A Brighter Tomorrow: My Journey with Julie

Even the thought of confronting Tracy makes me uncomfortable. But I realize I need to put aside my own worries and be a good friend. I tell Julie that I have an idea. After we finish filling up these bags and drop them off the parking lot, we should find Tracy so she can work things out with her. Julie asks if I wouldn’t mind. I can almost see the gears turning in her head. Julie might know where she went with Mike. If Julie can just talk to her, she’d feel better about everything. I tell her I know. My little brother is the same way.

We work to finish filling our bags. When we’re done, we stand at the edge of the cove to admire how clean it looks. The sand sparkles in the sun as the surf sweeps along the shore. Julie suggests we go to a bluff at the edge of the cove where a few people are standing to look at the ocean. It’s a good lookout point. We can see the entire beach from there.

We run toward the bluff, kicking up sand and feeling the wind muss our hair. I find a path that leads up the hill and Julie follows me. We’re almost breathless when we get to the top, looking down over the half-moon cove and the stretch of Ocean Beach. Sandpipers scurry along the shoreline and gulls flit and perch on the rocks below. And there’s no piece of litter in sight.

I look at Julie and she’s on tiptoe, almost lifting off the ground. It’s so beautiful. She thanks me for coming up with such a great idea. Julie couldn’t have done it without me. We run down the trail, grab our bags, and haul them to the green trucks. Julie waves to Kimberly. Julie says that they need a lot more trash cans here. If the beach had extra trash cans up and down the sidewalk, more people might be willing to pick up their own trash and throw it away.

Kimberly studies the sidewalk where we’re pointing. She says we have a good point. She’s going to make that suggestion when she gets back to the office. Chip comes over and compliments us on collecting two whole bags that are practically bigger than ourselves. Julie says we brought over two more as well so that makes four. Chip says that he must have missed us bringing them over. Julie explains that it was actually her older sister and friend who dropped them off. They were carrying tennis rackets, too. She asks if the rangers saw them. Kimberly wrinkles her brow, looking confused, and then says that they did turn into big bags. She thought they collected the trash themselves. They even asked the rangers to sign a couple of forms for them to verify they had contributed to the beach cleanup for some sort of community project assignment.

Julie looks stung and the rangers quickly try to smooth things over. Chip tells us the main thing is that we did a terrific job. I say thanks to the rangers and that we’re happy we could help. It was fun. I glance at Julie, but her mouth is fixed in a tight line as if she ate an entire lemon at once. Chip and Kimberly take our bags and heave them into the pickups. I tell Julie we should find her sister.

We walk across the parking lot in silence. After a few minutes, Julie says that she can’t believe Tracy. She lies to Mom about where she’s going and then she lies to Julie and cheats on her project. She feels like she doesn’t even know her own sister anymore. I remind her that she said she might know where Tracy went. Julie’s eyes drift away as she gazes up the hill. She says the big blue building is a restaurant called Cliff House. They have a museum downstairs with old-fashioned penny arcade games and pinball machines. Tracy loves going there when we come to the beach.

At the entrance to the Cliff House museum, Julie pushes through the heavy double-doors decorated like a backgammon board. A witch-like cackling startles me as we step inside, and I look up to see a six-foot, grinning automated doll staring down at me ushering me in with a mechanical sweet of her mannequin hand. I shudder and grab Julie’s arm. But she’s laser focused on finding her sister.

We wind through the museum and I hear thunking of a piano player in the background and the poinging sounds of pinball machines. I hold up my hand. The stone in the ring is gray, gray for nervous. If I’m nervous about the looming confrontation, I can’t imagine how Julie must be feeling. We see an arm-wrestling machine, a robot barbershop quartet, and a claw machine full of stuffed animal prizes. We pass a Gypsy-looking fortune-teller machine and I have an impulse to give it a try. I stop and fish the quarter out of my pocket. I slide it into the machine and pull the lever. A small card appears in the slot by my knees and I grab it as Julie slips out of view. I rush after her through a maze of kids and parents, and I glance down to read my fortune:

  Danger is just around the corner.

I hurry to catch up with Julie as she’s about to enter the next room. I follow on her heels feeling a sense of dread. I tell myself it’s a silly fortune. No more meaningful than something you get in a fortune cookie. But after my experience with the mood ring, I’m not convinced. I squeeze the ring, feeling for the stone. And that’s when I notice something terrible has happened. The stone in my ring is gone.

A rush of panic makes my heart race as I stare at the empty setting of the ring. One of the prongs has been bent back. Maybe the ring will still work without the stone, I tell myself. But if it doesn’t— I can’t bring myself to finish the thought. Just stay calm. Don’t worry until I know whether the ring will work without the stone.

I yell at Julie that I’ll be back. I hurry off to find the bathroom. Alone in the bathroom stall, I close my eyes before twisting the ring and pulling it off my finger. There’s no whoosh, no dizzy feeling like before. I open my eyes. I’m still in the bathroom stall. I feel sick. This can’t be happening. I won’t be able to get back to my own time if I can’t find the stone. And it could be anywhere in the arcade.

I dash out of the bathroom and spot Julie in the next room. I tell her I need help. She starts to turn to me, but then she freezes in place. I don’t have to follow her gaze to know that she spotted her sister. She glances back at me with a look that says that she needs my help. I feel dizzy with the thoughts swirling in my head. Julie is counting on me. After all, it’s because of me that she’s here ready to face her sister. I’m looking for a stone, right? What if I wait so long that someone else finds it and tosses it in the garbage or keeps it? I could really use another set of eyes to help me look for it.