Cynthia had an attic.  Not just an ordinary attic.  Cynthia's attic was magic.

 

Cynthia and I came into the world just three months apart.  We grew up on the same quiet, sycamore-lined street, our friendship as close as our houses.  Fifty years earlier, our grandmothers were best friends.  However, we didn't realize the extent of their friendship until after our experience in Cynthia's attic.  This is the story of one of our great adventures...the way I remember it.

 

1864: The young woman paced. Be patient, Emeline. He will get the letter and he will find you. It must happen quickly. Forces beyond her control were working to keep her there…keep her from her one, true love. Sebastien. Please, hurry!

 

Footsteps approached. She grabbed the book and flew up the basement steps of the castle.

 

1964:

 

Chapter One:

 

She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah. She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah…

"An-neeee!" I reached Cynthia's bedroom moments after the Beatles record began blaring.

"This is just like the gramophone I saw at the circus, Gus, only you don't have to crank it! What's it called?" Her face was lit up like a Christmas tree.

Gramophone? She sounds like my grandmother. "It's called a record player, Annie, but, you're making too much noise! We can't let anyone know you're here. Not yet." I shut off the record.  Too late.

"Who are you?" Suzette, arms folded, foot tapping stood in the doorway.

"She's with me, Suzette." This was bad. The last person I wanted to see was Cynthia's cranky older sister. "Her family is just visiting and, uh…Cynthia and I said she could hang around with us since she doesn't know…anyone…" My voice cracked.

Fortunately, Suzette didn't care enough to stick around and ask more questions. "Whoever you are…no more noise! I'm trying to practice." She stormed out of the room. "Pests," she mumbled.

I slumped onto the bed, head in hands, knowing this was just a preview. How was I going to explain-away Annie's appearance? Or…disappearance. Now, where did she go?

"Wow, Gus! Look at all these clothes!" Annie flew from the closet, arms loaded with a pile of dresses.

Oh, no. Cynthia will have a fit when…if she gets back from 1914. "Please put those back, Annie. Cynthia never lets anyone touch her clothes." I had to get through to her. "One day I got soaked in a rainstorm. Would she let me borrow a shirt and a pair of shorts? Nooo. I had to sit by the heat vent until I dried!"

Annie looked unimpressed with my lecture, but I continued, anyway.

 "Cynthia could show up any minute and I, for one, don't want to hear her scream at the sight of wrinkles in her "precious wardrobe."  I knew my best friend wasn't going to show up "any minute" because Annie had to get back to Beau's farm, first.

I unfolded the note that had appeared in the trunk moments after Annie and I arrived in the attic.

 

Gus. Gabriella is sending the medallion. Keep Annie hidden until it gets there. I'll see you soon, if I don't get food poisoning from Grandma Sam's dumplings.

 Cynthia. 

 

"Oh, yeah. Keep Annie hidden. Sure. No problem," I muttered.

"What? Did you say something, Gus?"

"Yes. Please put…the…clothes…back."

If only Cynthia hadn't dropped our "ticket" home, the gold doubloon, at the same time we were transporting. I know Annie was trying to help by picking it up and handing it to me. But, that's how she ended up here, in 1964, in place of Cynthia. I glanced at the note again. Gabriella better get that medallion here, soon.

I made sure the clothes were returned to their proper sections—school, play, Sunday, and I'm-too-perfect-for-words—and turned my attention back to my other big problem…Annie. Hiding her was no longer an option after the confrontation with Suzette. She wouldn't miss an opportunity to complain to her mother.

"So, Gus, what do we do, now? Can we walk downtown? Or…oh, go to your house! I have it! Let's talk to Mama Clara. I can't wait to meet her after the stories I've heard." Annie jumped around the room like a pogo stick.

"Aren't you the least bit scared? What if you never get home?" I hated being impatient. After all, none of this was her fault. It was just a stupid accident.

Annie smiled with a sad, older-than-her-years look. "I've been in scarier places than this, Gus. I've been kidnapped by my uncle. Left alone on a bale of hay at the circus when I was a baby. Threatened, daily, by an evil clown. You're my friend. You won't let anything happen to me."

Oh, goody. No pressure! But, hearing Annie talk about the dangers she'd encountered in her ten years made me realize just how lucky I am.

"You're right, Annie. Guess you have been through scarier stuff than time travel. Hmmm…maybe talking to Mama Clara isn't such a bad idea. We can't stay here. Suzette will have our hides.

