In two days, Priya had packed up their bag. It wasn't much, just the necessary things to carry out her duties as priestess and an extra set of clothes for each of them. But she'd had to bless every item of hers for travel, like she did before going to Will's world. What was surprising, though, was how she was dressed. She was wearing the white embroidered dress that she wore for important events and every piece of jewelry she owned. She forced Will into the formal clothing he wore for the full moon celebration and then they were completely ready to go.
But before they left, they had one more thing to do. It was midsummer's day, which meant they had to make a very important visit. They went to Will's world and visited Mary and Elaine to tell the news ("It's like a pilgrimage?" Mary asked, and Will confirmed. "Just come back soon!" Elaine insisted with a smile. "I want to celebrate your birthday with you!"). Then they trekked through the Botanic Garden in their otherworldly clothing, ignoring the looks they got, and sat on their bench. Will sat first, just where Lyra had told him to, and put a hand down where she would be sitting. Priya sat on the opposite side, and there they were: all three of them, together, even if Lyra had no idea that Priya even existed.
Penelope was also enjoying a hot summer day. She was fairly certain that the day before had been her birthday (it was so hard to keep track), but it had been raining, so she decided to celebrate today.
Well, celebrate was a relative world. For a kid with a mom and dad, that might mean having cake and a party with their friends. For Penelope, that meant finding every quarter she could and wearing the most comfortable clothes she had and buying some candy.
The most comfortable clothes she had were stored in the little wooden box that she kept all of the important things in. It was lightweight and could be carried easily if she needed to sprint. Inside was the swiss army knife, a ten dollar bill, a tiny box of matches, and, of course, the clothes. They were made of such little fabric that they could fit in the small box with no problem. The material was a very thin cotton that was a bit translucent, but no-one cared, Penelope especially. She just wanted to let herself air out in the summer. The shirt was white and the shorts were dark green. She had dyed them the year before to combat the see-through fabric with a jar of tye-dye powder she'd gotten from a little kid in exchange for a king-size candy bar. She would've dyed the shirt, too, but all green would have clashed more than all white.
After she'd dressed, she grabbed the little burlap bag she kept her quarters in and headed out for the gas station. It was a sad place on the outside, all dusty and run-down looking with a broken sign that no longer lit up at night. There was a single gas pump and a place to fill flat tires. But no matter how bad it looked, Penelope would never dare shoplift from here. She'd rather be patted down than give the owner any reason to think she was stealing - he owned a shotgun and she had seen him use it. But he also carried the best candy, so she would pay the price - literally.
There were four aisles in this store. All the way to the left was the freezer aisle with the soda and ice cream and freezer pizzas. All the way on the right was the counter. From left to right were: salty snacks, sweet snacks, healthy snacks, and candy. Candy, of course, was her first instinct, but she had at least five dollars in her bag so what the heck? Why not see if there was anything else good.
Freezer aisle was a no-no. A can of soda was not worth the two dollars fifty cents when she could steal it from the convenience store down the road. And she had a whole bag of potato chips back with her stuff. Healthy snacks - never. Which left sweet snacks.
Sweet snacks were like those Little Debbie cakes. Except Penelope knew they were better because she had heard over and over again from the owner that she should stop buying candy and instead buy something that his wife had made 'cuz those sweets were like heaven on earth. She would treat herself to heaven on earth, just for her birthday. She stepped into the aisle and admired the cardboard boxes of frosted cakes of all flavors. They were miniature like the ones she got at the supermarket, but these were handmade, high quality, with designs on them: flowers and hearts and crazy patterns that made Penelope laugh just looking at them.
But one box in particular caught her eye. It had eight cakes, four chocolate and four vanilla, and each with an intricate and colorful frosting pattern. They looked like the fancy rugs that were stacked up in one of the warehouses she frequented. And the whole box was only three dollars! Mr. Shotgun's wife was generous!
Penelope sat down on the cold linoleum floor and counted her quarters. Twenty-three in total, and, divided by four… she had five dollars and seventy-five cents. Still two point seven five dollars left for candy. She jumped up with her fist in the air, and-
Uh-oh. It happened.
A small slit in the air, growing larger by the second, until it was a gash in the fabric of the universe. A window to another world.
She spun around, making sure no one had seen, before pinching the window closed with her index finger and thumb. That happened sometimes. She'd get excited or nervous or angry and it would just open. She could do it on purpose if she wanted to, but that was harder. Mostly, it was an accident, one that she was quick to cover up. If anyone noticed- she shivered just to think of it.
She grabbed a pack of sour strips from the candy aisle and headed to the counter, setting the stuff down.
"Four dollars twenty-five cents," the owner said, but she was already handing over seventeen quarters, which he put in his jar. He looked her up and down. She was nervous for a second that he had seen something, that he was about to ask-
"You made a good choice with the cakes," he looked genuinely pleased.
"Thanks, sir," she said, swallowing a sigh of relief. "I decided to indulge in some heaven on earth on my birthday."
He smiled at her before reaching under the counter and taking out a chocolate-covered pretzel rod. "Happy Birthday, kid. You're my best customer." She smiled back.
She left feeling lighthearted, and swiped a popsicle, a pepsi, and a pack of twizzlers from the convenience store before leaning against an apartment building and basking in the sun.
Somehow, people could always tell that she was homeless.
Even when she was wearing her nice clothes and looking like the happiest kid on earth, they always seemed to figure it out. Maybe her shirt really was dirty and she just didn't notice. Maybe she smelled weird. Maybe it was her burlap bag or the way that she was sitting or the fact that she was sitting on the sidewalk at all, but people always seemed to be able to tell.
That day, the first one who noticed was a kid about her age who threw her some loose change and said "so you don't have to look for pennies on the ground" before sniggering and walking away.
