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The Jeweled Glove
“What is it?” Asked Autumn. Her long brown hair made a curtain around the faintly glowing object as she leaned over it.
“It looks like a glove.” I replied. I push Autumn’s hair aside to get a better look at the strange item. It was the weirdest glove I had ever seen.
The entire thing was covered in gold beads with blue and red jewels that glowed beautifully.
I looked at my friend with uncertainty. “We should leave it alone. It probably belongs to someone.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Come on, Cassie. The only people who come out here are joggers.”
I shrugged. “Maybe someone lost it while taking a run through the woods.” She gave me a pointed look and I folded my arms defensively. “It could happen.”
She snorted. “What kind of person takes a jog through the woods-in the middle of August-while wearing a jewel covered glove?”
She had a point. This summer has been especially hot and most joggers who run through these woods wear as little as possible to keep cool. A bulky glove like that would make you sweat until your hand was reduced to a puddle.
Autumn smiled mischievously. “I want to put it on.”
She reached down and gingerly picked up the glove. “It’s a lot softer than I thought it would be.”
She slipped the glove on her hand and held it up to admire it.
I brushed my hand across the smooth surface of one of the stones. “A little too gaudy for my taste, but it would be cute if you were going to a Renaissance party.”
She burst into giggles. “A Renaissance party?”
The ground under us began to shake. I grabbed onto Autumn’s arm for support and together we fell. We huddled together and covered our heads until the ground stopped shaking.
I stood and looked around, unable to process what I was seeing. We were no longer standing in the woods behind Autumn’s house. Stone walls surrounded us on all sides. We were in what appeared to be an old fashion kitchen. Really old fashion. All of the utensils and pots were made of iron. And the stove (if you can even call it that) was just a huge iron table sitting over an open fire. Strange music and the hum of voices came filtering in from the door in front of us.
Autumn walked over to the door and pushed it open just enough to see outside. “Uhh, Cassie? I think you should see this.”
My mouth dropped open as I peeked through the door and took in the beautiful view. It was a ballroom with white pillars circling the perimeter of the room, a huge candlelit chandelier hung from the ceiling and mosaics of angels on the ceiling and walls. The room was overflowing with people dressed in elaborate clothing covered in jewels and made of silk, brocade, velvet and cotton. My eyes couldn’t take it in fast enough. The puffy sleeves, lace, corsets and flowing dresses made me feel like I was in a fairytale.
I began to panic after my initial shock wore off. “What the heck is going on here?”
Autumn kept her eyes trained on the people outside the door as she addressed me. “I think we are at an actual Renaissance party, like, during the Renaissance period.”
I looked at her, dumbfounded.
She tore her eyes away from the ballroom and looked at me. “When I put the glove on I said, ‘Renaissance party’, remember? That is why we are here. I said a location and the glove took us there.” She waved her gloved hand in front of my face. “This glove is a time machine.”
At that moment a sullen looking servant came in and blanched when she saw us.
“Intruso! Fuori!” The maid screamed.
I quickly turned to Autumn. “You took Italian last year, what did she say?”
“She wants us out.”
I held my hands up in a show of surrender. “We don’t want trouble, but we could use some help. Do you speak English?”
The servant looked at us in disgust, then grabbed a pot and shook it at us.
“Lasciare!”
I sighed. “I guess that is a no.”
The servant came at us, swinging her pot wildly.
Autumn grabbed my arm. “Home!”
Immediately the earthquake sensation we felt before returned and the sound of the screaming servant disappeared.
A quick survey of our surroundings showed that we were in Autumn’s bedroom. I had never been so happy to see her obnoxiously pink walls.
For a second we just stood there smiling at each other.
I broke the silence first. “That was amazing!”
Autumn took off the glove and sat it on her bubblegum pink comforter. “I think we should hide the glove, just imagine what could happen if the wrong person got their hands on it and decided to change history. That could be bad.”
I nodded. “Agreed.”
We took the glove deep into the woods, far from any jogging paths. I took my shovel and started digging a hole.
“Cassie, wait. Let’s take one more trip.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you really think that is such a good idea? We already terrorized that servant with our blue jeans and bare arms, the poor thing was probably scarred for live.”
“Then lets go somewhere where girls are allowed to wear something other than dresses. What about somewhere in the sixties? You have always been obsessed with John Lennon. We can go to a Beatles concert. It will be fun!”
I smiled devilishly. “You had me at John Lennon.”
I grab onto Autumn’s arm as she slips on the glove. “Shea Stadium 1965. Beatles concert.”
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