A Brighter Tomorrow: My Journey with Julie

I pick up my computer and put it on my desk before slumping back into the window seat. Just then, the cushion shifts under me, and when I reach down to adjust it, I feel hinges where the seat meets the wall. Does the seat open?

I toss the cushion onto the bed. Sure enough, the bench seat is hinged, and when I lift the lid, I find dust, cobwebs, a dangly peace-sign earring, a nail clipper, a rainbow hair ribbon, and a half dollar from 1975. It’s like a little time capsule.

I tie the rainbow ribbon around my ponytail and pocket the other treasures. Before I close the lid, something shiny catches my eye. It’s a ring with a big black stone. I pick it up, close the window seat, and sit down.

I slip the ring on, and as I admire it, the stone begins to lighten. Is it one of those mood rings?

Then the room starts to spin. I close my eyes, but my stomach drops as if I’m falling. I land with a thud and open my eyes.

I’m still sitting on the window seat, but everything has changed. The room looks like mine, but my things have been replaced with someone else’s. Beaded curtains hang across the window and a canopy hangs around the bed, which has a colorful bedspread. Next to the bed sits a chair shaped like a giant egg, with a matching ottoman. A lava lamp glows on the desk beside an old-fashioned record player and tape recorder. A framed family photo sits on the dresser.

Two parents, a teenage girl, and a girl around my age smile out from the frame. The younger girl has long blonde hair with a little braid down one side and sparkling brown eyes. A second photo shows her with her arm around the shoulder of a pretty Asian girl. Alphabet stickers spell out JULIE + IVY = BEST FRIENDS along the border. Could this be the blonde girl’s room?

How did I get here? One moment I was sitting on the window seat in my new room, and the next I landed in this strange place. Did I fall down a rabbit hole like in Alice in Wonderland? I open the seat again to peek inside. It’s filled to the brim with books and stuffed animals. How could I possibly fall down through there? I close the lid and sit down.

Across the street, a house is painted bright purple and turquoise, but I swear just a few minutes ago it was green with white trim. Even the trees look different, smaller. This morning, I could hardly see the green house through the canopy of branches. Now the trees are tiny, barely taking up any room on the sidewalk.

I glance down at the mood ring, which is now a cloudy amber color, and realize the transformation happened when I put it on. I slip it off and suddenly I’m spinning again, as if turning cartwheels. Just as suddenly, I land back in my old room. Out the window, the house across the street is green and white, not purple and turquoise.

The clock on my laptop says 12:35. It’s been at least five minutes since Chloe and I made a wish together, and yet…

I open my hand and stare at the ring in my palm. Is it really a mood ring? It seems to do more than show moods, it shows other places. What would happen if I put it on again?

I have to try. I slip the ring back on and feel the spinning sensation again, just like before. When I open my eyes, I’m back in the strange room with the purple house across the street.