The Ice Palace was not, as Rosie thought it would be, made of ice. The tour guide explained that before they’d even pulled into the coach-park. The guide had dry lips that stuck together, adding extra sounds to words, which was funny for about like five minutes. ‘The name-pa of the palace refers-pa to the freezing of the fountains in the-pa sumptuous grounds the year the palace was-pa built, in blah blah-pa blah.’ Rosie switched off, took Nancy Drew out of her bag.
Nancy Drew was about to solve the case of the tapping heels when Rosie’s Mom brushed her fingers through her hair and said “Hey ho, Blossom.” Mom reminded Rosie to behave. Behaving meant putting Nancy back in the bag and pretending to pay attention and making the right noises at the right times. Rosie knew the drill.
Darrel, Mom’s new boyfriend, was at the Palace gates already, waiting for them. Correction – waiting for one of them. It was apparent from his face, unsuccessfully camouflaged, that neither he nor Rosie understood the purpose of her inclusion in today’s tour.
“What a bummer, hey?” said Darrel. “I thought it was gonna be made of real ice.”
Mom laughed, which was annoying. Darrel hadn’t even said anything funny.
“No,” said Rosie. “It’s named for the freezing of the fountains in 1864. The owners of the palace were so enchanted by the sight of the crystal icy water that they commemorated it in the naming of the palace.”
“Blossom,” warned Mom. Quoting the guide was not behaving.
“Well, I feel like I’ve learned something already” said Darrel. He head-nodded at the group gathered by the side of the bus around the guide, who was stressing the importance of being back at the bus at twelve sharp. “Shall we join them?”
“Mom, do you think they would leave without us if we came back at twelve oh five?”
“Definitely,” said Mom. “Now behave. I’ve already asked you nicely.”
Rosie sighed. Darrel made a face, trying to bond with her. So tiresome. The guide started walking towards the palace gate ticket counters and Mom led the way behind him, one hand pulling Rosie, the other pulling Darrel. Rosie wandered why Darrel hadn’t brought tickets already, while he was waiting for them to arrive, but she didn’t say anything. She was being a good Blossom. When everyone was ticketed up the guide took them under the arched entranceway and across an eternal gravel driveway into the palace’s grand hall.
The guide drew his group’s attention to a big table in a room protected by a red rope. “This table,” he said, “was blah blah blah-pa blah.” Darrel noticed the guide’s speech impediment for the first time and started making fun of it. Quietly, just to Rosie and Mom. Mom laughed, and somebody nearby must have overheard because they laughed a little bit too. Darrel took his joke to a larger circle of the guided tourists, and finally, encouraged by the odd furtive giggle, to the tour guide’s face. “Is this all pa-part and pa-parcel of the proper-pa pa-palace-pa tour?” Rosie thought it was mean, but Mom laughed, so Rosie laughed too. The tour guide didn’t look very happy, and nor did some of the guided tourists.
“It’s funny,” said Rosie to Darrel, “because he has a speech impediment.” Luckily for Blossom, Darrel didn’t recognise biting sarcasm.
Rosie tried to send apologies to the tour guide with the power of her mind. Darrel was a douche and Mom was simpering. Why did Rosie have to be here again? Nancy Drew wouldn’t have agreed to this. But Rosie weren’t no Nancy Drew. She switched off.
Since Mom and Dad’s separation, Rosie had discovered the gift of autopilot. It came in handy in all kinds of situations. Ten minutes passed, or maybe an hour, or maybe two. Under autopilot, Rosie wasn’t sure. They could’ve been through ten grand palace rooms or a hundred. Darrel could’ve said one more stupid thing or a thousand. Mom could’ve laughed at all his dumb jokes or just some of them. Rosie, blissfully, didn’t know. She didn’t know, either, when they’d made it into the garden, but she ‘woke up’ when she realised they were standing in front of the fountain that had frozen a hundred and fifty years ago. The fountain had given the palace its name. It had to be something worth looking at.
