I trip for about the fifteenth time on the overgrown trees and bushes (and, once, a pig). “God, this is the darkest place I’ve ever been.”
“It is nighttime,” Talia points out unhelpfully.
“Yeah, but where I come from, we have lights at night.”
“We do, too. They are called stars. They are quite romantic.”
Like I’d want to get romantic with her. When I stopped to change out of that monkey suit they gave me, she spent the whole time whining about how it was improper for me to disrobe in her presence, even though I went in the bushes to change. And I’m back to carrying the jewelry box, because when she was carrying it, she slowed to a crawl. “No. Not stars, better than stars. Lights in the houses and outside on the streets.”
“Fire? We have had that for quite a while here as well. We Euphrasians are not as primitive as you might believe.”
At least they’ve discovered fire.
“Electricity,” I tell her. “See, there was this guy, Benjamin Franklin. He was a little bit after your time, maybe fifty years, and he was American. He discovered electricity one day when he was out flying a kite in the rain.”
She chuckles.
“What’s so funny?”
“It sounds a mite foolish to fly a kite in the rain.”
“He did it on purpose. He was trying to discover electricity.”
“If he had not yet discovered it, how did he know he would discover it by flying a kite in the rain? He must have gotten very wet, and he sounds very silly.”
This girl is totally annoying, and I don’t even really remember the whole story about Ben Franklin. We learned it in fourth grade. Still, I say, “He wasn’t silly. He discovered electricity, and a hundred years later, a guy named Edison—another American—invented the lightbulb. So now we have electricity, and if you were sneaking out of the castle in the dead of night, you’d at least have a—”
“Watch out!” Talia screams just as I bonk into something large and wooden. A tree? Yep. Roots. Bark. Really big trunk. It’s a tree. I just crashed into a tree.
I rub my forehead. “How’d you know that was there? Was it there in your time?”
“In my time, we can see ahead of us. I suppose we are used to darkness.” She laughs.
“It’s not funny.”
“Oh, I am sorry. In my time, a man running into a tree was considered the height of amusement, indeed.” She giggles. “But I suppose everything is better in your time.”
I rub my forehead again, to show that it still hurts and that I don’t appreciate her laughing. “Well, yeah. Let’s see…we have electricity, indoor plumbing, fast food, cars, airplanes, computers, movies, television, iPods. Yeah, I think it’s pretty much better.”
“You think so?” Her voice rises an octave. “Well…we have things in Euphrasia that are better than what you have now.”
“Like what? Chamber pots? Indentured servants? Bubonic plague? Name me one thing you had in your time that’s better than what we have.”
“Love!” she cries. “Respect for one another. In my time, people did not go around kissing other people they did not love and had no interest in marrying. In my time, a man who did such a thing would be considered a cad and thrown in the dungeon for his crime. In my time, ladies were respected!”
“If your time is so wonderful, you should go back there!”
“I cannot. You have ruined everything with your selfish, selfish lips!”
“I’m selfish? I’m not the one who touched the spindle.”
“You said that was not my fault!”
“That was before I knew you. I changed my mind after I saw what a self-centered brat you are! You probably did it on purpose, just to ruin things for everyone else!”
“Oh!” She stomps her foot.
“That’s right. Stomp your foot! Brat!”
“I shall never speak to you again!”
“Good! I’ll enjoy the quiet.”
“I shall…I shall go home!”
“Good! Go! That’s exactly what I want!”
She stops walking for a second, and I think she’ll turn around, that I’ll actually be rid of her. I keep walking. Maybe I should throw her jewelry box on the ground. If I don’t, she’ll probably accuse me of stealing it.
But a moment later, I hear her footsteps, running to catch up.
“Forget something?” I say.
“I cannot go home. You know I cannot.”
“Why not? They’ll get over it. You’re their little princess.”
“They will not ‘get over it’! All is ruined! I must go with you—distasteful though the prospect may be.” She starts walking.
I’m distasteful. I like that. I’m not the one who begged her to go with me. “I could just ditch you, you know? I don’t have to take you with me.”
She gasps. “A gentleman would.”
“A gentleman of your time, maybe. They sound like saps. In my time, we don’t think girls are fragile flowers. We think they should be responsible if they mess up—just like guys.”
“All right, then. You will take me with you because, if you do not, I shall scream. I shall run to the nearest house and cry to the people there—my subjects—and they will come out with pitchforks and torches. They will hold you until my father comes.”
She has a good point, I guess—even though she makes it like a brat. I look around, and I can see houses full of people—extremely well-rested people who will probably rush to defend their princess, since they don’t know what she’s really like.
And, the fact is, I shouldn’t have kissed her. I know it’s wrong to take advantage of girls who are passed out. If I hadn’t done it, I wouldn’t be in this mess. So, okay, I’ll take her across the border. That’s it, though. After that, she’s on her own.
So I say, “Okay. Come on. But take back the jewelry box. I don’t want anyone to think I stole it if they catch us together. And go faster.”
She starts to protest but then says, “Oh, all right.”
We keep walking. I wonder how far we are from the border or whatever that giant hedge is.
I’m about to ask Talia when she says, “Why did you kiss me?”
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know I’d wake you.”
“That is not what I meant. I meant why did you kiss me? I was supposed to be awakened by my true love’s kiss, and then we were supposed to marry.”
“I got that.”
“So if you did not love me, why did you kiss me? Someone else might have, if you hadn’t.”
I hear her implication, someone better. I shrug.
“What does that mean?”
I forgot she can see in the dark. “I don’t know. I just wanted to. In my time, we sometimes just kiss for fun.”
She doesn’t answer for a minute. Then we both say, “I like our way better.”
She reaches toward me to touch my forehead. Her hand is cool and soft. “Does it hurt very badly, where you hit the tree?”
I pull away. I don’t want her touching me, even though it feels good. “Ouch.”
I want to ask Talia why she kissed me back, if it was so horrible, but I’m not speaking to her. Besides, maybe someone will hear. Someone with a big dog. Or a dragon or something. So we trudge along, and the only sound I can hear is my feet hitting the dirt and the dirt hitting my feet, over and over with no light in sight.
After about a thousand more footsteps, we reach the hedge.