Portal - BK 1

by Imogen Rose

  It was still dark, still raining heavily. I looked at the dashboard clock, 3 AM.

  “Arizona, can you wake Ella?” Mom asked.

  I tried to take a peek through the window to see where we were, but they were fogging up now that Mom had turned off the engine. I could barely see, but one thing was for sure, this is not home – not mine anyway.

  This didn’t look the least bit familiar. I tried to clear my mind to figure out where we were. I so wanted to scream at Mom, but held my breath until the feeling passed. All I could see were dark, looming trees through the torrents of raindrops. I could vaguely make out the dark shape of what looked like a building; it was too hazy to make anything much out.

  “Get your wellies from the back and put them on. It’s muddy out there,” Mom instructed in her usual direct, no-nonsense way. I was slightly annoyed at her use of the word wellies and wanted to shout rain boots, not wellies, we’re in the U.S. now! However, looking around I sort of wondered. I looked around for the wellies…. no rain boots! I couldn’t see a thing, so I switched the lights on. This was definitely not the H3; it looked more like an H2. Mom must have changed cars.

  I turned around and got up to have a look in the back. It was full of junk, mainly ice hockey gear, but I managed to scramble around and found some boots. One of my nails broke as I dislodged the boots from under a box, I instinctively went to put my finger in my mouth. I stopped as I noticed my pink-tipped nails. I was horrified. What had they done to me? I was going to kill Ella. Spritzing me with cologne while I was asleep was one thing, but sticking fake nails to me…well that was a flayable offense!

  “Ella, wake up!” I yelled, irritated.

  She stirred, and stretched as she yawned. She looked at me through sleepy eyes and muttered, “What’s up?” Then she looked at Gertrude and smiled, “Hello, doggie!”

  Gertrude wagged her tail and then settled back to sleep.

  “Put on your rain boots, Ella,” I said impatiently as I handed a pink pair over to her.

  “Thanks,” she muttered as she took them and clumsily put them on, stretched and closed her eyes again.

  “Mom, where are we?” I asked annoyed.

  “Home, silly!” she said, as she spoke into her cell phone.

  Home? It didn’t make any sense. This was not my home. I held my breath again.

  Mom turned off her cell and looked over at us. She looked different. The lighter hair made her look younger.

  “Wait for Dad to come out to the car, he’ll bring some umbrellas,” she said.

  Phew! Dad was here. Everything was going to be ok after all. There would be a simple explanation.

  There was a sharp knock on Mom’s window. She opened the door. I was expecting Dad but was shocked. It was a man I didn’t recognize. He had dark hair and blue eyes that gleamed as he kissed Mom right on her mouth. Disgusting. He scooped her up in his arms with a laugh as she ruffled his hair. Ella shouted a delighted, “Dad!” as she tried, unsuccessfully, to scramble to the front seat. Gertrude was wagging her tail furiously, but thankfully showed restraint and stayed by my side.

  “Hi, girls!” The stranger said with a smile. “Let me carry your mom in and I’ll be back for you guys in a jiffy!”

  They disappeared. I felt a sense of panic. Where was my cell phone? I felt for it in my hoodie pocket where I usually keep it, but couldn’t find it. I felt around for it on the floor, with no luck. This was getting scary. I looked over at Ella. She didn’t look the least bit concerned as she traced stars on the fogged up window and tried to look outside. There was a second knock on Ella’s window before her door opened and the man appeared again.

  “Dad, look at the doggie!” Ella said excitedly.

  Dad? This was the second time she had called him that; I thought I’d misheard her before. Had she lost her mind? It was late and dark, but this man looked nothing like Dad. This man was over six feet tall, dark hair, striking blue eyes. Our dad is a balding blond with brown eyes and a beer gut (not from beer, but from those enormous New Jersey breakfasts). I felt a sense of panic wash over me again and could hardly breathe.

  This had to be a dream! Silly me! A post SAT nightmare… what else could it be? I would just have to dream it out.

  However, I found my mouth saying, “Stay, Ella. Don’t go anywhere with this man!”

  “You silly!” she said, as she clambered into his arms.

  “Come on, Arizona, it’s wet and muddy. Can you carry the dog in?” he asked looking at me, clearly puzzled, as he picked Ella up.