Fortunately, the rest of the house was dark, so we flew down the stairs and out the door before Annie could get into more mischief.

 

The welcoming light on Cynthia's grandmother's front porch raised my spirits. She'd know what to do. Especially since, on a previous trip to 1914, twelve-year-old Clara had become suspicious, and we'd had no choice but to reveal our secret.

With Cynthia, I was always welcome to drop in, but I heard my mom's voice saying, "It's rude, Gus, to walk into someone's home unannounced," so I knocked. "Mama Clara? It's Gus. Are you home?" I gave Annie one last warning. "Let me do all the talking."

Through the storm door window, I saw a slightly stooped figure shuffle through the kitchen toward the sun porch door. "Why didn't you come on in, Gus?" The white-haired, bathrobe-clad woman opened the door wide and searched the darkened sidewalk. "Where's Cynthia? I thought she'd be with you."

"Hi, Mama Clara! I'm Annie," she said, beaming from ear to ear. "Oh, I'm so happy to meet you. Cynthia and Gus have told me so much about you. Why, I feel like you're my grandmother, too!"

"An-neee." I pleaded for her to stop talking. "Uh, this is Annie." I laughed nervously.

Mama Clara chuckled. "Yes, I got that, Gus. Don't just stand there. Come in. I think I may have some sugar cookies if you're hungry."

"Oh, Gus is always hungry," Annie smirked.

Again. The look.

She lowered her eyes and stopped jabbering.

We followed Mama Clara into the kitchen and she pointed to a plate of cookies on the small dinette table. "Help yourselves."

"Annie? You okay?"

 My young friend was paralyzed, her eyes moving from one end of the kitchen to the other. "I…I've never seen anything like this."

I hadn't thought about it but, Cynthia and I had only traveled to the past. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to travel fifty years in the future. When Mama Clara opened the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of milk and poured two glasses, Annie's mouth dropped open.

"You can gawk all you want, but I'm having a cookie." Hard to believe, but I wasn't hungry. I stuffed a sugar cookie in my mouth out of habit, or maybe to calm my churning stomach.

Cynthia's grandmother sat in her rocker and picked up a half-knitted afghan. Annie recovered from her wonderment at the "modern" kitchen and devoured a couple of cookies and half her milk.

I took a deep breath. "Mama Clara. Annie is from the past. We met her at the same time we met you and Bess…you know, when you were kids."

Mama Clara stopped rocking. "Yes, I remember, Gus." The chair started rocking, noticeably faster, and Mama Clara resumed her knitting. "A half-century has not dulled my memory of that meeting."

Okay. So far-so good. "What you may not know is that we've been on another trip since we met you back then."

"Yeah!" Annie's eyes widened. "They were captured by pirates, and almost eaten by an alligator, and…

"Annie!" Great. Nothing like scaring Mama Clara half to death. Too late. The rocking and knitting stopped, her jaw tightened and her lips practically disappeared.

"It wasn't like that." I tried to laugh, but it came out like the Murphy's cat, Chrissie, hacking up a hairball. "There was a little incident with some pirates, and the alligator turned out to be real friendly." Mama Clara didn't move, so I continued. "We also met Cynthia's great-granddad and his family. That's where it happened." I shuffled from one foot to the other.

"Where what happened, Augusta Lee?" Mama Clara had recovered her voice.

Annie's eyes fell to her lap and she offered no more commentary. We both had the sense to know that when adults use your given name, they mean business.

"That's where Cynthia was left behind, and Annie accidentally took her place." I spilled the whole story…well, most of it…beginning with why Annie was here and Cynthia was on the 1914 farm of her great-grandparents. "Gabriella, you know…the fortuneteller we all met at the circus, is sending the magic medallion. As soon as we have it, Annie can travel back to the farm and Cynthia can get back home." I faked a smile, hoping it sounded as effortless as navigating the stepping-stones across the creek behind my grandmother's house.

"And just where and when will this medallion arrive?"

"It's supposed to be in the trunk, in Cynthia's attic. It wasn't there when we looked before coming to your house, but we could check again, except that Suzette practically threw us out the first time. She's already suspicious of Annie so I'm a little afraid to go back."

Mama Clara sighed. "I'll go with you and distract Suzette while you two search the trunk."

Maybe I won't have to do this alone.