I thought about her the entire time I drove to the festival. Even though I’d had to give her an ultimatum, I hoped that she would do the right thing on her own by not prolonging this. I wasn’t filled in on all the details, but her situation wasn’t good. It was lose-lose either way if they didn’t say goodbye.
I decided to push the situation to the side, at least for a little while, and concentrate on meeting Ben. My anxiety level was at an all-time high, thinking about what he could potentially tell me about the missing time no one would talk about with me.
It was like nothing had happened when I knew,just knew, it had. Or why else would I be searching for the memories this hard? It felt like my heart was leading the search party on finding the lost ones.
Another mystery was why Ben had chosen to invite me to this overly crowded festival.
The parking lot seemed filled to capacity, and people were heading to the entrance in droves. Even from this far away, the entire scene loomed. The many different sections, the massive center stage, and the towering mountains in the distance. He’d told me to wear something casual, something I didn’t mind getting ruined. When I’d told Cilla the name of the festival when we first left, she had told me that people from all over the world attended. It had a loyal following. At the end of it, I’d be plastered with glow-in-the-dark body paint.
I’d never done anything like this, wasn’t sure if I was even going to like it, but it was worth it if I could find out a few things from Ben that no one else would tell me. He was Richard’s brother. He had to know something.
After a few rounds of circling in the car, I found a spot and parked. I grabbed my tote bag from the back seat, making sure I had everything—a light cardigan (even though May was warmer, it could still get chilly at night), my cellphone, wallet, lipstick, sunglasses, and pepper spray. Then I flipped the mirror in the car and made sure my high ponytail was still in place. It was, but I almost groaned at the steady stream of people walking behind my car.
How were we going to have a serious talk here?
It was too late to be irritated with myself for not suggesting a better place, so I forced myself out of the car, setting my sunglasses over my eyes. Four guys were passing as I did.
One of them whistled. Not at me, but at my car. “Tesla Roadster?” he asked. He slid a finger along the pearl white paint, checking out the black rims and dark tinted windows. The guys he was with surrounded it, all checking it out, too.
“Yeah,” I said, already heading away from them. People commented on my car all the time. It was a fine piece of machinery, but I was already late to meet Ben. He told me to meet him by the gigantic apple tree. Whatever that meant. I hoped I could find it.
Weaving in with the crowd, I followed the trail that led to the main entrance of the festival. It took me about five minutes to reach it, but once I did, I found the gigantic apple tree right away, stopping in my tracks, steady streams going around me like ants.
The entire field looked like it had been transformed into an exaggerated storybook come alive. The apple tree looked like a goddess with humongous eyes and branches as hair. Red and orange mushrooms, bigger than me, sprouted around her. Beyond the entrance, different sections of the field were set up the same way. Some had more stages with exaggerated characters, others had food vendors, and some had rides.
The center stage took up the biggest chunk of the field and resembled something mechanical with gears, flames, and pipes. Maybe it was a music box? Humongous screens were placed in different spots to give better visibility to the crowd.
Some people already had tickets, it seemed, because they were given armbands right away, and others stood in line for theirs. Everyone was offered a fresh apple from the tree, even though it was fake.
Maybe entering the festival was like biting the forbidden fruit.
“Rosalia!”
I looked away from the festival and in the direction of the voice. Ben waited closer to the tree, closer to the entrance, and I waved at him, making my way over.
“Hey,” I said when I reached him. He was dressed casual too, in a white t-shirt and chino pants.
“Hey.” He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “You look like you’re ready to have some fun.”
He took my wrist and secured my purple and blue wrist band. We fell into step, into line, and I shook my head at his comment.
“To be honest, I’ve never done anything like this. It’s not my usual scene.”
“Do you want to go?” He turned to look back, but I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “Let’s check it out.”
“Good.” He smiled at me, then handed me his apple. “This festival has been around for a while. It was never this elaborate when Richie and I would go. It’s grown over the years, but the quality of music has always stayed the same.”
“Richie,” I said. “You mean—”
“Richard,” he said. “That’s what we called him.”
“Oh.”
We became silent, and to give us both a minute, I looked around. I felt so small in comparison to all the massive stages and props. And I could already see what it was going to be in the dark. It was going to glow with all the neon lights. I guessed we would, too, if what Cilla told me about the paint was true.
A cool breeze passed, and I inhaled. Popcorn, cotton candy, candy apples, and a bunch of different fried things lingered in the air. I took a bite of my apple when my stomach growled so loudly that not even all the noise around us could drown it out.