And it was all dimes and nickels, no quarters. Curse him.
The second was a guy with a little kid who gave her his pizza. It was still hot and she smiled a genuinely grateful smile, because she rarely got hot pizza.
The third was a mother who asked "where are your parents?" and when Penelope didn't have an answer, she sighed and shook her head and pulled her child away as quickly as possible without running.
The fourth was a man who took one glance at her and muttered "they ought to make that illegal," which was insulting no matter what he was talking about.
The fifth was a woman in a large, fancy hat who just tutted at her and walked away with her nose turned up. You have a mole on your chin, Penelope thought, just to spite the lady.
(She did have a mole on her chin, though, that was quite noticeable)
The sixth was a kid who crossed the street as soon as he noticed her.
The seventh was a man who said "here's some change" and threw some quarters. At least they were quarters.
Time after time, people looked at her. Pitied her. Jeered. Ran away. But she didn't want to get up. She wanted to sit where she was and just be another person. Not homeless.
So you don't have to look for pennies on the ground.
Where are your parents?
They ought to make that illegal.
Tsk-tsk
Here's some change.
Why couldn't she just be another person? Just a kid enjoying a hot summer day, drinking a Pepsi and eating twizzlers…
They ought to make that illegal.
Where are your parents?
...flipping a coin in her hand, over and over again, just a normal kid…
So you don't have to look for pennies on the ground.
Here's some change.
...There had to be somewhere where she could just be normal, just another person, not the homeless kid hanging out on the corner…
Where are your parents?
Tsk-tsk
Here's some change
...maybe in another city, another town, another place…
So you don't have to look for pennies on the ground.
They ought to make that illegal.
...maybe…
Here's some change.
Where are your parents?
...In another world…
So you don't have to look for pennies on the ground.
Tsk-tsk
Another world! That was it! She jumped on to her feet and grabbed all her stuff before sprinting to the warehouse. She would escape, escape to another world, where she would never again be ridiculed…
When the sun started to set, Priya took Will's hand. If they wanted to get a boat tomorrow, they'd have to go back now. They wiped their eyes and Priya kissed the bench as a blessing before they headed back to Priya's world.
They spent thirty silvers on a large carriage because they still hadn't done their thanks and Priya needed space to lay out the prayer rug. The horses moved swiftly across the landscape and Priya had to apologize to Seleniah because she couldn't face West and she couldn't do the entire ritual because everything was moving. For example, they couldn't say thanks, because it was windy and it would be dangerous to light the candle while the carriage was moving so fast. But they could still look at the moon and ask for forgiveness and hope that the goddess was forgiving. The moon was always there, even if you never took the time to notice it, as Priya had pointed out time after time.
"I think that this is the first time since I pledged myself," she whispered to Will, "that I haven't finished the ritual."
"Are you worried?" he asked.
"Of course!" she exclaimed. "I love my goddess and don't want to lose her trust! Being her priestess is, well, it's…"
Will understood, even if she couldn't say it in words. Being Seleniah's priestess was her purpose in life. It was what kept her going when everything felt hopeless.
Sometimes, when she could make herself feel better with just a prayer or a song, he wished that he had something like that. A purpose, and not just building the Republic of Heaven, because that rarely made him feel good (it was stressful to deal with people).
But when it really mattered, he remembered that he did have something. He had Priya.
By the time they arrived in Liret, it was already past midnight, and Priya had fallen asleep to the rhythmic sound of the horses' footsteps. Will gently shook her awake and dragged her into a hotel bed. Here in Liret, they had solid doors to prevent flooding, which made Will more comfortable. They had a front door and there was a door to his room in their house, but otherwise Priya wouldn't let him block off air with wooden planks. Not in the place that she wanted to be most comfortable in.
But he doubted Priya was even awake enough to notice that there were doors at all. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
He was a little more awake, though. He felt very bad that they'd missed thanks. He might not be a priest (Seleniah only had priestesses), but he'd still dedicated his life to the goddess almost as much as Priya had. Priya's moon goddess was one of the first things he'd learned about this new world, and he'd clung to this knowledge. It was his lifeline. He spent his time trying to make up for all the years that he hadn't even known that Seleniah existed. He worshiped and prayed and was always looking for a new way to show his devotion. And sometimes, he knew that he had done a great service for the goddess by taking in her little priestess. He knew that she loved each and every one of her followers, and tried to be as good at showing he was a follower as Priya and the others.
He had no doubt that she would forgive Priya, who was pure of heart and had never done anything like this before. But more than once he'd forgotten. Forgotten thanks, forgotten wishes, forgotten that there was anything to forget except doing the dishes. Before this world, he'd never been religious. He'd found it hard to believe in anything after all he'd been through. But now… he could believe. Seleniah had answered his prayers before. Had made Priya happy when he was afraid that even she had forgotten how to be. Had given him a job when he wasn't sure how to make money in his new home. So he could believe.
The next morning, he wished for a miracle.
There was nowhere they could rent a rowboat in Liret, so they bought one. They'd probably sell it after this trip, but Will thought that if they'd bought it, they may as well make it theirs. So he bought some red paint and, with Priya's consent, painted Il Ricordo Dell'amore on the side.
"What does it mean?" she asked.
"The Remember Love," he said.
(Priya knew that he was fluent in Italian, and they'd even been to Italy once, over the summer. That was her favorite trip, because she loved the sound of the language and the taste of the food)
Il Ricordo Dell'amore was a good size for two people, with two benches in the middle and one at the front with storage underneath. There were poles on the sides so that a lightweight cover could be thrown over. They ate a good breakfast and then set off down the Lira.
A/N: I'm very excited for the next chapter... If you liked this one, please leave a review!
3 Ivy