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ENTA’S WORKSHOP was in a separate building, similar to Edgar’s but larger and more modern. Still, there were several pieces of equipment that looked like they belonged to a time period from ages ago. I perched myself on a stool at one of the two lab tables while Edgar and Enta remained standing over a pile of glass bottles and brass instruments.
Several pairs of dark glasses hung on wall pegs. I wondered how many pairs of travel glasses were floating around out there.
Edgar handed Enta Valcas’ pair.
She flipped them to inspect the insides of the lenses. “Now I see. These are very well made for someone with your time period’s resources, Edgar.”
“Thank you.” He blushed.
“Here is where someone else appears to have adapted the lenses for a communication apparatus. The feature seems to be working properly, but isn’t done quite the way I would have. Edgar, can you hand me that basket of tools? I’ll need to disassemble this part here.”
I craned my neck, trying to see what Enta was talking about. The travel glasses had always looked like an ordinary pair of sunglasses to me. I couldn’t imagine what she would be disassembling or how she could tell there was any type of apparatus on them.
“All right, now,” Enta continued. “Edgar, would you mind trying on a pair of my travel glasses to see if you can contact me?”
Edgar did so and found that he could not see Enta through the glasses no matter how hard he tried.
“Success!” he rejoiced. “Now switch glasses with me, Enta.”
“I can still see you, Edgar. You can’t just rely on the glasses. Close me out with your mind.”
I watched closely, unsure whether this was something I also would be able to do.
“Brilliant, Enta! Let’s start over.”
Both inventors took off their glasses, replaced them and tried again. This time Edgar readily succeeded in blocking out Enta’s attempt to communicate with him.
“All right, enough work for now. I’m exhausted,” said Enta, handing me the pair of travel glasses she’d just fixed. “Let’s go back to the house and sit outside on the porch.”
I thanked Enta the entire way back to the house. She returned my thanks with a warm smile and a glass of lemonade. I sipped while rocking in a wooden chair. The sky was painted with the same pastel colors of what I’d thought was a sunset the day before. I drank in the peaceful calm, wondering how long Edgar and I would get to stay.
I looked up to see Enta standing over me with a pitcher of lemonade, ready to refill my glass.
“Oh dear,” she whispered. “This has been a busy week for visitors.”
Chills went up my spine at the word “visitors” as a lone, dark-clad figure upon a dun mustang quickly approached. The animal’s coat was golden blond. Its mane and points were of the blackest midnight. Valcas’ glasses and riding boots glistened against the backdrop of the strawberry landscape.
Blood pulsed through my temples. I’d been expecting the chase to begin for many weeks, but still couldn’t believe it was happening now, here in the most serene of places. Wishing I could spend more time saying good-bye, I thanked Enta and Edgar for their help in a low voice.
“We will speak with Valcas,” said Edgar. “Go quickly through the house. Exit through the rear and run around the house to the barn.” Edgar’s voice was calm, but his fingernails dug into the wooden arms of his rocking chair.
“We will stall Valcas for as long as we can,” added Enta. “Take the horse and buggy.”
I tore through the house, grabbing my backpack on my way out. Back outside again, I sucked in short gulps of air as I sprinted toward the barn. Lemonade, now mixed with stomach acid, kept crawling back up my throat. I choked it back down, resisting the urge to vomit.
Sweaty and out of breath, I reached the barn and looked around. A mess of straps and buckles hung off of the buggy. I pulled at one of the reins. It was chewed through.
“Come on, really?”
The black horse looked at me, chewing a mouthful of grass with bits of straw in it, showing me her yellowed teeth.
“Fine then. The carriage can stay here. But you’re coming with me.”
I found a stepladder in the barn and set it down next to the horse. Content with her chewing, she stayed still as I climbed on her back and put on the travel glasses. I kicked both legs into her muscular middle, bareback, the way I’d seen casual riders do so at the lake. The black horse whinnied and then jetted forward. I grabbed onto bits of mane, folds of skin, anything I could to not fall off.
I was headed for seventeenth-century Venice. Trying to hold on for my life would have been challenging enough without having to simultaneously search for an accurate image of Romaso.
I hoped Romaso would help me find Shirlyn. I’d read and reread Shirlyn’s diary with the purpose of committing it to memory. I wanted to visit her during the specific time period that she wrote about. But I had no idea what she looked like. She’d never written about that.
Without more details for the search, I worried that I wouldn’t be as fortunate in finding Shirlyn as I was with finding Edgar. As far as I knew, I’d only traveled to presently existing people, regardless of whether they lived in a past world. The idea of visiting someone’s past life frightened me, especially if there was a chance that they were still alive somewhere in the present. I was certain that Romaso, who lived in the 1600s, was already dead. I was not comfortable about the situation, but Shirlyn and her twentieth-century family had been able to visit him. I planned to use her descriptions of Romaso and his surroundings in my attempt to travel there.
If Romaso refused to help me, then I would offer the only thing I had as bargaining power, the opportunity to reunite him with Shirlyn. The diary and the travel glasses were the only proof I had. I hoped that they would be enough to convince Romaso to travel to Shirlyn with me. I also hoped he hadn’t already found another girlfriend.