  I looked over at Gertrude. She was wagging her tail at the man, but then she wags her tail at anyone. Ok, so I was dreaming. One of those dreams where you think you're awake, but you're actually still fast asleep. I hate those kinds of dreams!

  I lifted Gertrude into my arms and followed Ella and the stranger through the muddy darkness. My feet sank into the ground with each step, it was heavy going. This mud was no match for the rain boots. My feet were soaked by the time we got to the building I had spied through the trees. I could still not tell much about the outside of it through the rain. I just tried to make it to the front door as quickly as I could, shielding Gertrude inside my hoodie.

  Mom was standing by the door with an armful of towels. She threw some around Ella, and then proceeded to pat me dry… yikes… too much physical contact.

  “Go to your rooms, shower and get into your pajamas. Then come down for hot chocolate,” she said, turning to remove Ella’s rainboots.

  “You can both sleep in tomorrow,” added the stranger.

  I had no idea what to do or what to say. I wanted to scream and shout, but that would only land me in the psych unit so I clenched my mouth shut, held my breath and went with the flow, as usual. This dream had to end soon; it was boring.

  I looked around. We were standing in a ginormous hallway, dominated by a double stairway to another floor. There were five archways from the hallway leading to… somewhere. I had a room here? If so, I had no idea where to go. As dream/nightmare houses went, this was not too shabby. I followed Ella up the stairs. Gertrude ran past us and disappeared. There were a number of doors at the top of the stairs. I hung back to see where Ella would go. She went straight through the first door on the left and shut it behind her. The door had a pink sign on it that read Ella’s Room. Very handy, hopefully mine would have a nameplate as well.

  Arizona’s Room

  Perfect! Well, almost. The sign was in pink, my least favorite color. This is where I hoped that I was in a dream rather than nightmare. I was sort of hoping that my room would not turn out to be a cave full of tarantulas. I pushed the door slowly and went inside. Everything looked normal. No giant insects, monsters or murderous beasts. It was, in fact, almost exactly like my room at home in Princeton, which I guess would be weird if this was not a dream. There was my bed, some hockey posters, my Edward Cullen poster (hey, maybe this will turn into a romantic vampire nightmare!) and my electric guitar. On closer inspection, there were some differences from my real room. My New Jersey Devils bedspread was not on my bed. Instead, there was a pink monstrosity with the word CHEER written on it!

  My eyes focused in on a big blank screen on the wall opposite the bed, a flat screen TV. Cool! I noticed two doors on one wall. Could these be the nightmare doors that had monsters on the other side? I slowly walked over to the first door, opened it and peered inside. It was pitch black. I felt around for a light hoping not to lose my arm to a beast. I found the knob and turned it.

  What a pleasant surprise. My own bathroom! Hey, I’m beginning to love this dream! It was small but had a shower, sink and toilet. Excellent, it was all clean and tidy; I would soon change that. I opened the cabinet under the sink and found sets of towels and extra toothpaste.

  I walked over to the second door with more confidence and opened it. I was floored. Now I knew I was in a dream–a walk in closet. It was huge, at least three times the size of the bathroom. All the clothes were neatly hung; there were drawers and even shoe
stands. But I didn’t recognize the clothes. I would have to inspect them later. First a shower, I stank.

  I took off my muddy jeans and hoodie, threw them into the laundry basket and stepped into the hot spray of water. It felt so good, soothing my aching back. That ride must have been long, my muscles hurt. I shampooed and conditioned my hair and wrapped myself in the large, pink (I am not a pink girl!) towel that hung on the railing outside the cubicle before I stepped back into my room. I dried myself, located a comb on a very prissy-looking dressing table and sat down on the bed to untangle my hair.

  I absentmindedly relived my last hockey goal, my very favorite pastime. It had been my finest moment on ice this season. I had broken loose and jammed the puck right through the goalie’s legs. I could still feel the amazement of both my teammates and the opponents – sweet!

