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My name is Hazy Bloom, and I can see tomorrow. Not next year, not two weeks from now, tomorrow. Here’s how it works: I will be enjoying my day, doing something totally normal, like counting toilet-paper squares, or searching for alien life, or trying to make my own toothpaste, when all of a sudden a “tomorrow vision” will flash into my head of something that’s going to happen the next day. Sometimes the vision is crystal clear, and other times it’s, well, hazy (ha!). Either way, it’s up to me to figure out what the vision means. The good news is, I always get it right.
Well, except for the time I turned around all the desks in my classroom as a prank because I was sure we were having a substitute (we weren’t). And that other time I snuck out of science lab because I was positive a wagon full of raw eggs was about to plow into a ticket booth (it didn’t). Then there was the whole Spring Spectacular catastrophe, where I ruined an acrobatic show in front of the entire school …
Okay, fine. I’m not always right. See, my tomorrow power is pretty new. I’m still trying to figure out how it works, how I got it in the first place, and whether I’ll be getting any other powers soon, such as dolphin translation or invisibility, which would come in very handy in gym class when we are forced to do push-ups. The point is, I’m getting a new iguana.
Let me back up a bit. It all started this morning, when Elizabeth and I arrived at the school office. Elizabeth Almeida is my BFSB (best friend since birth) and my official “tomorrow power sidekick,” which is a job she gave herself but I completely agreed to. Whenever I get a tomorrow vision, Elizabeth is the first to know (besides me, of course). Then she helps me figure out if the vision is about something good (sometimes), bad (most of the time), or wonderful (pretty much never). The point is, if you ever end up with a superpower and need a sidekick, well, you can’t call Elizabeth. Because she works with me. Also, I just like having her around because, as my best friend, she’s funny, smart, and basically the nicest person in the whole world.
She’s also a teensy bit bossy.
See, Elizabeth gets a little intense when we have something important to do. And this morning, the two of us had been picked to do the morning announcements at school. As far as Elizabeth was concerned, that was right up there with becoming president or discovering a new planet or holding the door open on the way to recess. In other words, very important.
“Girls, this is so exciting!” That was our teacher, Mrs. Agnes. She obviously thought this was important, too, the way she was darting back and forth like we were about to go on national television instead of our school video monitor. “Are you ready? Are you nervous? Do you have everything?”
Elizabeth waved two pieces of paper in her hand. “Everything’s right here!” Mrs. Agnes didn’t have to worry. Elizabeth was ready. She handed me my paper, which looked like a movie script. It had carefully highlighted lines, some with ELIZABETH in front and others with HAZEL (my real name) in front. I couldn’t help but notice that there were a lot more ELIZABETHs than HAZELs. But that was fine with me. She’s the performer. I’m the secret superhero.
“Okay, this is it! Places, please!” Mrs. Agnes squealed.
Elizabeth smoothed her shirt and checked that we were standing behind the white line marked on the floor (she was; I was not). Then she nodded professionally to Mrs. Agnes, who pushed a button on the side of the camera. It started blinking.
“It’s on!” Mrs. Agnes cried for the whole school to hear as an image of Elizabeth and me flashed onto the video monitors in every classroom. Elizabeth was smiling pleasantly into the camera. She looked happy, comfortable, and confident.
I looked like I was trying to remember when I had last gone to the bathroom.
Mrs. Agnes pointed at us and mouthed, “Action!”
“Good morning and happy Friday, Lipkin Lions!” Elizabeth announced.
In case you’re wondering what in the world that means: our school is called Ida Lipkin Elementary School, and our school mascot is the lion. I don’t know why it’s a lion, because if you ask me, it should be something much more exotic, like the Lipkin Llamas or the Lipkin Lemurs or the Lipkin Squids (who says it has to begin with an L?). The point is, I was busy thinking up different animal mascots and totally missed my turn to speak.
“Hazy Bloom, go!” Elizabeth hissed. She jabbed her finger at my paper.
“Oh!” I said, fumbling for my line. I began. “My name is Hazy Bloom. And—”
“And here are today’s announcements!” Elizabeth interrupted.
I guess she wanted to say that part.
Elizabeth went on to announce the science-fair finalists. Then she talked about the school clothing drive, which was still accepting donations. Then she reminded everyone to order their yearbooks before the deadline next Friday. Then she performed the song “You’re a Grand Old Flag,” which I don’t think was planned, but it did seem like an effective way for Elizabeth to broadcast her talents to the whole school.
After Elizabeth finished the song, she gestured that it was my turn to speak again. I looked down at my paper.
“And now, the thought of the day.” All I had to do was read the quote written on my paper and I’d be finished. Simple. Easy. Done and done.
Except at that very moment, just as I was about to speak … a tomorrow vision flashed into my head.
That’s how it happens. I’ll be doing something perfectly normal, like reading the thought of the day in front of the whole school, when suddenly, I start to feel prickles and goose bumps and my body gets hot and cold at the same time, and then—a picture flashes in my head.
And this picture was of … a bright yellow blob. So instead of saying, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step,” which was the thought of the day (and an inspiring one, I must say), I said this:
Because that’s when I knew I was getting an iguana.
Okay, I know what you’re thinking. First, you’re thinking, Did you really need to say, “WooHoo! Yippee! HooYa!” in front of the entire school? To which the answer is yes, because I was that excited. And second, you’re thinking, A blob isn’t an iguana, which obviously I know because I’m not a total birdbrain. But here’s what else I know: the yellow blob was almost definitely in the shape of a large animal, and I was 99.9 percent sure that animal was a hippo. And a yellow hippo just happens to be the logo for Critter City, a pet shop down the street. And because I’d been begging my parents for an iguana ever since my neighbor Jarrod had a reptile-themed birthday party and I saw an iguana up close and it was love at first sight, I could only conclude they were finally getting me one of my own—tomorrow. I couldn’t believe it!
I flashed Elizabeth an ecstatic grin. I couldn’t wait to tell her the news. She’d be so happy and excited for me. Or maybe, because she was my best friend and could practically read my mind, she could already tell I was getting an iguana and already was happy and excited for me.
Then I noticed her expression, which did not convey happy and excited as much as furious and about to kill me. Through gritted teeth, Elizabeth said, “READ. THE. THOUGHT. OF. THE. DAY. NOW.”
Perhaps I’d share my iguana news after school.
Text copyright © 2018 Jennifer Hamburg
