Entangled Summer Read Free

another room, further down the hall. And others were escorted back out the main doors, where I imagine the wonder twins would show them to their cars and see them safely off the property.
    When I got bored with the selection of novels loaded on my e-reader, I switched to the pamphlets and brochures about the school that lined the tables. I flipped over one that featured a picture of a group of children wearing hand painted t-shirts. ‘Wanderlust Academy... Magic happens when you let your mind wander’. Catchy . I scanned the list of previous attendees. A ton of well-known celebrities had apparently attended a summer of two. The school had a rich and eclectic history, having changed ownership multiple times, the last as recently as a year ago. Every type of creative and artistic class imaginable was offered. Too bad I hadn’t heard of this sooner. I’d have preferred teaching sculpting classes, or painting, or something arts related. But according to Kenzie those had been filled months ago. I knew nothing about puppetry. How was that even a class? If the newest owner, Troy Bellisaro, hadn’t come in and insisted it be added to the curriculum, I’d still be back in my apartment, fighting off the mice. Instead of being served gourmet sandwiches and beverages while waiting to be interviewed. Part of me started to want this job in a way that made me uncomfortable. I’d gotten used not getting what I wanted. So a new desire springing to life was not a welcome feeling. Stay detached, I self-lectured, as I helped myself to a fourth rice paper veggie wrap.
    I browsed another brochure, while munching on my wrap. This Troy guy was from my area. He’d decided to purchase the school, when he heard it’s previous own had fallen ill. So he was the savior type. Nice. That had to have been his motivation, because none of his credits indicated anything even remotely related to the arts. He’d done some corporate stuff in New York. Graduated top of his class in Harvard law. And studied past-life regression and paranormal studies in the UK? Wow, talk about eclectic. He’d traveled most of the world and held an undergraduate degree in medicine. What was this guy, a hundred? That’s a lot to accomplish in one lifetime.
    I was so engrossed in Troy Bellisaro’s accomplishments, that I didn’t hear the door open and the redhead call out my name.
    “Last call for a Nora Dultry,” she said with her faint British accent.
    I jumped up, sending an avalanche of brochures to the floor. “Here. Sorry,” I mumbled around a mouthful. I chewed fast, trying not to choke, while collecting my mess.
    She didn’t look impressed, peering over the top of her square, polka-dot-framed bifocals. “Follow me please Ms. Dultry.”
    I did and we entered the room so many others had entered and exited today.
    “Good afternoon. I am Miss Strange, and I’m here to delve into whether or not you would be a suitable fit for our academy.”
    Her spiel sounded like she’d recited it a dozen times already. She gestured to a wooden chair with a tall back. “Please. Sit.”
    Swallowing back the ball of nerves climbing up my throat, I did as I was told.
    Miss Strange didn’t bother to sit, but continued to wander around the office. My gaze shifted to the plaques and framed diplomas lining the dark paneled walls. Grace Eleanor Strange. Psychiatrist. Grace Strange Psychotherapist. Grace Strange Clinical Hypnotist and NLP Practitioner.
    Nowhere did it say anything about her arts training or her position at the academy. Like Troy Bellisaro’s qualifications they glaringly lacked an art focus.
    “So, please tell me why you would like to work here Ms. Dultry.” She didn’t turn to look at me when she asked the question.
    I straighten in my chair. “Well, I’ve always loved working with kids- I mean, children.” I said.
    Her pacing stopped, but she didn’t respond.
    “And I received an arts scholarship to return to college.
    “You took a year off?