A Game Most Foul, page 6
“Oh yeah,” I said quickly. “I’m just thinking I’ll have to come back here some day with my mom. She’s a librarian,” I added at Percy’s questioning look. “She’d really love it.”
“Our tour won’t begin for another half hour yet, but that gives us time to discuss the city we’ve just arrived in,” Professor Watson said, calling for our attention. “Shall we?”
I fell into step beside Suruthi and Ashley as we set off down the sidewalk, Professor Watson leading the way.
“It’s very Harry Potter-esque, isn’t it?” Ashley said, grinning. “More than Ashford’s dorms, I’ll tell you that much.”
I laughed. “A bit. I wonder how many bookstores we might be able to visit while we’re here.”
There was a continuous hum of conversation around us as we made our way to meet our tour guide at one of the smaller entrances to the university. Professor Watson was throwing out facts here and there along the way, but I wasn’t sure how much of it I was absorbing. I was taken with Oxford more than I’d been expecting. There was a different atmosphere here than in London, and I wanted to explore it more.
I was pretty sure I had a literal skip in my step by the time we reached a set of gates off the high street Professor Watson ushered us through.
There were only a handful of people milling around the small courtyard we entered, and a short man in a puffy red vest with thinning blond hair came striding over to us, hand outstretched as he greeted Professor Watson.
“It’s good to see you, John,” he said eagerly, shaking the professor’s hand. “It’s been too long.”
“And you, Joel,” Professor Watson said with a polite smile. “We appreciate the invitation to join you for a tour today. You’re too kind.”
Percy chuckled as the professor and his friend exchanged more pleasantries.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“Nothing,” Percy said. “It’s just . . . well, the professor’s first name is John.”
“Okay, so the professor’s first name is John,” I said. “Why’s that funny?”
“That makes his full name John Watson,” Percy explained. He actually looked a little affronted now when my confused expression only deepened. “And he used to be a doctor. So, Doctor John Watson. You know, like from Sherlock Holmes?”
“Oh.”
“It’s amusing,” Percy insisted. “Isn’t it?”
“I guess,” I said. “Sorry, but I’ve never read those stories.”
Percy’s jaw dropped. “Really? But you said you like mysteries! And you haven’t read Sherlock Holmes? They make up the backbone of the entire mystery genre!”
Okay, so I could see where Percy had a point. After the one time I’d tried to flip through a copy of Sherlock Holmes stories I’d uncovered in Adele’s shop, I hadn’t really been pulled into it.
“Well,” I said. “I guess I never really—”
A loud clearing of someone’s throat put a stop to our suddenly heated conversation, and we both looked around to find everyone staring at us.
Professor Watson looked unamused as he said, “Ready to join us, Miss Montgomery? Mister Byers? Or is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the group?”
“Yes, sorry,” I said quickly, my face flooding with heat. “We’re ready.”
“Our apologies,” Percy added sheepishly.
“Lover’s quarrel?” Suruthi muttered to us slyly.
“Shut up,” Percy and I snapped in unison.
Suruthi was still snickering to herself as Professor Watson beckoned us forward, and I very intentionally put a good deal of space between me and Percy, standing on Ashley’s other side. From what I could see out of the corner of my eye, Percy was just as hot under the collar as I was.
I almost slapped a hand to my forehead. I was here to focus on my writing and lose myself in a bunch of old books not a . . . whatever it was that Suruthi was imagining going on between me and Percy, which was nothing. A mutual enjoyment of typewriters, maybe, but that was it.
“Right then.” Our tour guide, Joel, clapped his hands together, calling us to attention. “I’m here to show you around one of the most impressive sights this university here has to offer, if you ask me. Now the Bodleian Library, or the Bod, as we call it . . .”
Joel, as it happened, was quite the enthusiastic tour guide as he began to show us around. His voice, on the other hand, was a little more difficult to understand with the way it was being thrown around against the courtyard’s high walls.
