Youth

"Hurry up!"

Jimmy ran ahead, splashing in the puddles of newly fallen rain. The fresh smell of earth rose up from the ground. I followed the six-year-old boy, walking along in high spirits. It was the last day of school and everyone relished the thought of summer vacation.

We were on the main street. Shops lined the muddy road, barely a foot away from the sidewalk. As I walked by, many shopkeepers waved, because in the small town of Abonville, everyone knew everyone else, no matter how distantly.

"Come on!" Jimmy called again, running back toward me. He was impatient to get home. Aunt Abigail had just come from New York, and Jimmy wanted to meet her.

"Hurry!" Jimmy called, running ahead again.

A few minutes later, I found myself standing in front of Aunt Abigail. Jimmy, suddenly shy, stood in the corner. Aunt Abigail took my chin in her bony hands and whispered, "You've grown, Karen. And Jimmy is unrecognizable."

The last time Aunt Abigail came, Jimmy was one. I was nine.

Aunt Abigail sighed. "Tell me," she said, "Have I changed much?"

"No," I said, "Of course not." That was a lie. She was now so wrinkled her cheeks sagged. Her eyes were no longer a lucid peridot, but a tired dusty teal. She leaned so heavily on her cane the hand holding it shook. No one in Abonville, not even Aunt Abigail, knew her age.

Jimmy stole away to his room. I turned away from Aunt Abigail. I would not let her see my tears. Where was that vivid, nurturing soul I used to know?

The next day I got up before anyone else and escaped to the awakening outdoors. I refused to see Aunt Abigail before I needed to. She had changed too much, and I wanted her old self back.

With my hands in my pockets, I slinked around the streets. The shops were still closed so there wasn't much to do. Subconsciously, my feet led me to the park.

The park was just a large patch of grass surrounded by abandoned buildings with a few swings, a slide, a sandbox, monkey bars, and a tall oak tree.

I climbed up the tree and sat on a branch. Swinging my legs back and forth, I surveyed what I could see of the town and thought about Aunt Abigail.

She was a nice lady. She laughed a lot and played with me when I was small. She sent Jimmy and me birthday presents every year. But her health was breaking down, and the unbearable truth couldn't be thwarted any longer: she was old, and she was dying.

She had seen me grow from an infant to a girl of fourteen. She had been there my whole life to share my triumphs and my failures, and though I only saw her every five years, she was dear to me. I couldn't let her go. I needed her. Tears came to my eyes unbidden and dropped down toward the grass below.

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves. I looked around at the rundown buildings nearby. I looked at the shops, now opening their doors, and at the high school that I went to. Suddenly, something caught my eye, and I looked toward the rundown buildings again.

Something was shimmering in that forgotten part of town. Something superficial.

Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I climbed down the tree and ran toward the place where I saw the shimmer. There I found a structure the size of a telephone booth. It seemed to be made of cardboard, but there was a door that looked like metal. Feeling slightly reckless, I pushed it open and stepped inside.

The cardboard structure was definitely an illusion. There before me was a room the size of an auditorium, but circular and with a dome roof. I turned around. Nothing marked that a door was there. Experimentally, I tried sticking my hand through the wall. It went. I walked to another part of the room and tried again. Success. Apparently, the walls were as much an illusion as the cardboard entrance. I looked around the room. The only object was a circular metal table right in the middle and nailed to the floor.

A man appeared, holding a notepad and a pen. He was wearing a lab coat and was obviously in the middle of a complex calculation because he was muttering about mathematical figures to himself and scribbling furiously on his notepad.

Suddenly, he looked up at me, surprised and silenced. Quickly, he turned around and walked back in the direction that he came. In a moment, he came with a woman who was also wearing a lab coat. The lady smiled and motioned for me to come. Feeling lost, I followed her as she walked away and found myself in another room, not as large, but just as empty. Two armchairs were the only things that occupied it.

The woman invited me to sit down, and took the other chair herself. The man had disappeared. The woman cleared her throat and spoke:

"We are the Time Travelers," she began, "We travel between the ages, smoothing out the glitches in history and easing international conflicts. We like to work in secrecy, so if you don't tell anyone about us, we will grant you a wish as long as it is within our power."

Without needing to think, I said, "Make Aunt Abigail young again." At the moment, it was my heart's deepest desire.

The woman thought for a while, and said, "We'll do that." She pushed a button, and I fainted. The chair I sat on was rigged.

I woke up at the place where I first saw the cardboard structure. The sun was still far in the east. The cardboard box was gone, but in its place I found an amethyst pendant. I stuffed it in my pocket. I never wore jewelry, but this pendant was meant to be a reminder of my agreement and it would serve as one.

Light hearted, I trotted home with a bounce in my step. Aunt Abigail was young again, and she would be with me for a while yet. The day was just starting, full of shouts of "Good morning!" from neighbor to neighbor. Best of all, it was the first day of summer vacation, promising fun, relaxation, and enjoyment.

"It's so good to be young," I thought. And it was perfectly true.