Capistrano

The moment of truth.

Under dim lights of a log cabin, Glint beside me was stopped in her tracks. She'd arrived dressed to impress—white polka dots lined her casual, dark dress that draped down towards her ankles. She'd worn sandals again today for the heat, but now carried a studded purse my sister had lent her.

The old lady in a doorway ahead of us held out her hand. "May I see your passport, dearie?"

Glint flashed a friendly smile before reaching into her purse. "Of course. One sec."

Let's hope this goes well . . . I couldn't help but gulp. Down my neck, a cold sweat slid until it kissed the collar of my dress shirt. I'd decided to wear a brown suit today with an elaborate tie that matched dark shoes.

"Hmmm, okay." The lady opened Glint's leather-bound passport. Inside were pages of legal jargon, until it flipped to the back where a small portrait photo was embedded. Detailed right underneath were Glint's age, address, and other specifics to an American flag background.

"H-How's everything?" Glint said.

With a satisfied nod, the lady closed and handed back the passport. "It smells like new! Please enjoy your visit at Mission San Juan Capistrano."

Glint and I didn't say another word as we walked out into sunlight. It was a gorgeous garden plaza secluded within forgotten ruins. Crowds congregated around a huge fountain overflowing with lily pads and water lilies just floating on the surface.

But we didn't have time to sightsee. Not yet. We strolled at a brisk pace—just slow enough to avoid suspicion—dodging through tourists until we arrived at a rest area paved with bricks. No one else lingered about.

Glint who'd been holding back laughing finally let loose as she threw her arms around me and swung herself around. "Haha! Brilliant! It worked, Chance! It worked!"

"Y-Yeah! I'm glad."

She kept herself snuggled to me while someone walked by. When we were alone again, Glint broke away to admire our scenery.

"It's so cool you picked a mission for the first place we visit! I've always wanted to explore one."

"Sorry I couldn't take us outside California yet."

"Mm-mm." She shook her head. "This is plenty for now. You mentioned there's big block-out dates for places abroad, right?"

"Yup." Especially tourist traps like Paris . . .

But Glint seemed more than happy marveling at the bright foliage surrounding us. She stuck her nose inside a sunflower, before moving towards clusters of orange poppies. Not even a tall, prickly cactus could keep her away as she tapped the spines, giggling.

"There's lots more to see," I said from behind. "Wanna take it slow?"

Vivid colors kept distracting her. She linked four fingers together into a rectangle, mimicking a camera. "Snap. There's no rush. Wish I could've brought a camera though."

"Oh, I got a spare at home I could lend you next time."

"Really? That'd be great!"

I'd kept my DSLR camera at home since this place wasn't great for birding. The location was one of several across California where Spaniards established "missions" to convert Native Americans to Catholicism. Centuries of weathering, along with political strife, had led to the collapse and eventual restoration of Mission San Juan Capistrano. It now served as a time capsule, split evenly between ruins and its original adobe brick structures.

Glint kept prancing down garden pathways as we headed towards our first exhibit. She was always a few steps ahead, eager to see new sights.

"Hold on, wait," I called to her. But she'd already dashed into an old brick building.

A walkie talkie-esque device around my wrist began beeping. I'd gotten one strapped on at the mission's check-in counter, though it'd felt unnecessary. Glint had slipped another into her purse.

Using this thing's gonna be lame. But I swallowed my pride and walked into the brick structure.

Inside, old, wired lights crawled along a ceiling barely holding itself together. An intense air of dust and leather propelled up my nose with each step farther inside. The room—a showcase of soldier's artifacts—seemed deserted apart from Glint peering into a display case.

"See something cool?" I stepped beside her.

"Yeah, look," she pointed. "Old-timey gun."

"Musket. This was the soldier's quarters, so we'll see a bunch of their stuff in here."

A quick glance behind me revealed sets of old cots, a dining table, and more glass cases filled with swords or books. Several paintings helped liven an otherwise drab atmosphere.

"Grrrr . . . " Glint was fiddling with her own walkie-talkie, pressing a number pad. "I can't raise the volume to hear the audio guide better."

"Right, they're always quiet. Way weird to use too."

She pressed another three-number combo before raising the device to her ear. "It's talking about Spanish soldiers who helped protect this mission."

I went exploring while she stayed behind. The small room didn't have much else to look at, so I pulled out my phone. An old text from earlier mentione—

The sound of dress shoes clacking.

From the corner of my eye, a shadowy figure strolled into the room. He'd donned a striped, black suit with a fedora that shaded his stern eyes. But unlike most other BOPO officers, this one brandished a rapier sheathed at his side.

He gazed around, like some guard dog on patrol, before spotting Glint admiring a painting.

I instinctively walked over to her and wrapped my arm around her shoulders. "Don't do anything suspicious."

