Nick and Allie looked at one another, then took that first step forward, onto the very solid marble of the plaza that no longer existed. After the first step it became easier. It felt strange beneath their feet, so much solid ground. A team of girls playing double-dutch jump rope noticed them first.
“Hi!” said an African-American girl in drab clothes and tight cornrowed hair.
“You’re Greensouls, aren’t you?” All the time, she never stopped spinning her two ropes. Neither did the girl on the other end, who seemed entirely out of place there in the plaza, dressed in teddy-bear pajamas. Other girls skillfully jumped in and out of the arc of their spinning ropes. One girl took enough time away from the game, though, to size them up. She wore a sparkling silver halter top, and jeans that were so tight, she looked like a sausage bursting out of its skin. She looked Allie over, clearly unimpressed by Allie’s non-glittering wardrobe. “Is that what they wear now?”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
Then the girl in tight jeans looked at Lief, examining his clothes as well.
“You’re not a Greensoul.”
“Says who?” said Lief, insulted.
“He’s new to the city,” Allie said. “He might have crossed a long time ago, but he’s still kind of like a ‘Greensoul.’”
A big red handball came flying past, chased by a group of younger kids. The ball flew out of the plaza and into the street, crowded with the living. “Hurry,” one little boy yelled, “before it sinks!”
Another boy raced out into traffic, grabbed the ball that was already beginning to sink into the pavement, and disappeared beneath a city bus and two taxis. He paid them no mind, passing through the trunk of the last taxi as he stood up with the ball, and happily ran back to the plaza.
“You remember all those things your momma told you not to do?” said the girl with the corn-rows. “Like not running out into traffic? Well, you can do them here.”
“Who’s in charge?” asked Nick.
“Mary,” she said. “You oughta go and see her. She loves Greensouls.” Then she added, “We were all Greensouls once.”
Nick tapped Allie on the shoulder. “Look,” he said.
By now their presence had been noticed by most of the kids around the plaza.
Many of the games had stopped, and the kids stared, not sure what to do. Out of the crowd a girl stepped forward. She had long blond hair that nearly touched the floor, wore a tie-dyed shirt, and bell-bottoms so big, the cuffs practically trailed behind her like a bridal train. A ’60s hippie girl, if ever there was one.
“Don’t tell me,” said Allie, “your name is Summer, and you want to know if we’re groovy.”
“My name’s Meadow, and I don’t say groovy anymore, because I got tired of people making fun of me.”
“Do you have to insult everybody you meet?” Nick whispered to Allie, then turned back to Meadow. “I’m Nick, and this is Lief. The rude one is Allie.”
“I wasn’t being rude,” Allie insisted. “I was being facetious. There’s a difference.”
“No sweat,” said Meadow, which was almost as bad as groovy. “C’mon, I’ll take you to Mary.” Then she looked down. “What are those on your feet?”
They looked down to the bundles of sticks extending from the soles of their shoes. “Road-shoes,” said Nick. “Kind of like snowshoes, so we don’t sink, you know?”
“Hmm. Clever,” said Meadow. “But you won’t need them anymore.”
They took off their road-shoes, and followed Meadow across the plaza toward Tower One. Behind them, the rest of the kids returned to their games.
They passed a fountain in the center of the plaza, and Meadow turned to them.
“Would you like to make a wish?” Meadow asked. A closer look revealed the fountain to be full of coins beneath the shimmering water.
“Not really,” Allie said.
“Mary says every Greensoul who comes here has to make a wish.”
Nick was already reaching into his pocket.
“I don’t have a coin,” Allie said.