The Fragile Ordinary(76)
On the west end, bejeweled in green light like something out of Wicked or Disney, was Edinburgh’s Street of Light structure. It loomed as high as the buildings with two towers at the front and two at the back. Connecting those were arches, giving it the stunning appearance of a 3-D castle made up of stained glass. At night choirs and bands played under it, making the whole experience feel so magically Christmassy that it reminded me of how different my own Christmas experience was compared to a lot of people my age.
“Wow,” Tobias said as we stared up at it.
I burrowed closer to him, not just for heat, but because I couldn’t help myself from wanting to be as close to him as possible. Always.
Not long later the fair and markets opened and we strolled back down toward Princes Street Gardens. There was tons of stuff for kids in Santa Land, like Santa’s Grotto, the Santa Train, Christmas Tree Maze and lots of little rides.
At the east end of the gardens were two markets—the European Market and the Scottish Market. There were glühwein stands selling the German mulled wine, and others with traditional German bratwursts. The smells were brilliantly overwhelming as we walked among crowds that were growing by the minute. Soon, after perusing the craft gift stalls, the crowds became too much as we were jostled and bumped and almost separated numerous times. So I bought pretzels for us and we walked along Princes Street and up into New Town to St. Andrews Square. There was a circular ice rink that provided a three-hundred-sixty-degree journey around the large square, plus a bar with hot drinks to heat up skaters when they came off the rink.
For a while we just stood and watched a very small minority show off their skills on the rink, while the majority struggled to stay on their feet.
We laughed at people’s antics, and when we were ready we rented skates and joined in. To my surprise, Tobias—whom I’d assumed because he was athletic would be good at everything physical—was as much like Bambi on ice as I was. We slid and skidded and bumped and clasped on to each other, and all the while we laughed. We laughed so hard that my stomach hurt and I thought I might bring back up the pretzel I’d just eaten.
It was wonderful.
The entire day was the first day we didn’t speak of Stevie or Jimmy or Alana. It was the first day Tobias didn’t ask me if someone had bothered me at school. The answer for the past week had been no. After our confrontation with Stevie and Jimmy, things had gone eerily quiet. I’d caught only a few glimpses of the two of them at school, and they weren’t in the cafeteria at lunchtime. Alana had said a few snide remarks in the corridor between classes but she, too, melted away, whether in boredom or...or had Stevie told them all to back off? We’d waited all week for one of them to give us grief, but nothing had happened. Still, we couldn’t yet relax not knowing where Stevie’s head was at. Or in fact where Stevie was at.
But here, with winter needling our cheeks until they were rosy red and our grips slipping because of our thick gloves, I squealed as I almost fell, giggling as Tobias caught me and then struggled to stay standing. We fell against the rink barriers, arms wrapped around one another, our laughter dancing together, and I felt the safest, the most content that I’d felt in a long time.
Finally, deciding ice skating was neither of our forte, we left the ice and changed back into our shoes.
“Do you want to do the Ferris wheel?” I said as we strolled hand in hand—or glove-covered hand in glove-covered hand—back to Princes Street.
“Let’s leave that for night.” Tobias let go of my hand to slide his arm around my shoulders. He pulled me into his side and admitted, “I haven’t visited the castle yet.”
Shocked by this I decided we had to rectify that immediately. It was at least a twenty-minute walk up to the castle, and we stopped at a stall to buy a hot chocolate for our journey. Up on the Mile we lingered over street art, jewelry and a sword eater whom we and a crowd encircled in fascinated horror.
Sufficiently freaked out I led Tobias up Castle Hill and onto the castle esplanade.
“Nice driveway,” Tobias said as we walked toward the entrance. His gaze roamed the view of the city below.
“Just wait. It gets better up there.” I pointed to the castle.
Inside, Tobias insisted on paying for my ticket, and then I led him up the cobbled path to the main thoroughfare. From there we visited the Great Hall where royal ceremonies were held; we saw the Royal Palace and the Stone of Destiny upon which centuries of kings of Scotland had been enthroned; the crown jewels; St. Margaret’s Chapel, which was built around 1130, making it Edinburgh’s oldest building; Mons Meg the medieval European cannon gun; and the one o’clock gun that was fired at, well, one o’clock every day, a tradition that had started back in the 1800s to allow the ships on the Firth of Forth to set their maritime clocks. Although Tobias didn’t study history or enjoy it like I did, he wanted to see everything, including the regimental museums, the national war museum and the prison re-creation.
Finally, we stopped at the Half Moon Battery, the great curved wall that hosted the cannons and gave the castle its unique profile. From there we had a fantastic view over the city. I pointed out Calton Hill with its Athenian acropolis. And Arthur’s Seat, an ancient volcano and the main peak of the hills that formed most of Holyrood Park.
“I haven’t climbed it yet,” Tobias said.
“What have you been doing since you got here?”