The Portal

“It’s just a forest,” Cass assures me and Toby, leading us closer.  

She’s right. It looks pretty innocent-- just a bunch of skeleton trees identical to all the others around town and mounds of snow with layers of crunchy leaves beneath them. Toby takes in a deep breath and clenches his fists. I wrap my coat tighter. I can’t stand this December weather.

Cass grins at us mischievously, Toby shivers, and I smirk, trying to look calm even though I’m terrified. You’re not exactly supposed to go into the woods. Cass takes the first step in, crunching leaves. 

Toby and I follow. Twigs and small tree branches snap under my feet, along with more leaves. The wind whistles. Squirrels hop from branch to branch and across the ground, racing each other and gobbling acorns. 

Cass narrates sarcastically, “And the three kids embark on their journey into the unknown. They are unaware of the dangers they face. They are unaware that the evil wind-speaking demons of Windspeek, New York, will murder them in their sleep!”

“We’re not sleeping,” I comment, stepping over a rotting fallen tree. 

“Yeah, yeah Cass! We’re… not sleeping! We are in no danger at all.” Toby says, but he’s trembling. 

We make our way further, and the trees get thicker and animals scarcer. Toby suggests turning around, and I agree. But Cass urges us to go on. Minutes pass as we go deeper and deeper. I’m shivering down to my bones and my lips, ears, nose, and fingers are numb. 

Just as I’m about to make the “wind-speaking demons” jobs easier, we reach a building. Cass gasps. It looks like it hasn’t been touched in 50 years. It’s covered in snow and ivy and its stained-glass windows are cracked. A rotting wooden cross hangs over the slanted door. 

“Let’s turn around, guys…” Toby says, inching away backward. 

“Yeah. I agree. C’mon Amalia,” When Cass says my name, her voice quivers.

But something pulls me to this place. I don’t know why. Just the eeriness of it. Something is tugging in my chest. Like I have to go inside. It tugs more and more. A hunger. 

“Amalia, c’mon! You’re doing that staring-into-space thing again.” Her voice sounds a mile away. She laughs, but it comes out sounding forced. My chest gets that tug again. I step closer to the church’s entrance and the tugging increases. “AMALIA,” now she sounds panicked, but I still can’t keep my eyes away from those cracked stain-glass windows. It’s almost like I can hear the praying voices of the people who worshipped here long ago. Their voices get louder and louder, drowning out Cass’ pleas. “You’re doing that thing again. Why are you blanking out again? Amalia? AMALIA!”

Someone shakes my shoulders. I jump. But it’s just Cass. And her eyes are wider than full moons. Her mouth hangs open just slightly, then she bites her lip. 

I glance back at her, then run into the church. My chest explodes, gaining intensity the closer I get to the church.  

I might be having a heart attack; it’s like my heart is going to zoom out of my chest and stab me. The world blurs around me as I bolt into the church. Inside it’s deafeningly quiet. The floor is covered hips-deep in snow, and I have to wade through. A broken chandelier lays half-buried in the snow. Other than that, it’s hard to see many remains of a church, because things are either completely buried or so old that they aren’t recognizable. 

In the center of the room is a glowing blue orb. Almost like a portal. Unquestionably magic. I’ve never believed in magic for an instant, not even the Tooth Fairy as a little kid. Science is what I believe in, but science can’t explain this thing that must be a portal to some other world.

Maybe Cass and Toby rush in behind me but I hardly notice, so immersed in the glow of the orb. And before I know it, I’m two steps away from it. My chest sears and throbs and my heart is sprinting a marathon. Boom-boom-boom-boom. Closer to the portal with every beat. Every step. I can almost see water on the other side. 

I think I hear Cass and Toby shouting, but it doesn’t quite register. 

Because I’m an inch away from the portal. 

And now I’m halfway through. 

Darkness. 

Only my heartbeat. Boom-boom-boom-boom. 

And then. Water. I’m in a world of water. Why is it that I feel at home, not an ounce of fear? How am I breathing? 

This place is different than the ocean because it’s clearer and goes on forever. And, yes, I can breathe. It feels strange to do so, the water trickling down my lungs, but somehow it works. My clothes are not exactly wet, they just kind of flow around with me hardly noticing them. 

I swish around in the water and see the portal behind me. It looks identical to the one from the other side, and I can make out hints of snow through it. Cass springs out a second later, then Toby. They both puff up their cheeks, trying to hold their breaths. 

“It’s okay,” at first my speech comes out as bubbles, then gets clearer, “you can breathe here.” It’s funny how, unlike my friends, my instincts told me to breathe the second I got here. It feels like something I’ve done before, a million years ago. Like in a past life. 

Toby and Cass have no problems breathing either but seem weirded out by it. “Where are we?” Cass asks, treading water ferociously, even though it’s unnecessary because we just seem to be bobbing around. You’d think I’d be as panicked as Cass, but I’m not. This feels right, in some way. It’s what was meant to happen. 

“I-I have no idea,” Toby says, “but let’s swim further. Maybe other people are here. I mean, we have to agree that this isn’t an ocean, and it’s definitely nowhere that’s on earth. It’s like another dimension.”

The roles have switched between Cass and Toby— now Cass is the one that wants to turn around. “Shouldn’t we just go back through the portal? That must be the way out, right?”

“Ugh, but who cares about Windspeek! We’re in… we’re in Waterworld now!” Toby says.

“I’m sure it has a cooler name than that,” I say, flutter-kicking through the water and leading them into the unknown. Not a fear at all. 

