I lay in bed, wondering what I should do first: cry or throw up. It seemed pointless to "wake up" since I'd been staring at my ceiling, sleepless, pretty much all night. Today was my first day of school in a new place. The first day of school in my whole life that my dad wouldn't be there to take me, holding my hand when I was little, waving goodbye when I got older. I felt intensely alone, waking up in this strange apartment, everything so foreign around me.
My eyelids felt like sandpaper. I rolled over in bed, hugging my pillow. Ever since my nightmare, I'd been hating falling asleep, Axelle insisted I keep the door to my room open, and on the one hand, I actually appreciated her being able to hear me if I cried out. On the other hand, I sorely missed my privacy and the implied safety of a locked door. Especially when Jules and Daedalus stayed over, which they did every once in a while.
I sleepwalked to the bathroom and got under the shower. In New Orleans, the cold water was never actually cold, like in Connecticut. Back home, the C on the faucet meant business. Here the C meant "tepid"-I never even bothered with hot water.
And another thing; back home, the first day of school always meant new school clothes, autumny clothes. School starts: autumns on the way. The forecast for today was a high of ninety-six, one hundred percent humidity. I wore a short skirt and a sleeveless top, both gray with pink athletic stripes. I guessed I would soon find out what was considered cool to wear here.
I spritzed my hair and bunched it up to make the layers stand out. I started crying. I put drops in my eyes and tried to put on mascara. I started crying again. I quit with the makeup and headed out to the kitchen. So now only throwing up was left.
In the main room, I found Axelle, Jules, and Daedalus sitting around the table, wearing the same clothes from last night. The ashtray was full of cigarettes. Empty soda cans and bottles of water circled the table. They had clearly been up all night, and I was amazed they hadn't been louder.
"Hey," I said unenthusiastically, and they looked up.
"You're up early," Axelle said, glancing at the antique clock on the mantel.
"School," I said, trying to eat a plain piece of bread.
Axelle let out a breath, giving Jules and Daedalus a meaningful look. I was so zany and unpredictable, wanting to go to school.
"You were serious about that," she muttered. Then, "What time will you be home?"
"School gets out at three," I said, chewing, struggling to swallow, "I guess around three thirty? I don't know how long the streetcar will take"
"Give her a cell phone," Daedalus told Axelle, and I stopped chewing in surprise.
She looked at him, her black eyes thoughtful. Then she stood, fished around in her huge black leather purse, and pulled out a cell phone. For a moment she stood looking at it, tracing her fingers over it as if, like, memorizing it, saying goodbye. To a cell phone. Jeez.
Finally she brought it over to me. I couldn't believe it.
"Let us know If you're going to be late.' she said.
O-kaaay. And you'll have cookies hot from the oven ready for me, right?
I had bought myself a backpack and stocked it with a few first-day supplies. I zipped the phone into a little pocket.
"Thais, come here," Jules said, and I walked over. Now what?
The three of them were hunched over all kinds of old maps and new maps and books and what looked like geographical surveys.
"Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Axelle asked. Though she'd been up all night, she didn't look beat. Her skin was clear, her eyes bright-even her makeup looked okay.
"Maps? Yeah-I've seen maps before." I had no idea what she meant.
"No, more-maps like this" she said, pulling one out. It looked like an olde-timey reproduction on fake parchment, the edges tattered. I expected to see a big black X somewhere, where the treasure was buried.
I shook my head. "Like a pirate map? Not any real ones."
Jules snorted with laughter, and Axelle looked irritated.
"Not a pirate map," she said. "Old maps. Real old maps. Did your father have anything like this among his things? Did you ever see anything else like this when you were little?"
Well, that ranked right up there as being one of the weirder questions I'd ever been asked. "No," I shook my head again and started moving toward the door. "Dad didn't have anything like that. See you later."
I slipped out the door into the lush, damp courtyard. It was early-I'd allowed plenty of time to get to school by public transportation-but already incredibly, jungle-style hot. Before I'd even reached the side gate, I felt damp and limp.X3reat. I swallowed the last of my bread, feeling it stick in my throat. Somehow, this morning, I missed my dad even more than yesterday.