Hmm. It wasn’t amazing. It was okay, but nothing special. So-so. She’d seen better in the mall. But it was interesting that something so insignificant could turn into something so beautiful that the entire building was named after it. Rosie switched herself all the way back on – she wanted to hear what the tour guide had to pa-say about this. But the tour guide was already moving on to a rose garden down the way.
Having been in zombie-mode for the last ten minutes question mark hour question mark two, Rosie had turned invisible. The guide went to the garden. The tour group went to the garden. Mom and Darrel, holding hands now, Rosie noticed, went to the garden. Yuck, even the way he held hands was stupid. Only Rosie stayed at the fountain, unnoticed by everybody else.
How was it possible for a fountain to freeze? Rosie knew the answer to that, vaguely, which suggested she must’ve heard at least some of the tour guide’s chatter. The running water of the fountain took longer to freeze than the still water of the lake, because the movement kept it warmer, but if the air outside was cold enough then eventually the water, running or not, would all reach zero degrees. When that happened, the fountain froze, mid flow. One second shooting water into the air, the next a wave of ice.
Rosie heard them talking from the rose garden and looked over. Darrel was patting Mom on the butt, and Mom was letting him. They hadn’t even noticed she was gone yet. God.
First Rosie sat on the edge of the fountain. Then she swung her legs round, so her feet were in the water. Then she slid off the edge and put her butt in. It was warmer than she’d expected. She lay down, and let the spray from the fountain rain down all over her. She stayed like that, looking up at the sky, imagining herself back in 1864 when this was all frozen still.
Mom’s was the first raised voice, followed by Darrel and then the tour guide and everybody else. Rosie heard, but did not see, them searching for her. They started in the garden, and some of them moved indoors. They called her name. Rosie! Rosie! People who didn’t know her, looking for her. Rosie-pa! Some of them were in the room with the big table. Some of them were out by the coach.
They would find her soon enough. Maybe Mom would spot her, or maybe even Darrel. It could be the tour guide. It could be anyone – there were enough people looking for her. They’d all be relieved because she was ‘safe’ and angry at her for frightening them so. Darrel would sulk because he’d been upstaged. They might have to return to the hotel because Rosie’s clothes would be dripping sodden through. Rosie didn’t care.
She imagined the water getting colder and colder, little by little by little by little until it froze completely, taking her with it.
Nancy Drew was about to solve the case of the tapping heels when Rosie’s Mom brushed her fingers through her hair and said “Hey ho, Blossom.” Mom reminded Rosie to behave. Behaving meant putting Nancy back in the bag and pretending to pay attention and making the right noises at the right times. Rosie knew the drill.
Darrel, Mom’s new boyfriend, was at the Palace gates already, waiting for them. Correction – waiting for one of them. It was apparent from his face, unsuccessfully camouflaged, that neither he nor Rosie understood the purpose of her inclusion in today’s tour.
“What a bummer, hey?” said Darrel. “I thought it was gonna be made of real ice.”
Mom laughed, which was annoying. Darrel hadn’t even said anything funny.
“No,” said Rosie. “It’s named for the freezing of the fountains in 1864. The owners of the palace were so enchanted by the sight of the crystal icy water that they commemorated it in the naming of the palace.”
“Blossom,” warned Mom. Quoting the guide was not behaving.
“Well, I feel like I’ve learned something already” said Darrel. He head-nodded at the group gathered by the side of the bus around the guide, who was stressing the importance of being back at the bus at twelve sharp. “Shall we join them?”
“Mom, do you think they would leave without us if we came back at twelve oh five?”
“Definitely,” said Mom. “Now behave. I’ve already asked you nicely.”
Rosie sighed. Darrel made a face, trying to bond with her. So tiresome. The guide started walking towards the palace gate ticket counters and Mom led the way behind him, one hand pulling Rosie, the other pulling Darrel. Rosie wandered why Darrel hadn’t brought tickets already, while he was waiting for them to arrive, but she didn’t say anything. She was being a good Blossom. When everyone was ticketed up the guide took them under the arched entranceway and across an eternal gravel driveway into the palace’s grand hall.
