"Hey, hey, hey, how you doin' purty lady?" The man taking the escalator down into the subway across from mine spoke with a heavy southern drawl that was exacerbated by enormous, gold-capped teeth that protruded from his mouth. He grinned and leaned across the escalator, staring at me through mischievous eyes.
"I'm well, thanks" I said, smiling as I pulled out my phone and texted Jamie to let her know that I had arrived. The darkness swallowed him as he disappeared down into the subway. Meanwhile, I emerged onto the street and into the sweltering Georgia sun.
**
I found a sunny spot on the sidewalk where I decided to wait for Jamie to arrive. Feeling my skin becoming clammy from the heat, I peeled my hoodie from my body and tied it around my waist. Wearing my favorite black-and-white striped tank-top, I rolled up my Old Navy boot-cut jeans and took a seat on top of my suitcase. I took my cell phone out of my bag and dialed Dad's cell.
"Hey Manda!" Dad answered energetically. "I'm here with your Mom, and we're heading to the office." Dad and Mom sounded cheery, as they often did when gallivanting with each other.
"Oh, okay" I replied. "I just wanted to call you guys to let you know that I arrived safely."
"Manda," Mom piped up from the background, "you have to read Stolen Legacy by George G.M. James." She continued, "There's no such thing as 'Greek philosophy.'" My mom, a bibliophile who had done enough reading to have earned herself a PhD three times over, possessed a love for history that rivaled even my own.
"Who's it by again mom?" I asked, pulling a receipt out of my pocket and turning it over to write the name down on the back. "George G.M. James," Mom repeated. "He talks about how the Greeks were originally educated in Egypt. After the invasion of Alexander the Great, Egypt's libraries were pillaged and Aristotle converted it into a research center."
"Are you serious?" I replied, my interest genuinely peaked.
"Yes!" Mom continued. "Many of the books that historians currently attribute to Aristotle came from Egypt's libraries."
"That makes sense," I replied, "because even experts can't seem to explain how Aristotle supposedly managed to author so many books and across so many disciplines throughout his lifetime."
A gray sedan pulled up to the curb in front of where I sat and a tall, thin, woman with a pallid complexion emerged. Her large, curly hair was dyed jet-black and she sported a mini skirt, platform thongs, and a black tank top.
"Yo," she began, "Amanda?" She stared at me skeptically through dark-rimmed sunglasses.
"Yep," I said, looking up at her from where I sat comfortably on the sidewalk.
"Hey, I'm Jamie." She stuck out her hand to complete the introduction.
"Hey mom, can I call you back?" I said into the phone.
"Oh, no problem" Mom replied. "I'll talk to you later. I love you!"
By now Jamie stood behind her car with the trunk open.
"Okay, I'll call soon" I said. "I love you guys too."
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