A Brighter Tomorrow: My Journey with Julie

I decide I might as well explore the strange world beyond this bedroom. Like the girl’s room, the rest of the house is just like our new San Francisco home. But, Mom’s sleek, modern furniture has been replaced by cool, retro stuff. In the kitchen there’s a clock in the shape of a cat whose tail and eyes move back and forth with every tick and tock. In the living room, there’s beaded lampshades and ceramic pots and knotted rope plant hangers. As I go from room to room, I feel like Goldilocks exploring the three bears’ house. I realize that if someone came home right now, I’d have no way to explain how I got here. I should get out before that happens.

I step onto the sidewalk and notice a van parked nearby on which someone has painted FLOWER POWER in colorful, swirly letters. A teenage boy in a tie-dyed shirt leans against the van, bouncing a beanbag off his shoe. A woman in a velvet cap, a leather vest, and a long skirt passes me on the street. She smiles and holds up a peace-sign with her fingers. Apparently, it wasn’t just my room in the apartment that changed when I put on the ring. It was the whole neighborhood.

I look up at the apartment building. It is the same building on the corner of Redbud and Frederick that we just moved into. The street signs have the same names. I look to see if the coffee shop below is there, but it isn’t. Instead, there’s a little boutique with a sign above it that says Gladrags.

The bell jingles as I go into the shop. It’s a vintage thrift store. There are retro clothes on the racks and purses made out of old blue jeans. There are wooden bowls on the counter filled with rings and bracelets made out of silver forks and spoons. A boombox sits on the shelf, playing an oldies song I remember Dad liking.

A woman about my mom’s age gives me a warm smile. She looks vaguely familiar and I realize she’s the woman in the framed photo on the dresser upstairs. She welcomes me into the store. I pretend to study a display of night lights as I try to figure out what’s going on. How did I get here?

Just then, a girl with long blonde hair pops up behind the counter and greets me with a big smile. It’s the girl from the photos on the dresser. She scurries around the corner with a basketball under her arm and introduces herself as Julie Albright. Apparently, this is her mother’s shop. I tell her that I’m just browsing around, but what I’m really looking for is a clue that might tell me where I am and what’s going on. The girl says that she has a rainbow ribbon just like the one that I have in my hair. She says that she used to have two, but she lost one.

I am about to ask her whether it might be in her window seat when I notice a calendar pinned to the wall. It says it is September, 1975.

Have I traveled back in time? I look down in the mood ring in amazement. It didn’t take me to a different place, but to a different time. While I’m quiet, Julie interrupts my thoughts and says that she likes my mood ring. She says she has one like it in her room, too. Of course. It all makes sense. My room was her room in 1975. So could I be wearing Julie’s mood ring from the 1970s? I swallow hard. I tell her that my ring is gray. What does that mean?

She raises an eyebrow and says that gray means I’m nervous. No surprise there. She tosses her ball into the air and asks if I play basketball. In spite of my confusion, my face lights up and I tell her that I love basketball. Julie smiles and says that we can head to the park and shoot hoops when I’m done shopping. Chloe and I used to love playing HORSE in her driveway back in Ohio. I tell her that that would be fun. Making friends is easy in 1975. So why is it so hard back in my own time?

Julie shows me around the store, pointing out the apple seed bracelets, the fuzzy foot shaped rugs, and flower-power necklace charms. I end up buying one of the necklace charms with the Kennedy half-dollar in my pocket. I get back a 1966 quarter which isn’t quite as cool, but it’s still almost fifty years old.

As Julie and I head to the door, her mom reminds her that her dad is coming to pick her up at five tonight. Julie winces. Is Tracy coming? Her mom shrugs and says that you never know with her sister. Julie gives a sigh and shoves the door open. I ask if she’s okay and she says that if she had a mood ring on right now, it would be amber. Anxious Amber.

She bounces her ball against the wall and says that she doesn’t understand her sister. She knows that teenagers can be moody, but they only get to see their dad on weekends now that her parents are divorced. She almost says the D word in a whisper. She says that Tracy refused to see him last weekend and she might not come again this week. I don’t know what to say. I can hardly even talk to my own brother about these things.

Julie walks up to a newspaper in a self-service kiosk on the sidewalk. It is talking about a littered beach that might close soon. The black-and-white photo shows a couple of sunbathing teenagers surrounded by pop cans and trash. Julie throws her hands up in the air. She says that this beach is her favorite beach. She asks me if I ever feel like things are just spiraling out of control. I tell her that I do.

Is it possible that there’s a reason I arrived in Julie’s life at this exact moment in history? I might not be able to help my brother, but maybe I can help a new friend. My first thought is to get her mind off her troubles by showing her the funny puppy video my dad emailed me. But there is no internet in 1975. Julie likes basketball, so maybe we can play a game of HORSE. But what if I could find her a different way to do something about the things that are troubling her?