[LJ Idol] Season 8, Free Topic, "a matter of perspective"
Challenge Name and Number: Free Topic, Here Comes the Sun
Title: a matter of perspective
Word Count: 1049
Warnings (if applicable): None
Summary: Instead of looking at the ground, she should’ve been looking at the sky.
Author’s Notes: Fiction. I hope you enjoy!
a matter of perspective
She did two cartwheels, her palms holding steady to the tufts of grass peeking through the dirt. The old fairgrounds had stood vacant for years, but she liked to think she would have fit in with the other acrobats and tumblers she’d seen the last time the circus had visited. Back then, the place had smelled like sugar and fried foods and smoke. Now, all that was gone. The magic of it had left this place, left it dry and empty and it had never quite recovered.
“Victoria!” Bobby called, walking far enough behind her that he wouldn’t get kicked when she dove into another flip.
She wiped her hands on the knees of her khaki pants. “I do not answer to that name.”
“Vicky.” He sighed, scratching at one ear. “What are we doing here? It’s getting dark.”
“That’s the point, stupid.” Vicky followed the walkways set into the dusty ground as the two made their way closer to the center of the fairgrounds. The buildings had long been torn down, but a large slab of concrete still rested there, and it would be the perfect place. “I’ve taken care of all the details. My parents think I’m eating dinner with yours, and your parents think you’re eating with mine. Now we just have to wait till it gets dark, that’s when the meteor shower is supposed to start.”
Bobby looked upset at the prospect of missing dinner altogether, but he settled down cross-legged on the concrete while Vicky did a somersault. “We’re lucky, you know,” she said. “Sometimes when these things come through, we can’t see them ‘cause it’s daytime. Or I can’t stay up late enough and end up falling asleep. I’m not going to miss this one, though. And this is perfect-no tree cover, just wide open space. We should’ve invited all the neighborhood kids and charged admission at the gate.”
“We’d be caught,” Bobby said. “And this is public land.”
“Well, we’re the public too, aren’t we?” Vicky stretched out on the concrete, resting her head against both hands. It was cold, but after a few seconds it didn’t seem to matter much.
“We don’t count, we’re kids,” Bobby muttered.
She yawned, and shifted to scratch at her nose. She wasn’t wearing a watch, but she knew that the meteor shower was supposed to start at eight. The moon was a sliver of white in the sky, still a chalky Prussian blue color. The wind had picked up, whistling across the ground and making the few blades of grass tremble and sway amid the dust. It was soothing and comfortable, and Vicky found herself nodding off, her eyes closing even as she struggled to watch the skyline.
She dreamt about acrobats and jugglers and fire-breathers who could warm her hands with a single cough. She dreamt of white tigers and fireworks and the measured rhythm of a twirling baton. It was wonderful and brilliant, and each tent she entered was sharper and brighter than the last. She glanced at the sky; it was sunny to the point of being blinding, and she had to lift a hand to shield her eyes from it. When she could see clearly again, everything was muted, the brilliant colors sapped and the acrobats’ motions slower. The magic and enchantment of it was truly gone. There was no circus to run away with, not anymore.
Someone was pushing at her shoulder. “Vicky, wake up,” Bobby snapped. Her cheek hit the concrete, cold against her ear, and her eyes snapped open. “You’ll kill me if I let you miss this.”
She glanced up, and the sky was alive with movement. Stars swam from one side of the sky to the other, bits of glittering light that seemed to ignite the darkness. Every few seconds another emerged, each more brilliant and beautiful. Vicky’s mouth hung open as she rested on her elbows, doing her best to take it all in. Beside her, Bobby seemed just as impressed, and she could hear him trying to count all the meteorites under his breath.
She didn’t know how long it continued, but when the last star streaked across the sky she leaned back, satisfied. “That was totally worth it,” she said, resting her head back on her hands. “Amazing. That one won’t come back for years and years.” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “I should’ve brought a camera.”
“I can remember it just fine,” Bobby replied, leaning back himself against the concrete, adding, “I should’ve brought a sandwich.”
Vicky doesn’t dream this time, and it’s not Bobby that wakes her up. Instead, there’s a bright light shining in her face, and she blinks and turns against her arms to try and shield herself from it.
She’s lying on something infinitely harder than her mattress, and when her brain finally catches up she realizes she’s still at the fairgrounds, and they’d slept through the sunrise. She staggered to her feet, kicking Bobby in the ankles.
“Wake up! Oh, we’re going to be in so much trouble. Up!” She kicked a little harder, and when he opened his eyes and saw the sun, his expression mirrored her own.
“It’s a Sunday,” she gasped, “so there’s a chance everyone’s still asleep. Let’s go!” Together, the two stumbled across the fairgrounds to the gate, slipping through it and half-running up the sidewalk. There weren’t any cars on the road yet, for which she was grateful.
The sun was still rising ahead of them, moving higher into the sky with every passing minute. Dragging Bobby, she couldn’t shield her eyes from it this time, but as she blinked into the light it reminded her of the bleached circus tents and the wholly different lights that had peppered the sky. Those lights were infinitely more magical. Instead of looking at the ground, she should’ve been looking at the sky.
They passed Bobby’s house first, and he made for the window he’d left unlatched. Vicky was still tired, and the ground was uneven, but as she approached her own house she did another cartwheel, watching the way the ground and sky flipped. It was over after a second, but the feeling stuck with her. It made her feel buoyant and light, like so many stars racing across the sky.