The morning at the hospital had been thankfully uneventful and Tara now found herself in the busy streets, navigating the unfamiliar mazes as well as she could.

It being Wednesday morning meant that it wasn’t as crowded as it could have been, though there were still a lot more people around than she was used to, which made her slightly nervous. She wasn’t sure if she should make herself big, walking like she owned the place, or small, making sure nobody would notice her. As usual in these situations, her alternate self won the debate and she tried to stride as purposefully as she could.

She stopped for a moment to admire a pair of heels in a store window, not that she was terrible interested in shoes, let alone ones that cost two hundred dollars, but she wanted to admire the snake skin leather, which like the watch she habitually wore reminded her of dragons.

She was about to continue walking when she heard a familiar voice, “It is you!”

A moment later she felt an arm around her shoulder and the weight of a girl leaning on it. She looked up in the grinning face of one of her former classmates, Jessica Fisher, who she expected never to see again after junior high. Jessica was going to a different school after all. She was slightly taller than Tara, had dull brown hair that she had crimped so badly that if hair had funerals Tara’s own black hair would be appropriately dressed, a round face and a cherubic smile that was only marred by two slightly too large front teeth.

“What’s with the hair?” Jessica asked, her brown eyes sparkling with delight at the following thought, “Hot date?”

Tara shook her head, “Going to a book store.”

“Dressed like that?” Jessica asked, shaking her head. Tara knew the other girl placed a lot of value on her social status and she clearly didn’t believe anyone would dress up for social suicide like this.

“There’s only going to be nerds there.”

“Good thing I’m looking for books,” Tara said, slightly sticking out her tongue before finishing her sentence, “Not boys.”

She was about to continue walking, unsure if this conversation was going anywhere, “Hey, Tara... Go chipmunks?”

It seemed an odd question, though it made sense to Tara. Jessica was asking what high school Tara was going to.

“Go buffaloes!” she returned.

Jessica made a face that held the middle between anger and a pout, “That’s five! Nobody’s going to mine…”

“It’s cause Patriot High sucks,” Tara said with all the certainty only somebody who’d been indoctrinated by her siblings on the evils of a rival school could have, “…Besides, who’d want to be a chipmunk?”

“Chipmunks are cute!” Jessica said and for a brief moment she saw the animal back in Jessica’s teeth, then simply conceded.

“They are, but I’d still rather be a buffalo.”

“Gotta eat a lot more,” Jessica grinned, before the conversation drifted to the more mundane subjects of catching up, Jessica clearly not wanting to see Tara leave.

“But you’re really here just for a book store?” Jessica asked when they discovered neither of them had done much interest over summer, or nothing they wanted to admit anyway, “What’s special about it?”

Tara took out the ad for the store from her bag, handing it to Jessica.

“Nerd,” the girl said flatly, “But you probably shouldn’t go there.”

“Why not?”

“Some church people have been protesting. Say Satan's in the store.”

“It’s a book store,” was all Tara managed to bring out.

Jessica shrugged, “You’ll see.”

“Guess I will…”

Jessica had not been wrong, there was a picket outside the Mage’s pages, however, the protest was mercifully small. It seemed to consist only of housewives that had nothing better to do on a Wednesday morning, and a single man dressed in a priest’s frock. Tara vaguely recognized the man, but she wasn’t sure from where. He looked angry, from his bearing to the wild hair and finally the angry gesturing he did between the women’s chants. Tara couldn’t hear what it was from the distance she was watching, but the tune sounded oddly familiar.

This left Tara wondering, should she go in the store or simply wait for another day when there weren’t crazies in front of it. It quickly came to her that A’rat definitely wouldn’t have backed down so close to her goal. She simply held her head high and approached the store, now realizing what the protesters were chanting.

“This store..

puts you on a

highway to heck!

It’s on the highway to heck!”

Tara put her hands over her mouth, stifling the readily escaping giggles, which was when the priest noticed her.

“Beware, young sinner!”

“I’m not a sinner,” Tara mumbled in protest, briefly stopping in stride, “I go to church.”

“This store will tarnish your immortal soul! Steer clear!”

Tara thought what, if anything, her parents had told her to do in situations like this, landing on the strategy she was told to employ in the case of catcalling or crazies. Look ahead and pretend you can’t hear them.

She passed the man, doing just that, which was he grabbed her shoulder. She ducked it down, turned on her heel and prepared to, if necessary, firmly plant her foot between his legs, which was more her older brother’s advice than her parents’, but she found it apt.

“Child! We only worry for your immortal soul! Do not venture into that den of depravity!”

Tara very slowly raised both brows, trying to look as unimpressed as she could, “It’s a book store, sir.”

“But, child of Christ! Have you seen the wares they peddle?”

Tara, who now didn’t have to try to look unimpressed, sighed, “I know what books look like, yes”

“Not these books, child! Mary!”

Mary was one of the picketers, an elderly woman, squat, graying and dressed in a floral pattern that made her look like a cheap couch. She stumbled over and presented a book to the priests. Tara noticed the woman wore dish gloves to handle it, though the priest seemed to need no such dramatics.

The man held the book in front of Tara’s faces.

“What does this look like to you?”

Tara studied the book, it read Player’s Handbook and a reddish figure prominently held center stage.

She closed one eye, cocked her head and shook her head, “A rotten orange?”

“An idol, child! An idol! And you know what the bible says about idolatry! To you specifically even! 1 John 5:21!”

Tara had been to church, but she mostly spent the time there dreaming or dozing off and had no idea what 1 John 5:21 said. She nodded though the confusion was visible on her face.

“Dear children!” the man supplied, “Keep yourself from idols!”

“Uh-huh,” Tara nodded, she liked the youth pastor a lot better, “I’m leaving now.”

“Little girl,” one of the woman said, which annoyed Tara, she wasn’t little, “Please consider your soul, but if you still insist on going in, please take this.”

The women tried to hand Tara a bluish flier that read ‘Dungeons and Dragons: Witchcraft Suicide violence.’ under a picture of a a dragon.

“I’m just having a look, ma’am,” Tara said, avoiding taking or even touching the paper, “I don’t even know what Dungeons and Dragons is.”

She turned away from the picketers, then pushed into the store.

“The path to eternal damnation!” the priest called after her, starting a rambling spiel that clearly had been rehearsed and used many times before. She pretend not to hear it and after the store’s bell chimed and the door fell shut behind her, she couldn’t. She stared in wonder at the products around her.

She was in paradise.