All the Legs

“Nobody believed in me. That was their first mistake,” Pranee took a breath, a serious expression on her face, “It was the summer of my four-”

Harriet cut her off, “That’s not true.”

Pranee dropped the public speaking tone, “Excuse me?”

She folded her arms, leaning back against the green park bench, “Your parents have always believed in you. Ms. Breen believed in you. Rad believes in us. Trevor believes in us. I believe in us.”

Pranee sighed, “That’s not the point.”

Harriet shrugged, “Sounds like it’s the point.”

Pranee rolled her eyes, “I obviously don’t mean that nobody has ever believed in me. It’s a figure of speech. For the drama. To really hook the audience.”

“Huh, I’ve never heard of that figure of speech,” she studied Pranee for a moment, “What are you doing anyway?”

“Practicing a speech for when our crew is chosen.”

“If our crew is chosen,” Harriet corrected.

If our crew, which might not even have enough members, is chosen. In seven months. After the training we haven’t been accepted into yet.

“When,” she gave Harriet a pointed look, “Confidence.”

“Right.”

Pranee continued, “Anyway, it was the summer of my fourth grade year when I first found out about ONOSRA. I’d always had a fascination with the stars.”

Harriet winced. Every promising young space explorer would be talking about their long time love of stars. The time they’d built a pretend rocket and broken their arm jumping off the roof. How some of the ONOSRA research team had done a presentation at their school years back and it had inspired them to new heights. Pun intended.

“That sounds unoriginal.”

“You’re unoriginal,” she snapped.

“Geez. Nerves getting to you?”

Her cheeks reddened, “Sorry.”

Harriet uncrossed her arms, “Do you really need me here, or could you talk to a mirror instead? I think I’m not the best audience.”

Pranee’s eyebrows raised, “Do you not care?’

“I care. About space. About you. Not about the speech that we’ll have months to work on. Sorry,” Harriet grinned sheepishly as she rose from the bench, “See–well I guess I’ll hear you at the concert.”

She started to jog along one of the paths that led to the edges of the park.

“See you!” Pranee called after her.

“Nah, you’ll hear me cheering your name. Whole time. Nobody will be able to hear your music!” Harriet yelled, running backwards.

She was still running backwards when she tripped into a flowerbed.

“I blame astrology,” Harriet muttered to herself as she stood, ignoring the dirt on her leggings.

She scanned the flowerbed where she’d fallen, hoping she hadn’t crushed any peonies. She hadn’t. Luckily. She was pretty sure there was a fine for damaging the foliage in public parks.

Harriet ran forward the rest of the way through the park. When she reached Stop 32 she pulled out her bright orange train pass, making sure she hadn’t dropped it. She slid it back into her pocket, quietly grateful for Marie Cersher’s pockets protests. 1124 had been an innovative year.

Harriet turned her attention to the train map, it showed the Inner City Even Train Route in green. She followed the line to Stop 2, the historical plaza, Stops 4-10, the older residential district. Stops 12-22, assorted parks. Stops 24-28, the Aquarium, Zoo, and Museum. Stops 30-36, Central Park. And Stops 38-42, the local elementary school, middle school, and, most importantly, Nilson County High School.

The train trilled as it glided to a stop. It hovered in place as its back doors opened, and about twelve people shuffled off. The front doors opened shortly after the back doors. Harriet entered behind a short woman with blond hair. The floor tilted and shifted slightly as people entered, then righted itself. Harriet found a window seat with a decent view, and sat down. Four trills from the horn, and they were off.

She watched the scenery pass for a moment. Tall buildings, some seemingly coated in colorful screens. Trees. The occasional passing of another train along the guide tracks. She understood vaguely how the magnetics worked but hadn’t ever taken much interest in the trains. She made a mental note to do some research later if she had the time.

Several stops passed before Harriet turned her attention from the outside world to the stop displays along the ceiling. The next stop was 38. Willow Loft Elementary School. She glanced at the other passengers. The blond lady had left. Some new folks had gotten on, as was the way of trains.

As Harriet glanced around the train, she caught sight of a boy. She recognized his dark shortish-longish hair and glasses with one lens being rectangular, the other a circle, but couldn’t place his name. She wasn’t even sure they’d formally met. He caught her gaze, and gave her a half wave. She returned the gesture, then continued to watch the display.

The train came to Stop 42, and Harriet stood to leave, as well as several other passengers. One of these was the boy, carrying what looked to be a violin case. The passengers stepped off of the train. Nobody entered, which made sense, as it was outside of school hours.

Harriet made for the front entrance. She made it to the front, then rang the doorbell. She waited for the front office to let her in. As she waited, the boy caught up with her, waiting beside her.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hey,” Harriet responded.

He nodded to her, “You look familiar, have we met?”

“Not formally. That’s surprising though.”

The boy tilted his head, “It is?”

Harriet shrugged, “Yeah, you’re obviously performing in the concert tonight, and I know most of the orchestra, and much of band.”

The door clicked. Harriet reached for the door, holding it open for the boy.

He entered, “How do you know I’m performing tonight?”

She followed, “You’re wearing concert black.”

“Maybe that’s just my sense of style.”

“You’re carrying an instrument.”

He laughed, “True.”

They reached the escalator. The boy passed it. Harriet boarded it. She rose slowly.

“Break a leg tonight.”

“I will break all the legs.”

Harriet smiled.