Carmen Ferreiro-Esteban - Two Moon Princess

So this is what would become of my world , I thought, if Tio’s ever learns about it. A graveyard for the dead, a museum for the living .

I looked up. “This is why you brought me here, isn’t it? So that I’d agree to go back to my world.” It wasn’t a question.

But Tío shook his head. “No, Andrea. I brought you here so you would understand why. So you would understand how dangerous it is for your world to be discovered, and so you would never again tread lightly between your world and mine.”

I nodded. “I won’t,Tío. I’ll go back to my world when the moon grows full again and stay there.”

And despite all the beauty of the place, I felt like crying.

By the time we headed back to Davis, my resolution TO return to my world had started to dwindle. Yes, I knew our worlds should never meet, but at the thought of passing another uneventful winter, not to mention the rest of my life, in the company of my mother’s ladies, I felt half-dead already. Surely there had to be a flaw in Tio’s careful reconstruction of the destruction of one way of life by another. To start with, how was he so sure what had happened in the missions these two hundred years past? Tío was old, but not that old. He could not have been there in person.

My uncle laughed at my suggestion. “Of course I wasn’t, Andrea. And no, we can’t ever be one hundred percent sure we got the facts right. But there are ways of getting close to the truth. That’s what archaeology is about: the study of cultures and people long gone.”

“But how? I mean, could you teach me how to learn about the past?”

“And why would you like to learn that?”

“So that I could study the Xarens back in my world.”

Tío smiled. “To study the Xarens? Now that is actually an old dream of mine.”

“Is that a yes,Tío? Will you teach me now, and then, when I’m back in my world, will you ask my parents to let me study the old cities of the Xarens?”

Tío shook his head. “Sorry, Andrea. But I don’t think your parents would approve. As you know, in your world, ladies do not roam the countryside in search of ruins.”

I scowled. “I’m not a lady.”

Tío laughed. “So you say.”

I sulked. But not for long. I knew Tío was interested in studying the Xarens, and as he could not stay in my world for long due to his responsibilities in his own world, it would be in his best interests to allow me to help. He just needed a little convincing. And I knew just how to tempt him.

“You know, Tío, that the king of Suavia has a collection of Xarens’ texts?”

Tío turned to face me, his eyes eagerly bright. “Really?” he said, the car swerving briefly out of its lane and crunching into the shoulder. “How do you know that?”

“Don Alfonso told me. I could ask him to let me see them.”

Tío laughed. “I see. And is it the Xarens or Don Alfonso you want to study?”

I blushed. I blushed even though there was nothing to blush about, as I found the thought of a romance with Don Alfonso nothing short of appalling. I was about to tell Tío this when it occurred to me that if Tío thought my interest in the Xarens was just a way of getting a boyfriend, a prince of my world no less, he might be more inclined to indulge my learning. And besides, if Tío thought I fancied the haughty prince of Suavia, he would never realize I liked John and thus would not think of preventing me from seeing him.

So I said nothing, and trying hard not to smile, I lay back in my comfortable leather seat and watched the hills pass by my window. I was pleased with myself. My future already looked brighter in my world.

And I still had three weeks left in California to work things out. I was not going to let the certainty of my return to my boring world spoil my fun.

After Tío dropped me off at the dorms, I went straight to Kelsey’s room. I could not wait to tell her I had changed my mind about studying to be an English teacher—the official explanation for my being in California—and had decided to take up classes in archaeology. But Kelsey had news of her own: she was not going to be Juliet in the play, but Mercutio. And that, I gathered by the anger in her voice, was not good news.

I had helped Kelsey a couple of times the previous week prepare for her audition. Once I got over the unbelievable fact that she was a student in the Drama Department—which basically meant she was studying to be on stage, something no lady would ever do in my world—I had actually enjoyed it. At her request, I had read Romeo’s lines to her Juliet. So I knew Romeo and Juliet were the main characters. I did not remember anyone named Mercutio.

Kelsey went livid when I told her that. “See what I mean? No one remembers Mercutio. And why should they? He is so dispensable he dies at the beginning of the play.”

“He? Mercutio is a boy? But how . . .”

“There are not enough boys for the play,” Kelsey said matter-of-factly.

That was not what I meant. It was strange enough for me to accept that acting was something so widely accepted in this world it was even taught at the university. But for a woman to impersonate a boy in front of an audience . . .

What would Mother think of this? I wondered, Mother who had totally forbidden me to dress like a boy and be a squire once I turned fourteen. But then I remembered my mother had lived in California as a girl and thus must have been familiar with this world’s customs. Mother living in California was in itself a shocking thought. But not ready to dwell on this right then, I pushed it aside and turned my attention back to Kelsey. My cousin was still rumbling about the injustice of the world at large and her drama teacher in particular, who obviously had a personal interest in Lindsay as she, Kelsey, was a much better actress. Lindsay, I imagined, had gotten the part of Juliet. I did not ask.

Instead I asked her again about Mercutio. Kelsey grabbed one of the books lying on her bed and tossed it to me. “There, see for yourself. Page eleven. List of characters.”

I took the book and read the description under Mercutio, Romeo’s friend. And what I read about him was not as bad as Kelsey’s mood had made me fear. In fact, it was pretty flattering.

“Listen, Kelsey. It says here Shakespeare killed Mercutio because he was becoming a more interesting character than Romeo or even Juliet.”

“Yeah right. Except you’re missing the key word: killed. As in Shakespeare killed Mercutio. He killed him in the first scene of Act III. The play has five acts. So you do the math.”

“Well, yes. You are only in three of the acts. But you have some of the best lines in the play,” I reminded her, flipping quickly through the book. “And you die in a sword fight.”

“So?”

“Come on, Kelsey, don’t be so pessimistic. I can teach you how to fence. I bet no one else will know how to fight with a sword. You’ll totally stand out.”

Kelsey looked at me in surprise. “You know how to fence?”

“Well, yes—I mean, I took classes when I was young.”

Kelsey’s eyes opened wide with excitement. “Why didn’t you say so before? We’ll expand the fighting scenes! We’ll make them the center of the play! That would give the play a new angle. One I’m sure has never been done before. And Lindsay, being Juliet, will not be in any of them.” She beamed at me. “Andrea, you’re a genius.”

The next day, Kelsey took me with her to the rehearsal and explained to Dan, the stage director, her new ideas about the play. Then at his request, we performed the steps we had practiced the previous evening for Mercutio’s fight and death. Dan was dutifully impressed and agreed to let Kelsey choreograph the fighting scenes. As for me, I was asked to teach Kelsey and the other actors the proper moves in a sword fight.