The Dangerous Doors of Shannon Anderson

Chapter Twenty Nine

I never made it back to Amsterdam to say a proper good-bye to Dr. Van Helsing. For all intents and purposes, the doors had stopped appearing, and on the rare occasion that they did materialize, they were often locked. By the end of the summer, I had more or less stopped trying because I was busy preparing to repeat my senior year at the public high school. That was a whole new adventure unto itself.

Just before dusk on a late August evening, I sat on the swing set of our elementary school playground with Jessa and Tucker. It was Jessa's last night at home, and yet we were talking about me.

"Public school, eh?" Tucker said, turning in circle in his seat so that the swing chains twisted together tight. He lifted his feet off the ground and spiraled back wildly in the opposite direction, just like he'd loved to do when we were seven. And now we – he – was off to college. Jesus, I felt like a parent doing that cliché reminiscing thing. Why, it seems like just yesterday I was bringing my little Johnny home from the hospital, and now he's off to play in the MLB and make more money every time he takes a step than most people make in a month!

"Public school," I said, nodding.

"Why?" Jessa asked as she swung higher and higher on my other side, her flowy pink skirt fluttering delicately as she cut through the sticky summer air. She was graceful even on playground equipment.

I shrugged. "I could have gone back to St. Rita's. They would have let me, I mean. But what's the point without you guys there? I'd rather just start over fresh – lay low for a year where no one is going to ask me penetrating questions. No one will even have to know that I'm a super senior."

"Fair enough," Jessa called from the peak of her trajectory.

"So," Tucker said, still spinning, not making eye contact with me. "It'll be a little while before we see you again. Do you think maybe you can tell us what really happened when you missed all your tests? We're your besties, Shan, it's not like we're going to tell anyone."

"God, Tucker, you sound like my therapist."

"Sorry."

"Whatever," I said. "It's fine. I just made a very impulsive decision is all. The night before our AP US History final I was thinking about that field trip we took to Des Moines in eighth grade, and how we visited the State Law Library and it was the most goddamn beautiful building I had ever been in, and I was just overcome with this sudden desire to be there. To be someplace old and beautiful and full of books. You remember what that place is like. It's like a different world – a different time. What better place to study US history? And I felt so restless. So I took Dad's car and I drove."

Tucker had stopped spinning and Jessa had stopped swinging, their attention fully tuned into my story.

"Well, it was the middle of the night, so of course when I got there it was closed. I slept in the car and set my phone alarm for first thing in the morning so that I could at least go inside and be awestruck for a few minutes before having to turn around and come back here for the test. But my phone died in the middle of the night and my alarm never went off and by the time I woke up I had already missed the history exam and I was going to need to haul ass back to St. Rita's if I was going to have any hope of making it in time for drama.

"As you may have noticed, I didn't make it. I took a wrong exit on the way back and got all turned around, and I ran out of gas before I could make it back to a major highway. I just sat there for a long time before I got brave enough to go look for a house to ask for help, but you know what it's like between here and Des Moines. I had to walk a long way, and when I finally found a house, I was pretty worried that whoever lived there would just as soon chop me up into little pieces and spread me in their fields to fertilize the corn as they would let me use their phone. But what else could I do? So I knocked."

"Hold on," Jessa said. "First off, you're an idiot. Why on earth would you leave for Des Moines in the middle of the night just a few hours before an exam? Didn't you check the library hours before you left? Didn't you think it would be closed?"

I had to choke back my laughter. For as brilliant as Jessa was, her logic sometimes got in the way of her common sense.

"Second," she said, "if you took your dad's car, I presume he would have noticed fairly early the next morning that you and the car were missing. Knowing your dad, he would have tried calling you, and when that failed, I'm sure he wouldn't have hesitated to contact the police. By then every trooper in the state should have been keeping an eye out for your dad's plates.

"And finally, why didn't you just go to a gas station as soon as you noticed your gas was low? Doesn't your car beep at you when you have thirty miles left or whatever? You could have asked for directions there. Also, pay phones exist. There probably would have been one at the gas station."

Tucker smirked. "She's bullshitting us, Jessa. None of this happened."

I laughed. He knew me too well. "I guess I should have stuck with the more plausible 'trapped in an island jungle hurricane' story," I said, smiling, before I remembered that he was moving to Iowa City in a few days to leave me alone to rot in these cornfields. My heart hurt. "What if NYU doesn't take me back?" I said.

"Tisch can be a cruel mistress," Tucker answered. "And I speak from experience. You'll recall the fateful mid-February Day of Rejection just this winter past?"

Jessa and I both nodded. There had been a lot of crying and swearing and persuading Tucker that his future as an actor was not dead on arrival after he'd gotten a letter from NYU saying he hadn't made the cut.

"But you, Shannon Anderson, are irresistible. Tisch is already regretting their rash decision to break-up, and eagerly counting down the days until you call again and they have the privilege of reviewing your portfolio a second time. It will be a welcome advance amidst a sea of less worthy suitors. You are their perfect match."

"And that is a fact," Jessa said with a sharp nod.

"Thanks, guys," I said, my heart hurting in a different way now. "I hope you're right."

"Shannon, I am Iowa's premier future professional ballerina slash astrophysicist," said Jessa. "Of course I am right."

A/N:  Only one chapter to go!  Check back next week for the conclusion of Shannon's story, and if you've made it this far, you have my sincerest thanks.  :)