Little Women and Me - By Lauren Baratz-Logsted Page 0,6
…
“Really, Emily,” Meg said sternly.
My eyes snapped open again. I was myself and not myself, and not only could I hear these four girls talking to one another, but they were talking to me too, even using my name. This was some dream!
And if I could see and hear them, then maybe they could hear me too?
I opened my mouth to speak, not taking the time first to think of what to say. What came out was:
“What year is this?”
“It’s 1861,” Amy said with a smirk, then for good measure she rolled her eyes.
1861? Wow. Radical.
“If I ever asked a question like that,” Amy continued, “Jo’d tease me forever.”
I ignored her.
“And how old am I?”
“You’re fourteen, you goose,” Jo said, adding in an exasperated singsong, “and Meg is sixteen, I am fifteen, Beth is thirteen, and Amy is twelve.”
“And that makes me …,” I started to say.
“The middle sister”—Jo’s tone remained exasperated—“just like you’ve always been. Now do try to stop being so silly, if you possibly can. We’re trying to figure out what we shall each get for Marmee.”
I must have looked confused, because Beth piped up in a nice way, “You know, Emily, how we decided it wouldn’t be right to spend money on our own pleasures when the men are in the army? So we decided instead to take the dollar each of us has received and spend it instead on Marmee?”
“And now,” Jo said pointedly to me, “we are wondering what you plan to get her.”
Was she for real? No, of course she wasn’t. She was just a dream, which was why I burst out laughing and then said, “What can you possibly buy someone for just one dollar?”
Now it was the four others’ turn to look puzzled as they stared at me for a long moment.
Meg finally spoke. “Actually, you can get quite a lot. I plan on buying Marmee gloves when we all go shopping tomorrow.”
“I had been planning on buying myself a new book,” Jo said, adding with an insane level of seriousness, “but now I am going to buy Marmee army shoes.”
“I was going to buy myself some music,” Beth said, “but I’ll be much happier getting her handkerchiefs, and I even plan to embroider her name onto them.”
“I had so wanted some drawing pencils,” sighed Amy. “But I suppose now I shall get her cologne. Although if I get only a smallish bottle—”
“What about you?” Jo cut Amy off as she turned to me. “What shall you buy for Marmee with your dollar when we go shopping tomorrow?”
They’d just listed four things they apparently thought they could buy for a buck each, but how should I know what you could buy in the stores around here? Besides, I wouldn’t even be here tomorrow. I’d be awake, since this was all a dream!
“I don’t know what I shall get,” I answered. Did they have any dollar stores around here?
Wait a second, I thought. I just said shall. It was so weird, like being around Brazilian people and suddenly thinking I could understand Portuguese!
Whatever, I told myself. Just go with it, Emily. You’ll be out of here soon enough.
“I don’t know,” I repeated, feeling the others stare at me. “I guess I’ll just get her one of those things like the things you all are going to get her.”
Meg felt my forehead. “Are you feeling unwell?”
“Emily is behaving peculiarly,” Jo said, adding wryly, “even for her.”
“I’m fine.” I waved Meg’s hand away. “It’s just that sometimes things get … confusing around here.”
Confusing? Ha! I had no idea what was going on! Maybe I’d been kidnapped and brought to some historical re-creationist cult run by those old dudes who like to put on war uniforms from World War II or the Civil War?
“I don’t under—” Meg started to say, but Jo cut her off.
“Didn’t you hear her say she’s fine? Besides, we really should practice the play I wrote for Christmas before Marmee comes home. We don’t want to spoil the surprise by having her see it before we’re ready.”
“Yes, of course,” Meg agreed. “But perhaps Emily should just observe while we rehearse? She really doesn’t seem herself.”
“Fine,” Jo grumbled.
It was a good thing Meg had given me an out. I was having a hard-enough time keeping up with all the conversations in this confusingly elaborate dream—because that’s what I decided this had to be—and it would have been impossible to rehearse for a play I knew nothing about.