I remember why I’m stuck here. Surprisingly, it’s not only Elizabeth’s fault. I can also blame the banana.
---
“Grace, where’re we going?” Ally asks me, jumping over every crack in the sidewalk.
“Elizabeth’s house,” I say, trying not to think about who’s house it is.
“Who-”
“My new neighbor. She’s annoying. You can probably play with her little sister.”
“Why’re we going to her house if she’s annoying?”
“Um, good question.”
“But-”
“Stop talking and I’ll let you ring the doorbell.” She nods, going along with it. This morning Rebecca told me to come over, even though she knew I was babysitting Alison. It’s a good thing her parents are flexible enough to let us walk to. . . her house. Ally runs up to a doorstep, so we must’ve arrived. The tall, azure-blue house with a wrap-around porch certainly put mine to shame. I could see lace curtains peeking out from behind windows, except for one, which had navy blue curtains. That must be David’s room. Ding-dong. A loud groan ensues, and the door is thrust open by David, remote control in hand. He takes one look at us, points to some stairs in the back of the house and walks away, grumbling about bad timing. A grand welcome.
“YOU'RE HERE!” Abby is the first to greet us, squealing with all her might. She squeezes us tightly, waiting for us to combust. “I got here first, and was all like, where are they? And now you’re HERE!”
“MMM” Ally says, twisting in Abby’s grip. It probably meant “help” or “SOS” or something. Either way, it worked, and I am now free.
“Hi, um, Abby? I’m Grace, and this is Ally. Where’s Rebecca..?” I needed to demand- er, ask her some very important questions. Now.
“She’s over there somewhere. Ally come look at this!” Abby is very energetic. Extremely. I walk over in the general direction she pointed. Only a table with watches laid out on it. What is with all these watches? The basement is fully decorated, and they only just moved in. I don’t know anybody who has a finished basement! Okay, I guess I do know somebody. . .
“You made it,” Rebecca calls from behind me. I have no idea where she came from, but the grin spreading wide across her face means something happened.
“Becca, where were you? How do you know Elizabeth? What is going on, and can I leave now?” The grin fades when I say this last part. She looks guilty, and that's when I notice the watch on her wrist. “What is with all these watches? Is it some kind of theme? Wait. What did you do when you, ahem, ‘messed around’ with them?”
“Grace- I, uh. . . It’s fun! Um, my mom knows her mom from college or something. Hey, Abby, come over here, ‘kay?” She shrugs her shoulders. “Elizabeth might be here soon. She went upstairs a while ago.” Rebecca grabs the watches off of the table. “But I’m telling you, this is the coolest thing ever!” I’m just standing here, watching. No pun intended. Is that a pun..? Elizabeth must’ve decided to show her face, ‘cuz there she is, walking down the stairs with a full bag of Doritos in her hand. “Grace, Elizabeth, Abby, and um, Alison, let me show you all a world-changing invention.” Rebecca holds up her wrist. “May I present. . . The first-ever Time Watch!” . . .She’s kidding, right?
“Um, ‘Becca, watches have already been invented.”
“You don’t get it. This is a Time Watch. It can do more than meets the eye!” I watch as Elizabeth eats a smaller chip whole, and passes the rest to Abby. I can’t help looking at the chips hungrily -I didn’t have lunch yet- but not obviously. No, stop. I need to focus. On Rebecca, not the Doritos.
“. . . We can’t change anything from the past, guys. Anything at all. So, with all of that in mind, where, or when should we go?” Uh-oh. I must’ve missed something, but was it important?
“Hey, let’s go to Egypt! I’ve always wanted to go there,” Elizabeth says, in between chips, “please?” What? Do the watches give us free plane tickets or something?
“Ooh! Can I have a watch, pwease?” Ally gives us those puppy-dog eyes. “For my very own?!” Becca says yes to both girls, and I try to figure out what they were talking about.
“Uh, Rebecca? I’m not, um sure-”
“Grace, chill. It’s not gonna hurt anybody,” she says, strapping a watch onto my wrist. “Well, as long as we look the part. And if the Egyptians think we’re trying to steal something. . . Hey, do you have any money?”
“What? Um, I have a dollar bill. . .” I hold a crumbled green wad. Poor George Washington.
“Thanks!” Taking it out of my hands, she opens a small door on the back of her watch, squeezes George in, and taps a few buttons. In about twenty seconds, the door pops open on it’s own, and some copper shapes fall out. Ancient Egyptian currency.
“Woah,” breathes Abby, who’d snuck up on us. “That’s cool.”
“It is, isn’t it? I figured the feature would come in handy. Here, let me set your watch for thirty seconds.” She set everyone’s watch to do something, making sure to make mine fifteen seconds, Elizabeth’s nine, and so on, until we were all set. Only two seconds left. Ally reaches for my hand. “Ready?” And that’s when the bubbles appear. As they swirled around us, my head started throbbing. No one else seems to notice them, and before I can ask anything else, the world turns white.
Ow, ow ow. My head is throbbing loudly enough to be a drum solo. I try to blink away the pain.Slowly, my vision returns, and I can make out a dirty gold color, and in place of a gray basement ceiling, is a vast blue sky. In the distance, tall buildings with pointed tops peek out of the horizon. Pyramids? What!? I turn full circle. There’s Ally, thank goodness, Elizabeth, I’m thanking nobody, Abby, and Rebecca. Ally runs over and gives me a bear hug so tight my head throbs harder. (OW)
“Best day ever,” she whispers, almost making up for the head throbbing. Then everybody but Alison and I leave to buy lunch. Why didn’t the Doritos time travel with us? Except when they come back with a basket piled high with food, I forget about nacho-cheese chips. The nuts, grapes, cooked fish and bread were delicious.
“This is so good,” Becca tells us between bites. Everybody licks their fingers in agreement. I look in the basket for seconds, but the only thing left was a yellow crescent.
“A . . . banana?” Bananas were tropical fruits, so how did it get here? Abby leans over and snatches it out of my hand, and begins to unpeel it. “Wait! It’s not-” but it was too late. Some kind of dust flew out of the fruit, and the last thing I remember as my eyes closed is my head hitting the sand.