  As I idly glanced into the mirror at the far end of the room, I was jolted back into the present. Who was that staring back at me? I slowly walked over to the mirror and gazed into it. My hand wandered up to my hair, I pulled it. Ouch! It was attached to my head, but it couldn’t be mine! It was BLONDE…platinum blonde! I looked ridiculous. Straight, blonde hair. I looked like an awful Barbie doll. I pulled at it again, harder this time, willing myself to waken. It just hurt more as I pulled off a clump. I stared at it in my palm, feeling the strands with my fingers unbelievingly. I felt a sense of dread and lost control. I screamed.

  “MOM!”

  I ran out of my room, still wrapped in my towel and stumbled down the stairs, nearly tripping. Halfway down, I stopped. I held my breath.

  This was a dream, it had to be. Stop with the hysterics and get hold of yourself, I told myself sternly. In the grand scheme of nightmares, blonde hair did not really qualify. I sat down, put my chin on my knees and felt my eyes getting heavy again. I went back to my room and looked in the mirror at blonde Barbie and laughed, possibly slightly hysterically, but hey…it was blonde!

  When I heard Gertrude jump into bed, I turned around. Bed was the best place for dreams, so I climbed in beside her and buried my face into the familiar smelling pillow. Gertrude made herself comfortable nuzzling up against my legs and fell asleep. I listened to her comforting snores until my mind blanked.

  I woke to the sound of more rain clattering against the bedroom window. I was happy to be awake, the dream/nightmare now behind me. It had felt so real. I had sort of enjoyed having my own walk-in closet and en suite bathroom. However, I was glad to be awake again and back to reality.

  The SAT’s must have really tired me out, especially since I didn’t sleep much the night before. I was mad that I had slept right though my movie date with the girls. I better give them a call and apologize. Today was going to be busy – hockey practice in the afternoon followed by a birthday party. It was Darren’s birthday; he’s one of my teammates. I don’t like him much, but decided that I had to go anyway. I just would go, hand him his present and then hang out with Will and Justin. I had actually totally forgotten to pick up an iTunes card for him, better do that soon. I guess it was time to get up.

  I sat up and turned to put my feet on the floor but immediately pulled them back on the bed in horror. The floor was cold and hard! It didn’t feel like my blue-carpeted bedroom floor, which is always warm. I looked down and saw a stone floor. This was not my room.

  I sighed, back to this old nightmare again? Surely I couldn’t possibly still be dreaming unless I had been in a nasty accident and was in some kind of coma. This looked too real, felt too real. I looked around. At least things were consistent. I was in the same room as last night. I slid my feet into the flip flops conveniently waiting by the bed and hurried into the bathroom where I splashed cold water on my face hoping that would force reality back into my life. No such luck.

  When I looked up into the mirror, Barbie stared back at me. I struggled to remain calm. I tried holding my breath, unsuccessfully, and instead gave in to full blown panic. I screamed at the top of my lungs and collapsed on to the floor in a bundle.

  Ella came rushing into my room with her mouth opening wide as she saw me on the floor and just as quickly, she turned around and vanished. She returned back with Mom who ran over and tried putting her arms around me.

  I struggled out of her grip and yelled hysterically, “I hate you, leave me alone!” I could tell she was shocked but she let go.

  “Ollie, what’s going on?”

  It was a male voice, no doubt the stranger from yesterday.

  “I’m not sure, Rupert. Arizona seems very upset about something,” said Mom with an edge to her voice.

  Rupert came over and sat down beside me on the floor. “Arizona, whatever it is, we’ll sort it out. You do need to tell us what’s going on though so we can help you.”

  I struggled to calm down. A thousand questions were thrashing around in my head; just one came flying out my mouth.

  “Why is my hair blonde?”

  There was a dead silence in the room as everyone absorbed my words. They’d clearly not expected this particular one. I could hear muffled giggling noises coming from my annoying sister. I wanted to turn around and hit her. Mom took hold of Ella’s hand and gave her the look. It just made Ella giggle more and she turned and fled from the room, exploding into laughter right outside the door. Mom sighed and tried to remain seriously concerned, I could see that she was as bemused as Ella.

  “Arizona, you’ve had it blonde for at least five years now. What’s the matter? Do you want to change the color back? It’s really no big deal.”

  It was totally clear that I was making no sense whatsoever to the people around me. I needed to be more careful or they would think I was completely mad. I really couldn’t risk being sent off to a psych unit. So, I clenched my teeth to stop them from talking, stood up and walked over to my bed.