I did my best to focus on the facts and dates Joel was sharing, but my brain didn’t seem to really be comprehending much. I was itching to get inside the library. There had to be some spark or stroke of inspiration waiting to be discovered, and I was going to take full advantage of it if I could.
I was at least paying enough attention to get my legs moving and followed the rest of the group as Joel led us to the library’s main entrance. We passed through a set of double doors that I wanted to stop and run my fingers over when I saw several of Oxford colleges’ coats of arms artfully engraved into the wood.
That ended up putting me at the back of the group, right behind Willem. With the way Joel was quickly moving us along, firing off little tidbits of information left and right, I gave up trying to force my way to the front of the group to hear better. I could just as well enjoy the library without all the dates and facts.
And there really was a lot to enjoy about this library, with the stone walls and floors, the old furniture, not to mention the books . . .
It wasn’t difficult to imagine scholars and professors alike from hundreds of years ago exploring these halls. Odds were some of them had been aspiring writers too. Seeing as writer’s block didn’t discriminate, I was willing to bet they’d also suffered from it at times.
Chapter 8
Through the Wardrobe
I looked down at the takeout box Percy held out to me. “What is this?”
“Steak and kidney pie,” he said, shaking the box for emphasis. “Side of mashed peas.”
“What, like baby food?”
“Hardly, Jules. I promise you’ll enjoy it. C’mon,” Percy insisted. “If you’re going to be a tourist here, you’re obligated to have steak and kidney pie at least once.”
“Am I?” I said, struggling to keep down a laugh. “And here I thought I just flew across the pond to spend the summer writing.”
“Oh, live a little, would you?” Suruthi said, lounging beside me on the bench. She was helping herself to some chips she’d gotten from an indoor market after we’d left the Bodleian Library. She’d also been talking with her mouth full the entire time. “Next time Percy’s in America you can treat him to some greasy fast food or something. Fair’s fair.”
“Fine,” I said, accepting the box Percy was still holding out. “Should you ever find yourself in California, we’re going to In-N-Out.”
“Noted,” Percy said, offering me a fork.
I popped the top on the takeout box and tried not to examine what I was about to eat too closely. It smelled pretty good at least, so it couldn’t be that bad, could it? I stabbed some of the food with my fork and took a bite.
“Well?” Percy asked. “What do you think?”
I finished swallowing my bite of food before answering. “It’s . . . okay, it’s actually pretty good. I like it.”
“Hah!” Percy looked incredibly pleased with himself. “And now may I say: I told you so.”
Next I took a bite of the mashed peas and was pleased to find it tasted pretty good too.
Percy used his foot to nudge Suruthi over on the bench and he sat down, pulling out a lunch of his own.
It was pleasantly warm sitting outside on the bench, the sun peeking out through a thin layer of gray clouds, and the vibe of Oxford was infectious.
After the tour at the Bodleian had wrapped up, Professor Watson announced that we were being given the latter half of the day to explore what else Oxford had to offer on our own before he disappeared with Joel the tour guide.
It hadn’t taken long before Suruthi took charge and dragged us off to buy an early lunch. I was very much on board with this, seeing as my breakfast had consisted primarily of coffee.
Where the rest of our group had wandered off to, I wasn’t sure. The professor had been adamant that we be on the bus back to Ashford precisely at two o’clock, so they couldn’t have gone far.
“What d’you reckon?” Suruthi said as she polished off the last of her lunch. “Think we ought to get a little shopping in?”
“If by shopping you mean going to that place where I can find replacement ink for my pen, then yes,” Percy said.
They turned to me next, waiting for my response, and I struggled to finish chewing the last bite of my food without choking.
“I’m pretty much up for everything,” I said. “We could always—”
I stopped when I caught sight of Ashley striding down the sidewalk across the street. She was walking briskly, disposable cup in hand, earbuds in, and even at this distance I could see her face was set in a hard, determined expression.
