A Kiss in Time (19 page)

Jack shakes his head. Dont think so.

Then theres her hair. This . . . He picks up a curl like my head is a wig on a stand. The
Little House on the Prairie look is completely passŽ. And theres something about her skin,
too.

What about my skin? I ask.

Its just . . . weird. Do you moisturize at all? Your skin looks like you havent done
anything for it in ten years.

Try three hundred.

Jack! The door opens, and Meryl rushes in. Excuse me. Is my brother here? I cringe to see her in this pristine setting. Tall and gangly, arms and legs flying
everywhere, metal teeth, hair askew, blemishes . . . blemishing. How cruel would this man
be to her if, indeed, he finds me ugly? She places her hands on nonexistent hips and says,
Come on. You forgot to feed the meter and theres a cop around the corner.

Jack fumbles in his pockets, coming up empty. We have to go. He starts for the door and,
relieved, I follow him.

Wait! The green-haired boy begins to run after us. And who is this? Hes gesturing at Meryl.

Jack laughs. My kid sister.

Shes breathtaking. So fresh! So . . . thin! This is the type we can use.

Use for what? Meryl scowls. As a model? Her? Jack says. Yes. Well, once she gets the
braces off and starts on Accutanealthough we can airbrush most of that out. But shes to die for. Look at that
chestlike a little boy!

Meryl looks down, hair falling into her face. Yeah, right.

And the tude is perfect.

Meryl laughs. No, thanks. And yet, I can tell she is smiling a bit beneath her scowl. Why
would she not be? This . . . person has just said that I, Princess Talia, gifted by the
fairies with flawless beauty, am not pretty while she is a vision of loveliness.

But she looks at Jack. Didnt you hear me? Theyre about to tow your car. And we leave.

We decide to take the stairs, for the elevator frightens me. Meryl is walking backward,
then forward down the stairs ahead of us. Could you believe him? That chest . . . like a
little boy! She breaks up laughing. Crazy.

I do not think so, I say as we reach the street and yet another enormously tall,
impossibly slender young womana model, no doubtsmirks at me. You are indeed quite lovely.

Meryl makes a face, but then it turns into a grin. Well, I know one thingJen and Gaby
would freak if they knew. Howd it go with you?

I shrug. I am too fat. Excuse me? Aw, theyre just crazy, Jack says. Standards of beauty change all the time. Most of the paintings I saw in Europe, the women were, like, obese.

I know which paintings hes thinking of, and I am indignant. I do not look like a
Botticelli!

Thats not what I meant. What did you mean? He starts to say something, then changes his
mind. I meant that youre beautiful, and that guy is crazy. Well find another agency.

I shake my head. I do not think so. Okay. Then well go to the beach. After we feed the
meter, Meryl says.

j We cross the street to the beach. It is hot and white and strewn with brown bodies wearing
very little clothing. How amazing that being tanned is considered attractive in these
times. In my day, only the field hands were tan!

Still, when we reach an empty spot and Jack peels off his shirt to worship the sun, I
cannot help but look at him. One thing is certain: He is beautiful.

I have been persuaded to wear shorts and a tank top, the better to be ogled by that young
man. Jack spreads out a towel, and I arrange myself prettily upon it and pretend to gaze
at the ocean. Meryl sits beside me, sketching the sky. I glance at Jack. He, too, is
working on something. I wish to ask him what it is, but I dare not intrude. I stare back
at the ocean. It is nothing like the seaside in Euphrasia, which I remember from seeing
Father off on journeys.

Father!

The ocean is tranquil and blue, and I am lulled into a trance watching its white-capped
waves lap at the shore. I could almost go to sleep. Sleep.

Suddenly, the scene before me swirls together with me inside it. The waves rise up and
touch the clouds, and from them steps Malvolia.

Ah, Princess. Her dark form casts a shadow over the sunny beach. Still unlucky in love?

I glance at Jack and am pleased to see that he is looking at me. At my legs, to be
specific. He admires me, does he not?

Malvolia reads my thoughts. Aye. A boy admiring a pretty girl. A rare thing to be certain. But lovetrue love is something else.

But I only need more time. I know I can make him love me.

You were to be awakened by true loves first kiss. That has not happened, and I believe it
is time for you to come with me.

