Cadence's Worst/Best Day

Today quite possibly could have been the worst day of my life. I know I probably just seem like I'm being extreme, but I'm not. Everything that could have gone wrong did. What was it my Uncle John used say? Ah, yes. Murphy’s law: “Anything that can go wrong will.” Well Uncle John was right, well, at least for today anyway.

Now you’re probably wondering why today was so unbelievably dreadful. Well it started this morning when I went to take a shower and the hot water heater broke. I felt like an ice cube. Then I decided to try one of those healthy granola bars that Mom bought last week, because I didn’t feel like making breakfast for just myself. Since Mom had to leave for work early. And I had an allergic reaction to the granola bar. Then when I went to ride my bike to school the tire popped. At school I failed a test that cost me half my grade. I dropped my lasagna on my new—very expensive—shoes at lunch. (That I wouldn’t have been wearing at all if I could have found my other ones this morning) I sprained my ankle in PE. And then when I limped past my friend’s house—after having to take a detour because a bridge broke—I saw her kissing my crush in her front yard. And then when I thought that today couldn’t get any worse God or fate or whatever you believe in decided to make the clouds dump rain on me.

So now you’re all caught up. I’m standing in the rain trying to walk home with a sprained ankle and a broken heart.

And I don’t know why, but when I come to the street that I live on, instead of turning to go home I keep walking straight until I reach the tiny old library.

I open the door and am relieved to find that the air conditioning broke and it’s actually warm in here. The librarian looks up from the book she was reading—or doing something to—and eyes me. She’s an old woman with short white hair and grandma glasses. She’s very skinny and has long bony fingers. Her name is Elizabeth and she’s an old family friend and about a million years old.

“Cadence! Oh, your soaked. I’ll get you some paper towels. Wait here and careful not to drip on any of the books. Oh goodness.” Elizabeth hurries to get to a closet.

She moves surprisingly fast for her age—not that I know the exact number. Whenever I try to ask her she always says: “Magicians never real their tricks just as ladies never reveal their age.”

After I’ve blotted myself off with the paper towels and thanked Elizabeth, I head to the shelves with the good novels. As I slide out a book I worry about murphy’s law. Will I get a bunch of paper cuts in here? I push the thought aside and prepare to judge this book by its cover. Everyone says don’t judge a book by its cover, but it tends to work quite well for me. You can tell a lot about a book by its cover. For instance a book with an interesting title tends to be more amusing. If it’s by an author you like it will probably be good and that’s also information you get on the cover. The cover art will also probably reveal the genre and target audience. And those are just a few examples!

Anyway, I pull out the book and look at the cover. It’s blank. It’s just brown and old looking. No title. No picture. No author. No nothing. Interesting… I flip the book open to random page. It’s empty. Just old yellowed pages. Fascinating… How could this be a real book if it’s completely empty? It doesn’t even have the library stickers on the side. But how did it get here? Questions swirl inside my head. What if this is some kind of cursed book to make my day worse? Oh I wish that you, dear reader, could help me! But by the time you read this It’ll all be over anyway. Well, I'll just have to figure this out on my own.

I decide to ask Elizabeth—the librarian, just in case you forgot—if she knows anything about the book.

I showed her the book and told her how I found it and everything.

“I've never seen this book before. I've no idea how it got in here, but you can take it out if you like. I wouldn’t know why you would want to though.” Elizabeth says handing me the book back and winking at me.

Very weird.

“Okay. Thank you.” I say turning to leave.

“Um, Cadence, your library card please.”

“Right.” I dig in my wet pocket, but all I find is a mushy tissue.

Elizabeth looks at me expectantly.

I set my soaked backpack on the counter. “I think it’s in my backpack.”

I find all my text books and homework are wet. Oh, shoot! My teachers are going to have a fit. I find my library card in the outer pocket of my backpack and hand it to the librarian, who takes it in only two fingers and wipes it of with a tissue.

When I arrive home I shiver and turn on the heat. Then I set my wet books on the table to dry out and grab some yogurt from the fridge. (All I've eaten today was that granola bar for breakfast and I had an allergic reaction to it. Speaking of that, my face does feel a little bit itchy.)

