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Cover for me, Trav, huh? I m leaving her with the phone.
Don t let anyone call me. Okay? A pause. A few hours. . . .
Hey, can you call it once, so I can show her how it works?
He hands it back to me.
An instant later, the phone begins to jump about in
my hand, and another man s voice not Travis s begins
to shout from it. He sounds so angry.
Do it to me! Do it to me!
I cannot help it. The phone leaps from my hand, and I
begin to scream. Who is that? What is he saying?
Jack catches it. He speaks into it. Trav, you there? Yeah,
she s a little freaked around technology. Call back in a sec
and I ll put it on vibrate . . . yeah, I know.
I have the distinct impression these young men are
making jokes at my expense.
You need to lighten up, Jack says.
Lighten? Nothing is heavy.
It s an expression. It means chill . . . don t take every-
thing so seriously. Jack does something to the phone, then
hands it back to me. Okay. It s gonna move around. When
it does, don t throw it. Just open it up, say hello, and don t
throw it. Okay?
I nod.
What are you not going to do?
Throw it. I smile. He thinks me a simpleton. Perhaps
I am.
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The blessed thing commences vibrating and, once
again, I am seized with the urge to toss it aloft. I restrain
myself. What now?
Open it.
I do.
Now hold it to your ear and say yo.
I hold it to my ear. Yo?
Sup, Talia? Will you tell Jack he owes me big-time?
This I repeat to Jack, although I have no idea what it
means. He shrugs and checks his watch. We should go.
Say good-bye to Travis.
Good-bye.
Now, close it up.
Jack finds me a place in some trees. He buries my jew-
els under some leaves, in case of robbers. It must be very
dangerous in Jack s time, if a young princess cannot go out
safely in her gown and jewels. He leaves the telephone.
Don t answer if anyone else calls.
How shall I know?
Jack begins to explain some new, difficult concept that,
apparently, even a buffoon like Travis has mastered in Jack s
time. My eyes glaze over, as they do when Lady Brooke
reads to me from the Reverend Phelps s Sermons for Young
Ladies. Jack must see it, for he says, Forget it. No one s
going to call, anyway.
And then he leaves.
With no book or other form of entertainment, I while
the time away by listening to the calls of birds. When I
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was little, Father taught me to pick out the tune of a spar-
row, the morning song of a lark. I miss Father and Mother.
Still, as I watch the sun journey higher up on the horizon,
I appreciate that, for only the second time in my entire
life, I am alone, blessedly alone, with no one to tell me
what to do or what to wear, no one to have to be polite to.
Nothing.
But I do not wish to be alone, not entirely. Now that I
am finally alone, it feels . . . lonely.
Soon, the lark s song ceases. Hyperion continues his
journey across the sky, and I become aware of other
sounds, not merely birds, but a cacophony of something
like metal clanking together. It is like nothing I have ever
heard in Euphrasia. Suddenly, I realize I am afraid to
know what it is.
Never have I been afraid before. I miss home. I even
miss Lady Brooke.
I could return.
The castle is waking, noticing that I am not there. Soon,
they will send out search parties. There will be panic, accu-
sations made, rewards offered for the safe return of their
much-beloved princess. It is like something in a book.
And if I creep back through the bushes and am found,
scraped and battered after many hours absence, Father may
be too relieved to be angry. All will be forgiven.
And I shall spend the remainder of my days under the
constant supervision reserved for little children and the
feeble-minded.
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No. I can never go back, only forward. I must go to
Florida, to my destiny.
I stare at the horizon once again, and my vision blurs. I
have been up all night, rescuing Jack, fighting the brambles.
Perhaps it would not be a terrible idea to close my eyes a
spell. . . .
I am awakened by vibrations. At first, I jump, believ-
ing someone has found me. Then I remember. The
telephone. Do not throw it. I pick it up, open it. I see a
word. Amber. Amber? What is Amber? A jewel? I press
the button.
Hello?
Who is this? a female voice demands.
It is surely not Jack. What am I to do?
Hello? the voice repeats.
I recover myself. Yes?
Who is this?
Talia, I say, leaving out the princess part.
Where s Jack?
I do not know, exactly. He went to purchase clothing
for me, you see, and
He went to buy you clothes?
Yes.
What time is it there?
Has this angry young lady called Jack s telephone strictly
to ascertain the time? Have you no clock?
Listen. The voice is extremely loud, and I am forced
to hold the telephone away from my ear. I don t know
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who you are, or why you have Jack s phone, but he is my
boyfriend, and
Boyfriend? What is a boyfriend? Perhaps it is something
like a beau. Is he engaged to you, then? I hope not.
What? No. Of course not.
Oh, what a relief. He is my true love, and you do not
sound very nice.
What? Listen, you . . .
And then, strangely enough, she calls me a female dog.
She continues talking. She is vile and coarse. And then I
realize that Jack told me not to speak with anyone else, and
here I am, speaking.
I beg your pardon, what did you say your name was?
I didn t. It s Amber.
Amber, I cannot go on being insulted by you. Jack may
be trying to call.
Why would he do that?
We have run away together. I must go.
I close the phone as Jack taught me.
A moment later, it begins to vibrate again. This time,
however, I see the name Amber and know not to answer it.
I am quite proud of myself for having learned this.
It is close to noon now. I cannot go back to sleep, and
the sun is blazing. Why do we wear so many clothes?
Jack has not called.
Perhaps he has abandoned me to be eaten by wolves or
whatever is making that noise.
Perhaps I should leave.
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Perhaps I should go into the city and find a bus
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