No. She cannot take me now. Just a little longer.

Come with me. The waves leap. The clouds above them darken, and I see Malvolias hand,
reaching toward me, hear her voice, soothing. Come with me. It will be all right. You know
he does not love you.

It is true. I know Jack does not love me, will never love me.

Then what is there for you? What is there for you if he does not love you?

Nothing.

Yes, nothing. Nothing but a family who hates you, a kingdom ruined. Princess, what have
you to live for?

Nothing. Come with me. Malvolias hand reaches closer. I will come with you. I rise from
the towel and start toward her hand. Talia?

Another step. Talia! I look down. It is Jack, Jack calling for me. The waves,

the clouds, and Malvolia all disappear, as if sucked up by a whirlwind. Instead, there is Jack, half standing before me, a puzzled expression playing
upon his face.

Where are you going?

I look down. I have walked several steps toward the ocean. Malvolia is gone.

I thought I mightahput my feet in the water. Jack laughs. Take off your shoes first. He
kneels before me as if he is about to propose marriage.

But instead, he unties first one, then the other shoelace. I am reminded of a popular
story of my time, about a girl named Cendrillon, who went to a ball wearing slippers of
glass. But, of course, Jack would never know this story. It was told three hundred years
ago! Still, when Jacks hand brushes against my ankle, I shiver in the noonday sun.

He stands. Come on, then. He reaches out his hand and enfolds it in mine, then guides me
toward the sapphire water.

Could Jack love me? And can I make him love me before Malvolia spirits me away?

N
ow what? Talia says in the car on the way home from South Beach. If I am not beautiful
enough to be a model . . . Youre plenty beautiful, I say. You wouldnt want to be a model, anyway, Meryl
says.

Its dopey and vain. But I notice shes actually pushed her hair out of her face since that freaky Rafael told her she could be one. And shes been looking in the
rearview all the way home, too.

But what else can I do? Talia whines.

Um, you can speak four languages, Meryl says. You know all about art, and youre some kind
of expert in diplomacy.

But for a sixteen-year-old without a high school diploma, I say, its hard getting a job
doing those things. Talia stares out at the water a long time, saying nothing. When she does, she says, The
water here is so blue, like the sapphires in one of Grandmothers necklaces. I used to
sneak into Mothers chamber when I was small and try it on. I dreamed of growing up one day
to wear it myself. Now I never shall. She looks at me. Perhaps I should return to
Euphrasia.

To where? Meryl says. Home, Talia says. To . . . Belgium. Whyd you leave in the first
place? Talia exchanges a glance with me. It is a long story. I glance back to say, Dont
tell it. I broke a rule, Talia says, consolidating the long story into a single sentence. There were horrible consequences, and my father was terribly
disappointed in me. He said he wished I had never been born.

Harsh, Meryl says. What kind of rule was itlike a curfew or failing in school? Scratch
thatyoud never fail in school.

Not exactly, both Talia and I say together. Did you, like, sneak out at night with
someone? No, Talia says. I never sneaked. I was watched con-

stantly, for they were worried I would be pricked with a spindle. I give her a look, and
she says, I mean, that my purity would be compromised.

Did you wreck your parents car? Meryl says. Talia laughs. Definitely not that. Smoke pot?
Get drunk? No, I tell her. Stop asking.

But Meryl keeps on going, ignoring me. You didnt kill anyone, did you?

Of course not, Meryl! I say.

Because Jacks done all those thingsexcept killing someoneand my parents keep forgiving
him, anyway.

Is that true? Talia says.

Once, Jack and Travis got picked up by the police for egging cars on Eighty-second Avenue.
And one of the cars he egged was the president of Moms garden club.

Meryl, I say. We dont need to talk about So the doorbell rings at midnight, Meryl continues. Mom opens it in her robe, and theres
two cops standing there. They had a tip from a cashier at Publix that some teenage boys
were in there buying ten dozen eggs. The cashier didnt think they were making a soufflŽ
with them, so she called the cops.

Meryl, will you please shut You threw food at passing cars? Talia says. Just eggs, I say,
glaring at Meryl. Everyone does stuff like that. But a hundred and twenty eggs could feed ten fami-

lies or ward off starvation in the wintertime when food is scarce. Do you have any idea
how many hens it would take to lay ten dozen eggs?