After I throw the yogurt package out and take off my soaked (with water and lasagna) dress shoes—which was very painful considering I sprained my ankle and walked on it all the way home —I head to the bathroom to dry up and change my clothes. I want very much to take a shower right now, but the water heater had to brake today and Mom’s been too busy at work to hire a plumber.

I stand at the full length mirror and look at myself. I pitiful image I am sad to say. I know you can’t see me so I’ll tell you what I see. My shoulder, length brown hair plastered to my face in a very unattractive way. My t-shirt wet and, well looking like it gave up on living—not that it was alive in the first place, but you know what I mean. My eyes red from crying on my walk home from school. And a red rash on my cheeks. Normally I know I'm not pretty, if you had seen me yesterday you wouldn’t have thought I was pretty or anything, you might’ve even thought I was ugly. But that’s not even the point. The point is today I look very, very bad. And I feel much worse. My face itches and my ankle is throbbing so bad. I sit on the toilet so I don’t have to stand any longer. I dry my hair with a towel and comb it as well as I can. And I change into a comfortable outfit. Sweatpants and one of Mom’s old t-shirts.

I sit on my bed when I get to my room and try not to think of everything that’s happened today. I pick up the blank book I got from the library and am about to open it when my phone says “Bam!” In the voice of Austin Moon from the Disney channel show Austin & Ally. I know it might be a little bit childish. After all I just turned seventeen last week and Austin & Ally is a kid’s show, but it’s my favorite show. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I am very unpopular at school so it doesn’t really matter anyway.

Back to the point the “Bam!” means that someone texted me so I unlock my phone with my finger print—Mom doesn’t agree with the whole thing, she thinks it’s not a good idea to give out my finger print. But if I'm going to commit any crimes (which I'm not planning on, by the way, but you never know) I'll just wear gloves.

It’s a text from Mom.

MOM: I have to stay late for work. Won’t be home for dinner. You can order something if you want. You can use the $ from my purse.

I sigh. She had to go in early AND come back late. What bad luck!

I’ll order some food later, but right now I want to look at this book!

I pick up the book again and open it to the first page. And instead of being blank like I thought the entire book was, It has a little drawing of a flower on the blank page. I touch it with my fingers and suddenly a poof of dust or something shoots out of the book. I jump back and drop the book on the floor, startled. I suddenly realize that it’s not dust, but it's actually a person or something.

If you were here right now you would definitely be freaking out right now. But probably not as much as I'm freaking out. This is seriously not possible! But of course it's possible. It just happened! Right?

“Wow I need a nap!” The person says, stretching and yawning.

“Ummm…” Is all I can manage to say.

Who is this person? Is it a person? Where did she come from? Okay so she somehow came from the book. But how?

I stare at the woman with eyes almost as wide as my mouth is open. Are you seeing this right now? Right. Forgot your just reading a story. I guess I should probably describe what's happening right now. So anyway, It’s a woman, well actually maybe a girl not much older than me. She’s wearing an old fashioned dress and she has beautiful brown curls. She actually reminds me of how Mom looked in old pictures, the ones from right after she met my father. My hand forms a fist. I should probably mention how I get angry when I think about my father. He divorced Mom when I was ten. He said he didn’t love her anymore and I just think he met someone who was younger and “prettier”.

Okay maybe I got a little off track there. So the woman is maybe 18 to 20, I don’t know. There’s something so familiar about her face, but I know that I haven't seen her before.

“Do you mind if I borrow your bed?” The woman asks.

“Um, no. I mean yes. I mean no you can’t sleep in my bed.” I say, snapping out of it. “Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you get here?”

“Whoa someone’s cranky.” The woman says.

Suddenly my cheeks burn from anger. “Well I just had the worst day of my life. Look at my face! And I sprained my ankle too.”

“Chill out with the pity party Cadence.”

“How do you know my name?” I ask.