——-

It doesn’t take long for us to run into other people. They look just like us, no mermaid tails or fish scales or green hair, but they seem to ripple through the water more naturally. The three of us have to maneuver our limbs awkwardly, but the people we pass simply glide. They don’t say anything to us, just moving through a regular day. They’ve separated into lanes almost like a street, but with no cars. Families and individuals swim by, chatting and scrolling through devices similar to phones. They’re even talking in English, not mermaid-dolphin speak. How are our worlds this similar? 

We cross through the people, attempting not to kick them. I accidentally make a small girl tumble over with a breaststroke kick. Her father pulls her away from me, eyes filled with disgust. “Kids,” he mutters. Finally, we make our way out of the streets and into a less crowded area. It seems like this place goes on forever. 

We reach a large Ferris wheel. It has rusting teal-colored metal seats creaking slowly around. No one is on the ride. A man stands in front of the Ferris wheel, leaning his leg against a poster that reads, “Ride the Northern Sector Siera Wheel! 5 FWR per ride.” Clearly, it’s not very popular. Plus, there aren’t any other rides around, which is strange. I swim towards it, thinking maybe this guy can give us information, and Cass and Toby follow. 

The man raises his eyebrows, a bit surprised that he has customers. “Good afternoon. 5 Free World Redonis now to ride the wheel. Finest ride in the Northern Sector.” He doesn’t sound very enthusiastic. His speech is slurred and his eyes, bloodshot, look like they’re about to shut. The few gray-white hairs he has left wisp through the water. But he smiles warmly. 

“Um, I’m sorry to bother you, but where are we?” I ask. 

“Northern Sector, Sieralagune. Where are you traveling to?”

“Um, we’re from Windspeek, New York? It’s a tiny upstate town that most people don’t know,” Cass says, “but are you, like, a merman?”

The man chuckles, “That’s funny. Actually, back when I was a kid, there were still a few merpeople left, though of course, they became extinct,” he sighs, “well, anyway, I’ve never heard of a place called Windspeek, New York. Which sector is it in? Here, I have a map.” 

He pulls out a map (somehow the paper isn’t crumbling) and I take it. It’s divided into four “sectors”-- North, South, East, and West, each with smaller areas. I spot Sieralagune, the biggest area in the Northern Sector. Of course, there’s no New York anywhere on this map. No United States. Somehow we’ve traveled worlds away. And on the top of the map, it says "WATERWORLD". I cough up bubbles and show it to Toby. He laughs. He was right about the name, somehow. 

“So, here’s the thing, and don’t freak out,” Cass says to the man, “but I don’t think we’re from this… this world. We came here through a portal.”

“You’re human? From Earth?” He shifts a step away from us, accidentally knocking down his sign. 

“Yes. How do you know about Earth?” I ask. 

“Well, I’ve never been there and I don’t know anyone who has, but its existence is quite common knowledge in Waterworld. But how did you get through a portal? They’re heavily protected and hidden. You would need a Pass Card, and I don’t think humans have them.”

“Like a passport? I’ve never traveled outside the country. I don’t have one,” I say. 

“Oh, I did once! We went to—”

“Cass,” Toby says, giving the man an apologetic look, “So, we need some sort of permission thing to travel between the worlds? Are we wanted then? Like, criminals?”

“Toby, don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure it’s not that big of a deal,” Cass says.

“Oh, I’m sorry to say, but this is. I could report you to the police, but I don’t wish to be the reason you kids are killed. We just need to find a way to get you safely back to Earth. Do you know which portal you came from?”

“It was in an abandoned church in these creepy woods,” Cass’ eyes widen, and she goes into storytelling mode, “We were exploring. Actually, it’s kind of my fault we were there. Toby and Amalia wanted to turn back, but I’m glad we didn’t, ‘cause this place is so cool.” 

“So, none of you have been to Waterworld before? But you need to be with a Waterwoldian, someone who has magical blood in them, to see the portal. Are you sure none of you are magical?” Insert cricket noises. Last time I checked I wasn’t levitating pencils. “You don’t have to be able to perform magic to have magical blood. You could be a novoyant. Though, if you were, it would complicate this matter further.”

“And what’s a novoyant?” Cass asks.

“Oh, of course. Why would you know? The disease is called Idle Novoyanti, and it’s when a baby is born with magic in their blood but without the ability to use it due to a brain malfunction. According to the law, novoyant babies must be abandoned into the human world through a portal. They can not stay in Waterworld.”

It’s hard to understand, but one word does stick out. Abandoned. According to the law, novoyant babies must be abandoned into the human world through a portal. One of you has magic in your blood. One of you was abandoned. “I think it’s me,” I say, dumbfounded, “I’m adopted and I never knew my real parents. Maybe they were from here?” 

“I probably know who they were! It’s usually something all over the news! ” the man claps his hands, excited, “Where were you found as a baby, and how many years ago?”

“New York City, 13 years.” I storm of adrenaline rises within me. 

He blinks. “Then you must be Neparisha Nali. Do you recognize that name?” 

“No.” 

“Well, why would you?” He stares at the sea ground, tapping his feet in thought, “But you must be the Nali girl. Listen, you have to get out of here.”

“What? What’s going on?” Cass asks, treading water with even more fury.

“Amalia is from this place?” Toby asks. 

“Yes. Now go. Go right now or I’m calling the police,” He’s suddenly stern, and my heart picks up its pace again. 

As Toby and Cass grab my arms and we start swimming away, he says, “I told you guys we shouldn’t have gone into the woods…”