A Brighter Tomorrow: My Journey with Julie

Even the thought of confronting Tracy makes me uncomfortable. But I need to put my own worries aside and be a good friend. I tell Julie I have an idea. Once we finish filling these bags and drop them off at 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 Tracy went with Mike, and if she can just talk to her, she’d feel better about everything.

I tell Julie I know. My little brother is the same way.

We finish filling our bags and stand at the edge of the cove to admire how clean it looks. Julie suggests we climb a bluff at the edge of the cove where a few people are looking at the ocean, since it’s a good lookout point with a view of the entire beach.

We run toward the bluff, kicking up sand and feeling the wind muss our hair. I find a path up the hill and Julie follows. We’re almost breathless at the top, looking down over the half-moon cove and the stretch of Ocean Beach. Gulls flit over 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 and says they need a lot more trash cans here. If the beach had extra trash cans along the sidewalk, more people might pick up their own trash and throw it away.

Kimberly studies the sidewalk where we’re pointing and agrees we have a good point. She’ll suggest it when she gets back to the office.

Chip comes over and compliments us on collecting two whole bags, practically bigger than ourselves. Julie adds that we brought over two more, making four. Chip admits he must have missed us bringing them over.

Julie explains that it was actually her older sister and friend who dropped them off, carrying tennis rackets, too. She asks if the rangers saw them.

Kimberly wrinkles her brow, confused, then recalls that yes, two more bags did turn up. She’d assumed the girls collected the trash themselves, since they’d even asked the rangers to sign forms verifying they’d contributed to the beach cleanup for some community project assignment.

Julie looks stung, and the rangers quickly smooth things over. Chip says the main thing is that we did a terrific job. I thank the rangers and tell them we’re happy to have helped. It was fun.

I glance at Julie, but her mouth is fixed in a tight line, as if she’d bitten into a lemon. 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 she can’t believe Tracy lied to her mom about where she was going, then lied to Julie and cheated on her project. She feels like she doesn’t even know her own sister anymore.

I remind Julie she said she might know where Tracy went. Julie’s eyes drift toward the hill. She explains that the big blue building is a restaurant called Cliff House, with a museum downstairs full of 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 heavy double doors decorated like a backgammon board. A witch-like cackle startles me as we step inside, and I look up to see a six-foot automated doll grinning down at me, sweeping me in with a mechanical wave. I shudder and grab Julie’s arm, but she’s laser-focused on finding her sister.

We wind through the museum, past the thunking of a piano player and the poinging of pinball machines. I hold up my hand. The stone in the ring is gray, gray for nervous. If I’m this nervous about the looming confrontation, I can’t imagine how Julie must feel.

We pass an arm-wrestling machine, a robot barbershop quartet, and a claw machine full of stuffed animals, then a Gypsy-looking fortune-teller machine that I can’t resist trying.

I fish a quarter from my pocket, slide it into the machine, and pull the lever. A small card appears in the slot by my knees. I grab it and rush after Julie, who’s slipped out of view, glancing down to read my fortune:

I hurry to catch up with Julie as she’s about to enter the next room, following on her heels with a sense of dread. It’s a silly fortune, I tell myself, no more meaningful than something from 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, unable to finish the thought of what happens if it doesn’t. Just stay calm until I know for sure.

I tell Julie I’ll be back and hurry off to find the bathroom. Alone in the stall, I close my eyes and twist the ring 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, but she freezes before she can turn to me. I don’t have to follow her gaze to know she’s spotted her sister. She glances back with a look that says she needs my help, too.

I feel dizzy with 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 too long and someone else finds it, tossing it in the garbage or keeping it? I could use another set of eyes to help me look.