defiantly.
“Fine, we don’t need your powers, anyway. Now help me carry Pocky to the car.”
TEN
Wednesday, 11:29 P.M. , parking lot of Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia
“O n to the chocolate factory,” Era said as soon as we’d arrived at the car and leaned Pocky up against the passenger-side door.
“But Era, I don’t think the chocolate factory exists.” Era was still having trouble with the concept that lots of movies they showed on TV were make-believe. Or maybe she was just in denial about the chocolate factory. “Don’t you wanna go somewhere else? Like maybe out west?” I suggested. I mean, I could’ve just point-blank said, “Era—pick Denver,” but I didn’t. It wasn’t the time. We stood there, shivering in the parking lot.
“Hmmm, okay.” Era looked thoughtful. “I pick…I pick…here in Colonial Williamsburg—let’s just stay.”
“Hear ye, hear ye, I agree. Now let’s go help those poor people,” said Polly.
“No, no, no, Era, you can’t pick someplace we’ve already been—it’s part of the rules,” I said.
“What rules? I don’t remember any rules,” questioned Polly.
“Um, they’re Pocky’s Road Trip Rules, didn’t he tell you?” Hey, how was it going to hurt him, blaming him while he was asleep?
“Oh,” said Era sheepishly, looking at the sleeping Pocky. “Well, okay, but I dunno where.” She furiously began twirling her blond curls.
“Blech, hurl, ptoot!”
“What was that?” asked Era, twirling faster.
“A bird, I think,” I said, even though I didn’t. “It sounds like a bird regurgitating food for its little infant birds. Now, where to, sis?”
“Blech, hurl, ptoot!”
“That isn’t a bird, Thalia,” explained my sister Polly, her normally pale face paling more. “That’s some poor soul vomiting in the bushes. We should help!”
“How can you help? We may not be immune to a disease of the future. We can’t risk getting sick—who knows how it may endanger us,” and this last part I said in a whisper, “I mean, we’re not exactly human.”
“But…” Polly looked torn. She called out to the bushes, “Are you okay?” But nothing.
“What can you do for her, anyway? You can’t make her better, you won’t use magic. You’re smart for sure, but face it, Pol, you’re no doctor.”
“Maybe she’s right, Polly,” said Era rationally, finally. “There isn’t much we can do for these people. Maybe we should move on.”
“Now we’re talking. So, Era, how about heading out west, someplace like Kansas or Wyoming or…Colorado?”
“Well, I guess, I mean, where do you think, exactly?” said Era, looking way confused.
“Colora—”
“No! Don’t let Thalia pick; it’s not her turn,” said my nosy sister Polly. “You pick a place you want to go, not one that Thalia wants you to pick.”
“Now who is telling her where to go?” I said, and I could hear my voice—it sounded seriously snotty.
“I’m not telling her where to go! Era, I just want to remind you to make your own decisions. That’s all, Thalia.”
“You’re not the boss of us, Polly.”
“And you’re not the boss, either, Thalia. I simply can’t—”
“Enough!” Polly and I both fell silent. Amazingly, that angry, firm, booming voice was coming from my always sweet, always impressionable sister Era. “I know where I want to go. New York City. Now, let’s go.”
New York City? The only way we could get anyfarther from Denver was to hit the ocean and start swimming. I opened my mouth to speak, but Era shushed me with a wave of her hand.
“There’s this hotel. I saw it on Access Entertainment just the other day. Movie stars were staying there and going to this spa, which sounded a lot like the Beautorium back home. And they had water beds and huge golden swimming pools, and that’s where I want to go, to the Hotel Royale…in New York City.” And with that, she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Well, you know, they have, um, crime
“Fine, we don’t need your powers, anyway. Now help me carry Pocky to the car.”
TEN
Wednesday, 11:29 P.M. , parking lot of Colonial Williamsburg, Virginia
“O n to the chocolate factory,” Era said as soon as we’d arrived at the car and leaned Pocky up against the passenger-side door.
“But Era, I don’t think the chocolate factory exists.” Era was still having trouble with the concept that lots of movies they showed on TV were make-believe. Or maybe she was just in denial about the chocolate factory. “Don’t you wanna go somewhere else? Like maybe out west?” I suggested. I mean, I could’ve just point-blank said, “Era—pick Denver,” but I didn’t. It wasn’t the time. We stood there, shivering in the parking lot.
“Hmmm, okay.” Era looked thoughtful. “I pick…I pick…here in Colonial Williamsburg—let’s just stay.”
“Hear ye, hear ye, I agree. Now let’s go help those poor people,” said Polly.
“No, no, no, Era, you can’t pick someplace we’ve already been—it’s part of the rules,” I said.
“What rules? I don’t remember any rules,” questioned Polly.
“Um, they’re Pocky’s Road Trip Rules, didn’t he tell you?” Hey, how was it going to hurt him, blaming him while he was asleep?
“Oh,” said Era sheepishly, looking at the sleeping Pocky. “Well, okay, but I dunno where.” She furiously began twirling her blond curls.
“Blech, hurl, ptoot!”
“What was that?” asked Era, twirling faster.
“A bird, I think,” I said, even though I didn’t. “It sounds like a bird regurgitating food for its little infant birds. Now, where to, sis?”
“Blech, hurl, ptoot!”
“That isn’t a bird, Thalia,” explained my sister Polly, her normally pale face paling more. “That’s some poor soul vomiting in the bushes. We should help!”
“How can you help? We may not be immune to a disease of the future. We can’t risk getting sick—who knows how it may endanger us,” and this last part I said in a whisper, “I mean, we’re not exactly human.”
“But…” Polly looked torn. She called out to the bushes, “Are you okay?” But nothing.
“What can you do for her, anyway? You can’t make her better, you won’t use magic. You’re smart for sure, but face it, Pol, you’re no doctor.”
“Maybe she’s right, Polly,” said Era rationally, finally. “There isn’t much we can do for these people. Maybe we should move on.”
“Now we’re talking. So, Era, how about heading out west, someplace like Kansas or Wyoming or…Colorado?”
“Well, I guess, I mean, where do you think, exactly?” said Era, looking way confused.
“Colora—”
“No! Don’t let Thalia pick; it’s not her turn,” said my nosy sister Polly. “You pick a place you want to go, not one that Thalia wants you to pick.”
“Now who is telling her where to go?” I said, and I could hear my voice—it sounded seriously snotty.
“I’m not telling her where to go! Era, I just want to remind you to make your own decisions. That’s all, Thalia.”
“You’re not the boss of us, Polly.”
“And you’re not the boss, either, Thalia. I simply can’t—”
“Enough!” Polly and I both fell silent. Amazingly, that angry, firm, booming voice was coming from my always sweet, always impressionable sister Era. “I know where I want to go. New York City. Now, let’s go.”
New York City? The only way we could get anyfarther from Denver was to hit the ocean and start swimming. I opened my mouth to speak, but Era shushed me with a wave of her hand.
“There’s this hotel. I saw it on Access Entertainment just the other day. Movie stars were staying there and going to this spa, which sounded a lot like the Beautorium back home. And they had water beds and huge golden swimming pools, and that’s where I want to go, to the Hotel Royale…in New York City.” And with that, she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Well, you know, they have, um, crime
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