The Compass Wars

Chapter Five- Auditions on the 27th

By the time Monday the 27th rolls around, Cassie and I have perfected our act. The amazingly fabulous, creative, unique, PERFECT plan is that when Vermina goes (the parent/guardian goes in first and talk a bit, followed by the child) we wait, and when it's our turn, we come in all dazzling and hands-down astonishing.

We wake up well rested, though Cassie says she had been anxious for hours into the night. We get ready. I put on my ironed black dress pants and a tux shirt with a belt and shiny black shoes. Ugh. I look like someone from the band at our school. I stiffly waddle out into the shop.

Now, before I say anything else, I should probably note that I have never seen Cassie in a dress....period!

But there she is, standing with her back to me in a flowing, shimmery, pale blue gown. The tanktop length sleeves connects to a straight trim of glimmering silk down to her ankles. It is beautiful.

"Nice....outfit, Cassie," I mutter, astonished.

"Thanks. You look nice in your tux," she replies casually.

"It's called formal attire. Not a tux," I retort, and she looks at me in surprise.

"Okay okay! I give you a compliment for once and you go and correct me. You're such a nice brother."

I stick out my tongue at her. She rolls her eyes. Just then, Vermina marches in. With her stiff gray slacks, white button-down shirt and brisk manner, she is the picture of the business woman she is really the opposite of.

"Chop chop, people! Let's get this show on the road!" Cassie and I glance at each other, then shrug and follow Vermina out the door.

I have never ridden anywhere with Vermina, at least not on any of her flying vehicles. Her dumpy old truck is from the year 2012, not exactly current, considering this year is 2891. That's the only thing of hers I've ridden in, and she is a pretty horrible driver. She honks every fifteen seconds at pedestrians and even at hovercrafts flying above her. Hopefully she flies better than she drives.

We go up the stairs at the end of The Market, and through the "Employee Only" door, and we end up on the roof, which I didn't even know exists.

We are led by Vermina to the far North side. I see a sign that reads "VERMINA'S HAT SHOPPE- EMPLOYEES ONLY" in front of a parking spot with two hoverchairs and a small open-air plane. Vermina turns to us.

"You two can pilot the chairs. There is a joystick on the arm of it. I'll take the plane.

I've never piloted a hoverchair before. I've heard all kinds of stories where the user fell out of the hovercraft. I mean, apparently the President fell out of his hoverbed. Hoverbeds are beds that rich people go to early meetings if they're lazy. Lucky!

I cautiously slide into the bright, white, smooth bowl of a seat. I find a soft, leathery seatbelt that buckles me in so I can't fall out. Whew! I strap myself in and finger the joystick and start and stop buttons. Before I know it, Vermina is up in the air, yelling down at us.

"Press the GO button. No Cassie, the green one! Yeah! That's it, now follow me!"

Suddenly I am being pulled up, and am a good thirty feet off of the roof. Vermina was already speeding ahead, so I push my joystick forward and my chair zooms after her. The city flashes by at least a hundred feet below me. It is a wonderful feeling being this high up in the air. I love it.

We slowly drop down onto the parking lot on the roof of the Century House, one of the main government buildings here. I press the stop button, unbuckle my seatbelt and hop causally out of my hoverchair. Vermina sticks orange stickers on ours, so we can distinguish them from the other people's hovercrafts.

We descend the flight of stairs to the third of twenty floors, before we come to the door marked "YPS," standing for "Young People's Say."

Vermina sighs, then tells us, "Best behavior." She does the "I'm watching you" eye-to-eye gesture, then we go in.

Behind the heavy white door is a sort of waiting room with squishy-looking couches and armchairs. They are patterned in rainbow floral print, and as I sit down on one, the half I am on sinks halfway to the floor. Cassie sits down on the other end, but nothing happens. This will not work. I casually and quietly pick up a rainbow floral pillow next to me and sit on top of it. Then I sit on another...and another...until four cushions are piled up under me. Despite this, I am still not yet at Cassie's height.

Finally, Vermina is called in. She leaves, but tells us to wait by the door and listen to what they are saying.

"Okay?" I responded, not sure why she would want us to. I put my ear to the door and listen as she and the unknown interviewer go back and forth, until he says, "Ok. She can come in now."

Then Vermina says, "She? Oh, but I'm not done! There's two. They're twins!"

"Twins? Two? I am sorry but they cannot audition together. Must be on seperate days. Yes, it must be."

"But they are both here! They need to do it together."

Cassie looks at me with concern written all over her face.

"They won't let us do it together? Leo, we've got to do something!"

"Ummmm...we could go in and protest. Do a stunning act to sway them?"

"Yes! I don't know! Let's do it!"

Just as the interviewer finishes saying, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I've told you, they can't audition together," we burst in. We match each other's pace, looking sharp, and more like twins than we ever have before. We put stunning smiles on our faces, and march right up to the interviewer, who turns out to be a tall, broad, middle-aged man. He stops mid-sentence and says, "Actually...I believe we can make an exception."

•••••••••••

"OH MY GOSH, I can't believe we actually got the job! When do we start?" screams Cassie.

"Yes, I know. So very exciting. You begin next Monday. Seven days," says Vermina.

"What's wrong, Leo? You don't want the job?" asks Cassie, as I stare absentmindedly out into space.

"No, it's just that I didn't think we'd actually get the job, so I wasn't ready."

"Oh," says Cassie, who is lost for words, and just generally talked-out.

Later, we are back on the Market roof, landing our hovercraft. We unbuckle, step down, and head back to the shop. The last seven days here. I never thought I'd come to miss this place.