“Oi! Where are you headed, Ashley?” Suruthi called over to her before I could do the same.
Ashley looked around at Suruthi’s voice, gave a wave, and she took a detour to jog across the street when there was a break in the traffic.
“Hi,” she said, breathless as she approached. “Sorry, I didn’t see you over here.”
“You look like you’re off somewhere,” Suruthi said. “Have you eaten yet?”
“Sort of. Peppermint tea,” Ashley said, gesturing toward her cup. “Still too afraid to eat after that bus ride.”
“Boo,” Suruthi said, frowning. “I think I saw a Boots somewhere nearby, if you wanted to pick up some antacids.”
“I’m fine, really,” Ashley assured her. “Just in case though I’ll find a barf bag for the trip back. No, I’m actually just wanting to go see the Narnia door before we leave.”
“The what now?” I said, confused.
“Oh, there’s this story out there that says C. S. Lewis discovered the inspiration for The Chronicles of Narnia from a set of doors here in Oxford that have carvings of lions on them,” Percy jumped in to explain. “There’s supposed to be a lamppost nearby too.”
Ashley nodded excitedly. “I read all the books with my grandma, growing up, so I wanted to see it in person. Take a picture back to her and all that.”
“Well, there’s no evidence to suggest that C. S. Lewis was even in Oxford at the time, so we don’t really know if—”
I jabbed an elbow into Percy’s side before he could finish his sentence, shooting him a dirty look. Why rain on Ashley’s parade like that when she was so clearly looking forward to it?
Percy thankfully took the hint and fell silent.
“Do you mind if I come with you?” I asked, looking back at Ashley. “My mom used to read me those books when I was little too.”
“Sure,” Ashley said, her smile widening. “The company would be nice.”
“Off you go then,” Suruthi said, giving me an energetic push to my feet. “Percy Bysshe and I are going to be on our way to the shops.”
Percy caught my wrist before I could get very far, tugging me back a step. When I gave him a questioning look, he said in a panicked voice, “You’re not going to leave me alone with her, are you?”
It took almost too much effort not to laugh. “You’ll be fine. You guys are best friends, aren’t you?”
“Up you get!” Suruthi said cheerfully and gave Percy a hearty shove off the bench. “We’ll see you both in a bit, yeah?”
I could still hear Percy’s loud protesting and Suruthi’s cackling even after Ashley and I rounded the corner onto the next street.
“The door shouldn’t be too far from here,” Ashley said as we walked, scrolling around a map on her phone. “Hopefully it won’t be too hard to find.”
“We’ll find it,” I assured her. “How hard could it be to find a door with lions carved on it?”
Exceptionally hard, it turned out.
Maybe flying across the Atlantic had made the both of us directionally challenged, but it took us over ten minutes to realize that we’d been walking away from the little red dot on the GPS screen Ashley had pulled up on her phone for reference.
“Crap,” she muttered, holding her phone up skyward. “I think I’ve lost reception. How’s yours looking?”
I checked back in with my own GPS. “Not good. Looks like we’re standing in a bunch of gray right now.”
Ashley’s scowl was something spectacular. “This shouldn’t be that hard! Last time I looked at the GPS, we were only a few streets over, I swear.”
“Well, maybe we should try to—”
I watched in awe as Ashley strode over to the first person she happened to lay eyes on, a man in a red shirt and gray exercise shorts, sitting atop a bike with his own phone out.
“Excuse me!”
The man looked up at Ashley, pulling out an earbud. “Yeah?”
She got straight to the point. “We’re trying to find the Narnia door. How do we get there?”
A minute later Ashley was headed back my way with an almost thunderous expression.
“We went in the complete opposite direction! We’re supposed to have gone that way.” She pointed at the street directly behind us. “Let’s go!”
Whatever directions the guy on the bike had given Ashley were thankfully not terrible. There were a few people gathered around the side of a building, cameras out and taking pictures, so I figured we were probably in the right place.