“Never mind that. I'll answer your questions. I’m your grandma. Your mother's mother. Oh that's still so strange to say. I don't even have any children yet, not to mention grandchildren. Anyway, I’m a time traveler. I come from the past. But I can only time travel when one of my descendants touches that there flower.” She takes my book off the bed and opens it to the first page. “It's quite complicated you see. But anyway, since you have been having a horrible day, lets make it better. After all, all of that stuff is in the past and we can only live in the present. Would you mind if I took a wee little nap first or I suppose a cup of coffee would do. Time travel really takes it out of you.”

My jaw is still hanging open. How can I believe that this woman is my grandma—who died before I was born, by the way—and that she time traveled? Would you believe her? Well I guess I have to, she did poof out of a book right in front of me.

“Why was the book in the library if it's magic?” I ask, making my way to the kitchen.

“Is Elizabeth Miller still the librarian?” The wom—my grandma asks.

I open the kitchen cupboard and pull out the can of coffee grounds. “Uh, yes why?”

“Elizabeth was my dear friend. I'm glad to know she lived longer than me.” She says sadly.

“How did you know.” I ask, pushing the on button for the coffee maker.

“I’ve traveled to the future before. It was when I was younger, your age I suppose. You’re mother was so upset after I passed, she found the book. It's hard. Being just a child, but comforting your daughter because of your own death.” A single tear rolls down her cheek.

I sit down at the table and hand Grandma a mug of coffee. “I'm sorry.”

“It's fine.” She says, but I know it’s not. “I came here for you dear. Now what do you want to do?”

I limp over to the window. It stopped raining. “Let’s just take it easy and read a book on the front porch.”

“I see you’re a book worm like me.” Says grandma.

And so I read a book on the front porch with my teenage grandma. I never thought I’d say that before!

After an hour of reading it starts to get chilly and I limp inside.

“Cadence I'm so glad I met you.” Grandma gives me a hug.

“Me too.” I say, setting my book on the kitchen counter.

Grandma grins. “Well maybe next time you can visit me in the future—” her eyes twinkle. “Or rather the past.”

I laugh. “Bye Grandma.”

“Say hello to your mother for me.” She asks, picking up the book and fingering the flower.

“I will.” I say, but Grandma has already turned into a puff of—I can’t think of a better word to describe it—dust and flies into the book.

Suddenly I hear the front door open. Mom.

Mom looks tired from her long day at work. And she has a cardboard box in her arms that she sets on the table. She has a silly smile on her face. Strange.

“I have a surprise!”

“What?” I say, dying from curiosity.

Mom’s mouth stretches into a mischievous smile. “I didn’t actually have to stay late for work. I adopted this kitten from the shelter.”

My eyes go wide. “What!”

Mom takes the tiny gray tabby kitten out of the box. “It was getting kind of lonely in this old house.”

Mom hands me the kitten. He is so soft and sweet. “What are we going to name him?”

“You can name him.” Mom says.

I smile stroking him on the head. “You’re such a good kitty Oliver.”

“Oh, I’ve always liked that name.” Mom says. “Have you eaten dinner?”

“No, but I had a cup of coffee with Grandma.” I say.

“What? Grandma?” Mom looks confused.

“It's a long story. I'll tell you in a minute.” I kiss Oliver on the top of his head. “But first letts order a pizza I’m starving.”

So I guess what I'm trying to tell you (the reader) is that no matter how bad it gets it will always get better eventually. Even if it seems like you’re totally doomed. Just keep going. Because—I can’t remember who said this—if you’re going through hell keep on going, why would you want to stop there? Just focus on the present and don’t dwell on the past, just learn from it and keep on going—have I said that enough? Plus it might help if you have a magical library book or a time traveling grandma. Just kidding about that last part.

So I guess this is goodbye. ;)

Acknowledgements:

Thank you to my brother, Tyler for helping me brainstorm ideas for the happy ending. (I'm not good at endings because I've started so many stories, but haven't finished very many)

Thank you to my Grandma for being a young soul.

Thank you to my librarian, Paula for being a wonderful librarian. She even kept giving me books after the virus shut down the library.

Thank you to my angel cat, Oliver, who unfortunately disappeared one day a year or so ago. He was a perfect little baby.

Thank you to my mother for always being there for me.

And thank you all for being awesome.

Peace out ;)