  “I guess I’m just tired and I do have a headache. Can you leave me alone for a bit?”

  Rupert and Mom nodded as they left my room. Mom turned around to remind me to come down for breakfast.

  I sat down on the bed and stared at the wall, the wall with the flat screen TV. I wasn’t sure what to make of all this. Mom is my mom, same bossy person. Ella is still annoying and Gertrude does not seem to be the least bit worried.

  Where did this Rupert come from? Could he be Mom’s new boyfriend? Gross! And where was Dad? I would do what I always did in difficult situations, what my Dad always did – nothing. I would wait this out, whatever it was.

  I lay down, looking up at the ceiling until the smell of maple-covered bacon seeped into the room sending Gertrude into a frenzy. She darted over to my closed bedroom door, whining to be let out. The bacon smell was followed by a whiff of cinnamon. I opened the door and Gertrude shot out and scrambled down the stairs.

  The mouthwatering aroma was strong, my stomach grumbled. I decided that I was perfectly capable of doing nothing and eating at the same time. I quickly grabbed my dirty jeans and hoodie from the laundry basket, put them on and went to get Ella from her bedroom.

  Ella looked at me in disgust. “Arizona, those clothes smell.”

  I ignored her, grabbed her arm and led her down the stairs.

  As we walked down, I noticed large pieces of framed artwork, Mom’s digital art. The giant hallway from last night came into view. It was covered in framed black-and-white photos. I’d need to take a closer look later. I followed Ella into the kitchen and into a scene out of the Brady Bunch – perfect domestic bliss. There were Mom and Dad preparing breakfast together.

  There was another person in the kitchen. She was standing by the refrigerator with her back to me. She turned as she closed the refrigerator door. I did a double take. It couldn’t be, but it was–Grandma! I was overcome with emotion again, so unlike me. Tears started streaming down my face. I brushed them away hastily before anyone would notice. My grandma had passed away a few years ago, how could this be? Whatever the explanation was, this was the best ever. I rushed over and hugged her.

  “Are you ok, Arizona?�
�� Grandma whispered as she wiped the escaped tears drops off my cheeks.

  “I think you must be coming down with something, Arizona. You seem overly emotional today,” offered Mom unhelpfully.

  “Sit down, kids and help yourselves,” said Rupert.

  I sat down between Ella and Grandma and found myself helping Ella select items to put on her plate – bacon, eggs and pancakes. This was extremely unlike me. Maybe I was coming down with something. My hand then decided to pat Ella’s head. I didn’t seem to have control of my emotions or body parts by the look of things.

  There was nothing wrong with my appetite though. I helped myself to bacon, cinnamon rolls and hot chocolate and ate without a sound. Gertrude, who had finished her own bowl of bacon, sat by my feet staring at me, hoping for stray bits to hit the floor. Mom and Rupert joined us at the table and proceeded to chatter endlessly about mundane stuff. Rupert had his arm laid comfortably over the back of Mom’s chair. They seemed very close. I had never seen her like this with Dad. It made me angry but I ignored it by concentrating my attentions on Grandma.

  Most of all, I just liked listening to my grandma’s voice. I had really missed her wicked sense of humor. She had apparently just returned from London where she’d been vacationing for a few weeks so she recounted tales from her vacation, the wonderful shopping and sights. I recognized places and names she mentioned–Wimbledon, Harrods, Harriet, Mortimer, Paddington… all very familiar. I gathered that she lived nearby and that we were to go over to her house for lunch next week. I was so happy to see her; I reached for her shoulders and squeezed them.

  Once breakfast was over, I excused myself and went back to my room. I needed time to think. Closing the bedroom door behind me, I looked for my most important gadget, my cell phone. I had to talk to my dad and my friends.

  There was an orange leather bag sitting on the couch next to the prissy dressing table. I picked it up and unzipped it. Hermès, not surprisingly, as my mother is a fan and is always trying to get me hooked on the brand. I found a wallet (Hermès again), credit cards, some cash and a driver’s license. I looked at it closely. It was a California license with my photograph (the Barbie version). I looked for my name, but found the name Arizona Darley instead. Who’s Arizona Darley? This was really strange.