Lost in Camelot

Two

The moment for my trips arrives, and Mom drives me to the airport. Ana insisted on coming with us. The entire ride I glance at the rearview mirror to see Ana's face. It's just for a week, I remind myself. When she notices me watching, she sticks out her tongue and crosses her eyes. That's my brave girl.

But after I check my bag, and we walk together to customs, she clings to my leg and won't let go. I drop to my knees and plant a soft kiss on her cheek. Holding her face between my hands, I say, "Remember," I hug her tight and whisper in her ear, "you're stuck with me, for good."

I pull away to memorize her features before I go. Her long chestnut hair cascades all the way to her rib cage. Her white T-shirt accentuates her golden tan. When I look into her brown eyes, I see a younger version of myself staring back. We are so much alike, apart from her round nose. She got it from Dad, while I inherited Mom's long one. Giving her a last hug, I rise and turn to my mom.

"Are you sure you'll be fine without me?" I ask.

She places her hands on her hips. "Positive. I'm an adult, remember?"

"I know. But—"

"But nothing." She catches me in a tight embrace and murmurs into my ear, "Go find yourself, then come back to us."

I wrap my arms around her, sucking in a long breath. When I let go, she nods at me to keep moving. I wave good-bye and don't look back.

The entire flight I think about what I've just left behind. Eventually, I drift off to sleep, only to surface when the captain announces we are descending on Wales. I stretch, untying the knot that formed on my neck. The cabin's lights turn on, and the flight attendant's voice bursts through the speakerphone ordering us to return our seats to position. My skin begins tingling, just like it did last night when the drawing moved. No matter what I do, it won't stop.

The cabin's lights flicker as the plane drops a few feet in the air. Everyone gasps, but above the general fear, I hear a voice calling me, "Olivia." Please, not again. I shut my eyes, but the airplane steadies and the captain apologizes, explaining we encountered a mild turbulence. The tingle ceases, and I release the breath I didn't notice I was holding.

As the flight descends, the first thing I observe about Wales is how green it is. The green here seems darker, richer, more ancient than the mountain forests around Rio. Cottages and castles dot the landscape.

Going through immigration and picking up my bag lasts about two hours. But when I step out, I search for the tour representative who was supposed to pick me up. Standing a few feet to the left, a handsome man, maybe in his early twenties, with sandy hair and freckled face, holds a sign with my name. Dragging my bag behind me, I approach him.

I clear my throat. "Hi, I'm Olivia Costa."

"I'm Peter and I will be accompanying you through your trip," he says.

Peter leads me outside in the direction of a parked white van, where a few people gather in front. Since almost everyone is accompanied by a spouse or family member, I'm left to sit at the back of the van, known as the worst seat. Once everyone is inside, we take off through the streets, my excitement rising again. Newport, even with the tourists, is downright peaceful compared to the crowded streets of my hometown. Time seems to be moving slowly as people greet each other when they pass by. Everything is so clean and tidy. Not even a cigarette but pollutes the sidewalk.

We head to Caerleon Castle where the exhibit is. Since my arrival was early in the morning, we will visit the exhibit first then check in at the hotel later. I prefer it this way. The longer it takes to arrive, the more anxious I get, and I'm quite sure the old lady sitting in front of me is annoyed by my tapping foot. Growing up, I devoured the legends of King Arthur and Camelot. I know all the different versions, and like my dad, I treasure them. This will be like having a piece of him back.