A Leap in Time Read Online Free Page B

Surprisingly, she was on her feet instantly, eager to prove that I had imagined the whole thing.
    Kate was still on the couch in the same position we left her. I didn’t need to tiptoe around her. This girl could sleep through a rocket ship blasting off. I called her name a few times while Charlotte nudged her arm.
    With both girls behind me, gaping at the magical painting, I inched closer, determined not to blink or run. Having Charlotte and Kate here lent reassurance and courage to face anything the painting could dish out.
    I leaned in the same way Mrs. Ashton had, my face inches from the painting. As it did every morning, the sky began shifting and changing whenever the sun dipped from around the clouds. There weren’t as many birds this morning. Or maybe their tweets were masked by the commotion coming up the road. Holy hell! And there they were, as real as if they stood in front of me, a caravan of men slumped on horseback, tired and dusty looking, dressed in brown togas and laced-up brown leather sandals. Others rode in carriages tied behind the horses, all making their way toward the city of Pompeii.
    I wondered if the people could see me. Would they think I’m a giant looking into their world? Years ago, I read Gulliver’s Travels for school and was awestruck by the idea of Gulliver stumbling upon a whole new world where he was a giant surrounded by a teeny tiny world. Impulsively, I reached my hand to touch the painting, curious about the feel of this fantasy world under my fingertips.
    I’d barely made contact with it when a slight current of an electric shock shot up my arm.
    Suddenly I was being sucked forward. Darkness all around. I fell. Down. Down.
    I don’t know how long I fell, but as these things inevitably happen, I came to an abrupt and jolting stop. The bright, unrelenting sunshine made me blink several times.
    What just happened? One minute I was standing in my living room in front of the painting and the next minute I was sitting in my pajamas beside a creek with my back braced against an Italian alder tree. I blinked repeatedly, as if blinking would somehow explain this. No. No explanation was needed. It was clear. Somehow, by some irrational, incomprehensible explanation, I’d morphed from my living room in Los Angeles to ancient Pompeii. Holy hell!
    I had become a subject in my own painting. My stomach flipped. I was doubled over within seconds vomiting everything from the night before and probably yesterday too. The after-effects left me physically drained and scared. Why did I have to touch that damn painting?
    I scanned my surroundings, making sure no one noticed my unexpected arrival. The last thing I needed right now was to be taken prisoner—in my pajamas no less. I could just imagine the spectacle that would surround that!
    The thought of being imprisoned here sent another wave of nausea through my body, doubling me over again. As I sat there, every gladiator movie raced through my mind along with every scene where a woman was whipped, beaten, or raped. Terrifying. Would someone mistake me for a runaway slave and punish me? Or worse, enslave me? Before my panic sent me reeling again, I lowered myself against the trunk. Despite my grim situation, I felt grateful for the shade and the trunk’s protection from the road. The cool breeze settled my queasiness.
    “Don’t panic, don’t panic.” The words came out of my mouth, but really, they provided no comfort at all. The only comfort I needed was to know that I was heading home immediately…and before I was discovered.
    This turn of events wasn’t what I had expected at all. The thought made me chuckle. What had I expected? That the ghost of the painter would fly around my apartment? Maybe, in the widest stretch of my imagination. But never did I think I would end up inside the portrait…in Pompeii, Italy.
    If this was a dream, it was a brilliant one because it was so vivid. I felt very present both emotionally and physically. I