Yeah, Jack, Meryl says, grinning. Do you know how many hens?

Talia keeps going. It seems dreadfully wasteful and thoughtless to throw themparticularly at another per- sons property.

Thats my brother, Jack, Mr. Wasteful and Thoughtless.

I didnt take them away from starving people, I tell Talia. I bought them. I never thought
about the eggs being food for someone before. How does Talia think of this stuff? Not one
other person I know would think about wasting the eggsnot even my parents. When you think
of it that way, it does sound sort of . . . Okay, it was stupid.

Very, Talia agrees.

Jacks always doing dumb stuff, Meryl says. And my parents always forgive him.

Forgive? I laugh. They dont even notice. They never notice anything I do.

They notice plenty, Meryl says. You dont have a bedroom next to theirs, so you didnt hear
them every night for a week, discussing whether to send you to a child psy- chologist or
military school.

Military school? The idea makes me shudder.

And every time Mom ran into Mrs. Owensthats the lady whose car Jack eggedshe asked Mom if
she was get- ting dear Jack the help he needs and deserves. Mom was totally humiliated.

I can imagine, Talia says. Poor lady.

It was a long time ago, I say. Cant we talk about the dumb stuff youve done? Why does she
have to embarrass me in front of Talia? I dont embarrass her in front of her friends. At least I wouldnt, if
she had friends.

I never got picked up by the cops.

Youre young. Theres still time. Besides, youre learn- ing from my mistakes.

Are you proud of being a bad example? Be quiet. But still its weird. I always thought my
parents didnt much care what I did, just wanted me out of their way. Could I have been so wrong about
that?

Parents always forgive you, Meryl says. Like some- times, you see parents on the news, and
their kid just got busted for murdering a 7-Eleven clerk, and theyre like, But my Bubbas a
good boy. Hed never hurt a fly. So Im sure your parents would forgive you for whatever you
did.

Talia looks out the window. Weve crossed the bridge, and now theres nothing interesting to
look at, just gray office buildings on both sides. I remember the beautiful castle and
scenery in Euphrasia. Finally, she says, Do you think so, Jack?

Im not sure. Talias father seemed like a real stickler, even for a king, and he did say
all that crummy stuff to her. But maybe Meryls right (there has to be a first time for
everything). Maybe hed forgive her, even for ruining their entire country. Theyre probably
worried sick about herespecially considering they dont have any phone or email or even a
radio. So its really like she disappeared into a black hole. But I dont want her to leave. Talia might have been a little annoying at first. Okay, she was completely impossible. But
I realize thats just because shes not like anyone Ive ever known before. No one I know
would think of the eggs as . . . well, eggs.

If she were gone, Id miss her.

And I guess Im feeling a little selfish when I say, I dont know. But we have six more
days, so maybe you should think a little more about it.

Talia nods. I suppose you are right.

I
am a coward. I am a cowardly coward, full of cowardice. Part of me knows that Meryl is
right, that I should contact my parents, go back home, that they are concerned about me.

But I am less certain than Meryl that my father will forgive me. Jacks mother seems like a
lovely person, and I am certain Jacks father is likewise so. But they are not roy- alty.
Neither did they call upon an entire nation to guard Jack from harm, only to have him
bring it upon himself by some thoughtless mistake. However many eggs Jack threw, he did
not bring ruination upon his family, much less his country.

I tell this to Jack as we eat french fries and pull weeds. We have gone, at my request, to
the park where Jack once planted the garden. It is a sad sight, full of thorns and none too very many flowers. But, with our help, it looks quite a bit better. I have even
touched dirt now! Jack is right. It does smell clean, like the air. After an hour, we
walked to the McDonalds nearby and got french fries. More french fries!

Who knows if Euphrasia is even a country anymore? I pull a large weed. And if it is not a
country, then my father cannot be king. He could never forgive me for that.

Maybe he could do something else, Jack says. Like, take a computer course. But he looks
unconvinced. He sticks a handful of french fries into his mouth. On the other side of the
park, children play a game. They are dressed in matching shirts and short pants of gold
and ruby and emerald and orange. The object of their game appears to be to kick a spotted
ball into a net while preventing the other team from so doing.