The guide drew his group’s attention to a big table in a room protected by a red rope. “This table,” he said, “was blah blah blah-pa blah.” Darrel noticed the guide’s speech impediment for the first time and started making fun of it. Quietly, just to Rosie and Mom. Mom laughed, and somebody nearby must have overheard because they laughed a little bit too. Darrel took his joke to a larger circle of the guided tourists, and finally, encouraged by the odd furtive giggle, to the tour guide’s face. “Is this all pa-part and pa-parcel of the proper-pa pa-palace-pa tour?” Rosie thought it was mean, but Mom laughed, so Rosie laughed too. The tour guide didn’t look very happy, and nor did some of the guided tourists.
“It’s funny,” said Rosie to Darrel, “because he has a speech impediment.” Luckily for Blossom, Darrel didn’t recognise biting sarcasm.
Rosie tried to send apologies to the tour guide with the power of her mind. Darrel was a douche and Mom was simpering. Why did Rosie have to be here again? Nancy Drew wouldn’t have agreed to this. But Rosie weren’t no Nancy Drew. She switched off.
Since Mom and Dad’s separation, Rosie had discovered the gift of autopilot. It came in handy in all kinds of situations. Ten minutes passed, or maybe an hour, or maybe two. Under autopilot, Rosie wasn’t sure. They could’ve been through ten grand palace rooms or a hundred. Darrel could’ve said one more stupid thing or a thousand. Mom could’ve laughed at all his dumb jokes or just some of them. Rosie, blissfully, didn’t know. She didn’t know, either, when they’d made it into the garden, but she ‘woke up’ when she realised they were standing in front of the fountain that had frozen a hundred and fifty years ago. The fountain had given the palace its name. It had to be something worth looking at.
Hmm. It wasn’t amazing. It was okay, but nothing special. So-so. She’d seen better in the mall. But it was interesting that something so insignificant could turn into something so beautiful that the entire building was named after it. Rosie switched herself all the way back on – she wanted to hear what the tour guide had to pa-say about this. But the tour guide was already moving on to a rose garden down the way.
Having been in zombie-mode for the last ten minutes question mark hour question mark two, Rosie had turned invisible. The guide went to the garden. The tour group went to the garden. Mom and Darrel, holding hands now, Rosie noticed, went to the garden. Yuck, even the way he held hands was stupid. Only Rosie stayed at the fountain, unnoticed by everybody else.
How was it possible for a fountain to freeze? Rosie knew the answer to that, vaguely, which suggested she must’ve heard at least some of the tour guide’s chatter. The running water of the fountain took longer to freeze than the still water of the lake, because the movement kept it warmer, but if the air outside was cold enough then eventually the water, running or not, would all reach zero degrees. When that happened, the fountain froze, mid flow. One second shooting water into the air, the next a wave of ice.
Rosie heard them talking from the rose garden and looked over. Darrel was patting Mom on the butt, and Mom was letting him. They hadn’t even noticed she was gone yet. God.
First Rosie sat on the edge of the fountain. Then she swung her legs round, so her feet were in the water. Then she slid off the edge and put her butt in. It was warmer than she’d expected. She lay down, and let the spray from the fountain rain down all over her. She stayed like that, looking up at the sky, imagining herself back in 1864 when this was all frozen still.
Mom’s was the first raised voice, followed by Darrel and then the tour guide and everybody else. Rosie heard, but did not see, them searching for her. They started in the garden, and some of them moved indoors. They called her name. Rosie! Rosie! People who didn’t know her, looking for her. Rosie-pa! Some of them were in the room with the big table. Some of them were out by the coach.
They would find her soon enough. Maybe Mom would spot her, or maybe even Darrel. It could be the tour guide. It could be anyone – there were enough people looking for her. They’d all be relieved because she was ‘safe’ and angry at her for frightening them so. Darrel would sulk because he’d been upstaged. They might have to return to the hotel because Rosie’s clothes would be dripping sodden through. Rosie didn’t care.
She imagined the water getting colder and colder, little by little by little by little until it froze completely, taking her with it.