“Ah! There it is!” Ashley squealed happily as we approached what was definitely the door. “I feel like such a lame tourist, but I don’t even care. I’m going to enjoy this.”
If only I could be that self-confident, I thought wistfully.
“I like your style, Ashley James,” I said with a hint of admiration.
Ashley tossed me a wink over her shoulder and pulled her phone out again, waiting her turn for a closer look at the door. I followed suit and snapped a couple pictures of what I could see of the door, followed by some of the lamppost a few feet away.
“Now I can literally envision what C. S. Lewis must’ve seen out here in the dead of winter in the snow,” Ashley gushed, rocking back on her heels. “Can you see the carving of the lion up there?”
There was a very tall woman with long braids standing in front of me, blocking my view, so my answer was an unfortunate no.
When we finally did get close enough to the door to be able to see more of the intricate details carved into the wood, I was feeling a little giddy myself. It had been ages since the last time I’d read any C. S. Lewis, but this was like a trip down memory lane.
“Think it’s worth a video call?” I asked Ashley, checking the reception on my phone. “My mom would flip seeing this and just about everything else in Oxford.”
“Why not?” Ashley said, peeking at her own phone. “I’ll try giving my grandma a call too. Hopefully she’s awake.”
I pulled up my mom’s number and hit the little video call button. It took a minute before the call actually started to go through, and another minute or two before my mom’s face popped into view on the screen. Half of the picture was all pixelated, but I could make out enough to tell that my mom was already at work, despite it barely being six in the morning in California.
“Jules? Is everything alright?” Her voice came out warbly through the speakers. “I thought you—in Oxford—?”
“Yeah, I am in Oxford,” I said. “But listen, we’re at this place called the Narnia door and I wanted to show you.” I gave her an abridged version of the background info Percy had shared earlier as I tried to get a little closer to the door. “Apparently this is where C. S. Lewis—Mom? Hello?”
My mom was frozen on the screen, her mouth open as if she’d been caught mid-sentence. Ugh.
“Hello!” I sang loudly. “Mom? Mother? Janine! Can you hear me?”
“No reception again?” Ashley asked, and I looked around to see her glaring at her phone too. She was tapping her foot, biting into her lip. The unreliable phone service had obviously ruined her good mood.
“Looks like it,” I confirmed.
I probably looked like an idiot holding my phone away from me, then up, down, and side to side, but that usually ended up doing the trick, right?
My mom’s face remained frozen on the screen, and I groaned in frustration.
“You know what? I think I’ll just hang up and try again,” I said. “If anything, we can find a café or something that might have internet so we can try to . . .”
My voice trailed off into nothing when I looked up from my phone and Ashley was no longer standing in front of me.
“Hey, Ashley?”
I looked over my shoulder, but she wasn’t there either. The sidewalk was now strangely empty, and I seemed to be the only one left standing by the Narnia door—which I was positive hadn’t been the case thirty seconds ago.
“Ashley?” I said again, this time louder.
Nothing but silence.
I went to peek around the corner of the building, but only found a group of tourists all wearing matching red T-shirts.
Then I went to the other side of the building to look for any sign of Ashley, peeked down a nearby alleyway, and ended up making a full circle again before I realized I could’ve saved myself the trouble. I tried to call her instead.
The line rang a few times, but Ashley didn’t pick up on the other end. Instead of leaving a voicemail, I shot her a text:
hey, looks like we got separated. Where’d you end up?
I went over to a bench opposite the Narnia door and sat down, looking at my phone, waiting for Ashley’s reply. I would think she hadn’t gone very far. Granted, we both had been a little directionally challenged, but surely not enough to get completely lost.
When ten minutes had passed with still no response, I sent Ashley another text:
everything okay?
I was starting to get nervous. The reception around here hadn’t been bad enough to where Ashley couldn’t respond to a text message. Another five minutes of waiting and I decided to call again instead of texting.
