She searched for her friends in the
crowd, but couldn’t see past the line of fluttering blue graduation gowns
stretching in front and behind her. The overly cheerful color of the robes
threatened to blind her and didn’t make up for the overcast skies outside or
the added letdown dealt to her by her parents.
They should have come.
Hetty’s fingers, bloated from too
much pastry, sugar, and caffeine, clutched at the long, blue shroud dragging on
the floor. She’d taken the time to decorate her nails — black paint with little
white skulls — but the effort was wasted with her fingertips buried in fabric.
Stealing glances at the little skulls, she neglected the length of the
graduation robe, not always lifting the hem, tangling her feet again and again.
She lurched into Bobby
Lobb
.
“Damn. Sorry,” she said.
He glared over his shoulder. She
hadn’t expected his forgiveness, but she’d hoped for some small change from the
norm. More than that, she hungered to enter a new era, one where her life
morphed into something like Ann Marie’s on the classic TV show
That Girl
.
A stupid wish, she knew, because she needed to know different people, have more
stylish clothes, and get a better-paying job.
Dumb.
Hetty shrank behind her long mane
of purple and black — the purple freshly applied last night — letting the
fringe conceal the world she wanted to escape from at least five times a day.
Memorial Coliseum erupted in hoots
and hollers for each graduate, extra loud for Bobby, then the dean spoke her
name.
Henrietta Guinevere Locklear
. A hush settled like conversation in
an elevator. Her heart rate sped up, and her palms sweated. She felt certain
the crowd in the auditorium gawked at her horrid name, the two extra years it
took her to graduate, her lackluster grades, and the fact she remained stuck in
adolescence.
The gown bunched around her ankles,
teetering her on the stairs leading up to the stage. The hair clips securing
the cap on her head threatened to give way, and one hand released the drape of
her gown to clutch at the mortarboard.
She blinked at the dean, her face
paling and her pulse sprinting as if on three triple espressos. What if he said
she hadn’t graduated after all? It could explain the lack of magic.
Perspiration beaded along her
hairline. Her chest and back felt sticky. This was the moment. If she didn’t
feel the change now, it would never happen.
The dean’s eyes narrowed and he
shoved the padded booklet at her. A very promising start, more so than if he’d
handed her nothing. Reflex made her let go of her robe and cap to clasp the
certificate to a new version of herself, and she reveled in the metamorphosis
about to envelop her. It didn’t happen. There was no tingle, no different
feeling.
Her fingers trembled, caressing the
silver lettering on the slate-blue
pleather
. Like the
magic lantern, perhaps she had to rub it. Oh please, she begged silently, but
the universe ignored her. Nothing enchanting happened. The dean said nothing
evocative. No transformation made her more of an adult. She was still the same
Hetty Locklear, still as clueless and confused as the day she’d enrolled at the
local community college four years ago. Jeez, she couldn’t catch a break.
Tears welled, blurring her vision.
Here unfolded the key event insuring she’d not become her parents, but
graduation turned out to be such a nothing thing. Only a few
woots
and a smattering of applause marked it. She wished to
be somewhere else. Anywhere else. The best place lay in her mind…
The auditorium disappeared, the
gown transformed to hug her curves, and her chubby bulges faded away. The flow
of fabric became a stylish spacesuit, the mortarboard a helmet.
As the
Hysic
high priestess, Hetty reached up toward the sky, speaking with the sun, asking
it to break from the clouds. A beam blasted its way out of the heavy, gray
billows, highlighting the world behind her. Some of her people broke from the
ranks, demonstrating why the
Hysics
were the best
society in the galaxy. One at a time they paraded into the glory streaming
down, each in turn basking in what Hetty had gifted, then they moved off to
allow the next
Hysic
a moment in the life-giving
light.
A tiny blonde girl joined Hetty on
the platform and added her thanks to the
heavans
. The
Cosmic Lords had answered their prayers.
Thunderous applause — the accolades
Hetty sought — followed. She twirled, round and round, wrapping herself in the
new epoch dawning, tossing up her helmet.
A round boy-man joined her and the
blonde on the stage then a freckled boy-man. They gestured rudely at Hetty,
calling to a man beside the stairs robed in a respectful black. Black Robe
squinted up at her and offered his hand, showing her the love of the people.
She could see it in his gaze, deep and penetrating. He drew her closer. She let
him pull her in, squeezing his fingers.
“You’re backing things up, Miss.
Get moving please.” Black Robe dragged her down from the stage and slung her to
the side.
The blonde, Round Boy, and Freckles
disappeared into waiting arms and flashing lights. Photos and celebration.
Family and love. Things Hetty wanted more of in her life. She had counted on
adulthood bringing them. Where was the magic?
Like a swipe across a dry erase
board, the
Hysic
Empire vanished. Hetty’s star became
stage lights, her helmet turned into a mortarboard, her cosmic uniform changed
into a graduation gown, and her summons to the sky was only an infantile
gesture, a dream to get through her disappointment of the day being nothing
special.
The meager cheers for her came from
Raspberry Barrett, her best friend, and Maisy Koyama, her cousin. She could see
them whistling, jumping, and hollering. Better than nothing.
Hetty swept her straight tresses,
which flowed down to her waist, off her shoulders and out of her face. The
fringe immediately sprang back, hiding an eye as startlingly blue as cobalt
glass catching the light. Her eyes were her best feature, but she didn’t
believe they counteracted her long, oval face enough. So she let her hair fall
into its usual place, keeping the world at bay — a confusing and desolate place
where nothing could be depended upon, not even adulthood. A job and money
didn’t materialize, friends didn’t appear like Portland’s rains, and she didn’t
suddenly become outgoing.
Despite all that, she reminded
herself to be proud and raised her chin. She’d earned her degree and half the
day remained; plenty of time for a little magic to happen.
Stand Alone
ebooks
:
Semper
Audacia
Alone. Leda is the last living member of the brigade, the sole defender of her
world. War took everyone she knew, leaving her in the company of memories and
ghosts. Or is it madness? The siren blares. The enemy is coming. Or is it? The
approaching vessel isn’t a friendly design, but it answers with the correct
code. Leda must figure out whether the arrival is reinforcements or the final
assault. In an aging flyer, she ventures out to meet her world’s fate, the last
stand.
Short Fiction FREE Reads
Plantgirl
Ba
Rainy goes about with Miracle
Gro
in her shoes, hoping to attain some sort of super power or a miracle.
Small
Graces
Grace crash lands on a planet and finds
something she didn’t know she was looking for.
Translations
Mitchell Allen is trapped inside the ruin of a temple. It’s up to Nora and her
knack with languages to get him out. Can she decipher the ancient engravings in
time?
You might also like:
Untethered
Realms
Tap into worlds, wings,
and
specfic
things with”
¨
Laura
Eno