A Tale of Two Centuries

driving me insane, and I realized that he was that boy. I thought I was calling out for adventure, and I was—the first part of the vision, the glimpse of me onstage, proved it. And the reality was everything I pictured it would be. But I was also calling out for a chance at love.

So it would be a lie to say that Austin has no bearing on my decision tonight. He is, after all, the first man to inspire the true stirrings of love in my heart. But I know as well as I know my own name that he is not the sole reason.

“No,” I tell her with certainty. “Austin is wonderful, and I do care for him, but I want to stay here for me. I want the life I can live here. I want to be the person this place has made me. And I want to continue growing into the person I know I can become because of the freedoms and possibilities this century allows.”

Reyna drums her long, black-painted nails along the matching tablecloth, and I realize that is the first sound I have heard other than the soft clink of her jewelry and our own voices since entering the tent. Having grown accustomed to the noises of Cat’s world, I know that even in this short time, I should have heard the wail of an ambulance, the screech of tires, and at least a dozen impatient car horns coupled with yells of annoyance. I tilt my head, straining to listen, but hear nothing. Not even the melodic bubbling of a fountain that would signal home. It is as if we exist in our own dimension, being neither here nor there.

Pinpricks of trepidation prickle on my skin as I wonder if my arguments have all been for nothing, that I am already on my way back to my own century. But Reyna has never given me reason to suspect she would mislead me, that she would have me explain my reasons simply to yank my dreams away. The powers of fate and destiny can be overwhelming and scary for certain, but Reyna has proven herself time and time again to be on our side. One of the good ones. A friend.

I close my eyes and begin rocking back and forth in my chair. The creak of the aged wood lulls me. And I decide to choose trust even in the middle of so much fearful uncertainty.

But then Reyna asks, “Tell me, Alessandra, do you remember the message I left you with?” and my eyes snap open.

It takes a moment to notice the small smile playing upon her lips. When I do, the air around us shifts. Holding onto hope that I’m finally going to learn my fate, I repeat the words I can probably recite in my sleep—and probably do. “You said that the adventure I seek is full of possibilities, but that I should always remember where my real strength lies. Though that is what confuses me. You came to Cat’s home prepared to send me back before I even performed on the stage. Is that not where my strength lies? The stage?”

“No, it is not.” Reyna reaches across the table to grasp my hand. She uncurls the fingers I’ve formed into a fist and traces a long line down the center of my open palm. “Your true strength lies in yourself.”

I pull back my hand and stare at the series of squiggles. “I do not understand.”

“You say you are stronger here,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice, “but that strength has been inside you all along. Your strength lies in your heart, in your selfless caring for those around you. When you trust that inner voice, when you let go of expectations and follow that loving heart of yours, Alessandra, you’re able to move mountains. Cat and Austin can attest to that. If you had found a way to embrace that strength in the past, in your own time, then that would be where you should return. But if the trappings of the modern world and the opportunities here are what you need to become your true self, then that has always been an option. You just had to realize the possibility and grasp it.” She pauses. “For the right reasons.”

She lets her words sink in and then clears her throat delicately. “All you needed was to challenge yourself to figure it out. And to help you do so, I might have given you a little push in the right direction.”

I note the inflection on the word challenge and the sharpness of her gaze, and it clicks in my mind. “You are Miss Edwards.”

She winks. Rubbing my tense forehead, I ask, “So the other night when you said that the decision was not in your power, you meant it was in mine?” She gives me a knowing smile, and I shake my head in amazement. “This was certainly much easier than I expected.”

Reyna chuckles. “Alessandra, I have learned that our world is filled with two kinds of people: old souls, and people who were born before their time. You, dear girl, are the latter.”

My chest swells, knowing that is as close to a compliment as I may ever get from her. I lower my gaze to the table and land on the white candle. “So that is it?” I ask, wondering why she lighted it if so. “No spells to perform? No magic tricks?”

She shakes her head. “Once you walk out of this tent, history will be forever changed. So you must be sure that this is what you want, for once history is altered you cannot go back.”

Amazement and profound relief that I—formerly timid me—actually took a stand for what I wanted and won consume me. But then I remember everyone I am leaving behind.

How is it possible to feel so much happiness and sadness at one time? Can a heart withstand such turmoil?

I know this is the right decision. My parents are grown, and my father has always told me to follow my heart.

You are a good girl, Alessandra, with a good heart. Follow that, and you shall never be led astray.

The memory of his words brings fresh tears to my eyes.

This is what my heart is telling me is right…but that doesn’t keep it from shattering. Never again will I feel Mama’s arms hold me. I will not hear her singing or the lilt of my father’s laughter, or see the crinkle around Cipriano’s eyes in the very rare moments he shucks his overwhelming sense of duty and smiles.

I brush away a tear as it glides down my cheek. “What will my family believe happened to me?”

Reyna purses her lips and considers me. “I suppose we can handle it any number of ways. It was my intention for them to awake in the morning with the belief that you ran away for love. But if you wish something different, I am open to your suggestions.”

I do wish something different, but I have asked for so much already. It seems selfish to request anything more—and what I want may not even be possible. But I have to try. “If I wrote a letter telling them good-bye,” I say, “could you get it to them?”

Reyna snickers. “You are just like your cousin. I transport the pair of you across hundreds of years and rewrite history, and you think me unable to perform the simplest of tricks.” She shakes her head with a grin. “Yes, I think I can manage sending a letter.”

Mumbling to herself about skeptics, she reaches into the small dresser behind her and pulls out a piece of parchment and a pen. After sliding the materials onto the tabletop, Reyna says quietly, “I will give you a few minutes alone. If you need anything, just call.”

I watch her disappear into the dark. Then, holding the pen in my hand, I stare at the paper. I think about all the things I wish I could have told my family before I left, things I want them to know and remember about me, and as the words come for my final good-bye, salty tears splash on the thick paper.

Dear Mama, Father, and Cipriano,

I know my disappearance may come as a shock. But please know that I am stronger than I ever gave you reason to believe. It is because of your love and endless faith in me that I am now able to step out in faith, choosing a life filled with love, hope, and possibility. Do not doubt that I have loved every moment of my life, and a portion of my heart will forever remain behind with you.

I cannot explain where I am going. I cannot even tell you how you can reach me to reply to this letter. Just know that I am safe and that I am happy. Father, I am finally following my heart. It is my fervent prayer, if fate and Signore will it so, that we shall all meet again someday. Until then, know that I am forever thinking of you and missing you.

Your loving daughter and sister,

Alessandra

Postscript: Tell Lorenzo I shall miss my childhood friend, and that “Goddess Victoria” wishes him well. Also, tell him to continue painting…he has more admirers than he could ever dream.