She didn't even know what was happening. But heeded the whispered warning. Glint mimicked a snuggling girlfriend as she leaned in closer to me.

The BOPO officer skulked past us. Each step echoed off old brick walls until he exited out the other doorway.

"Hmm?" Glint peeked to make sure they were gone. "Was that . . .?"

"Yeah," I said before separating from her. "BOPO goons patrol the whole planet by now."

"Why?"

"Dunno. We'll see them more often when we start traveling."

I searched for concern on her face, but she just shrugged. There was an air of cheerfulness if anything.

"Well, you know they don't know my face. So I'll tolerate goons if they don't bug us, hehe."

After we finished seeing the rest of the room, we set out to explore Mission San Juan Capistrano. The layout consisted of two large plazas enclosed by historic buildings. Lush gardens guided us towards chambers where priests once slept, before we crept into an exhibit that honored Native Americans. Glint kept fiddling with her audio guide each step of the way, until we'd arrived outside the mission's main attraction.

"Should be just in here." I motioned towards a dark passageway where tourists were passing through.

Candles lit the way as we entered an elaborate atrium. The Serra Chapel had two rows of church benches facing a gilded, distant altar. Several people were sitting down, keeping to themselves in silent prayer.

"Do we just keep walking in?" Glint beside me whispered.

"Yeah. Follow me."

The chapel's floor was paved with timeworn tiles. Everything spoke of old age, from the wall’s faded paint to the rusted chandeliers hanging above. Scant light made seeing deeper details difficult.

But after walking through exhibits all morning, I was exhausted, and slid into a church bench.

"Hmm?" Glint out in the aisle said. "Don't you wanna see the altar?"

"Later, I've been up there before. Just need a break."

Part of me hoped she'd sit down with me. Instead, she pranced up the aisle like an eager child.

I watched her lean in to smell burning candles; the wafts of melted wax managed to reach even back here.

What are we gonna do with her . . . Ever since yesterday, I'd been conflicted, and thinking. Chad sent me a text that changed my perspective on things, and how I'd act with Glint going forward.

I pulled out my phone to check Chad's message again:

'Hey, I don't feel like being a third wheel, so I'm bailing on tomorrow's trip. On every trip actually. I seen the way Glint looks at you; there's definitely sparks if you wanna go for her. Just be happy, man—chase after a girl instead of chasing after ghosts.'

But what did he mean by "ghosts"? And did he notice how I looked at Glint?

She was in the distance gazing up at Jesus Christ on his cross. The backdrop of a golden altar with other religious statues peering down at her—I wondered what was going through her mind.

Ever since seeing Glint in my mirror two weeks ago, I'd felt a special connection with her. This girl who saw the world differently was just like me—running from things beyond our control. The biggest difference was that she had more drive than I ever had to chase a dream.

Though now, maybe Glint was the one I wanted to chase after.

I'd been staring up at the ceiling gathering my thoughts. That's why I was surprised when Glint sat down right beside me.

"Something on your mind?" she said.

"H-Huh?" I stammered, trying to think of excuses. "Uhhh, I was just thinking that you're not wearing a hat today."

Even in faint light I could see her blush for a moment, before she smiled. "Maybe it's just time I stopped hiding under things. And started looking around me more."

Our eyes met until an awkward silence fell. We kept to ourselves as we lingered in our own thoughts.

Did she just try sending a hint? My ex-girlfriend would apparently always try sending me hints, so I suck at picking up on them. Should I go for it? How would things change if we start dating? Or if she's not actually interested?

But just when I prepared to speak, Glint's somber voice broke the silence.

"When I lived in Britain," she said, "I was just locked away at home and couldn't go out much. Then I move to California and it's the same thing. I'm tired of being inside. I wanted to see the world. Explore. So I ran away. I want freedom. That's all I've wanted until now. So . . . thanks for helping make my dream come true."

"Hmm?" I said. "It's not a big deal, haha. Just let me know where you wanna go and I'll see what I can do."

She nodded, looking down at her dark dress. "Anywhere is fine for now. But it'd be nice to visit London sometime."

"Even though you've been there before?"

"Well—isn't it sad to live in Britain and move away before ever seeing Big Ben?"

"Point taken." I stood to stretch out. "Actually, before we swing by Alcatraz later, wanna get something to eat here?"

"Oh, I'm fine, thanks. I'll just eat at hom—"

"Wait, better idea: there's a super good clam chowder joint in San Francisco. I'll treat us."

"It's not expensive?"

"I've got my allowance saved. Don't worry."

I was essentially asking her out on a date, but it felt so natural that I didn't even hesitate. This was part of her dream after all—to see the world and explore different cultures. And I had a hunch she wanted this even more than me.

Glint twiddled her fingers together, grinning. "I've never tried clam chowder before. If it's anything like your cooking, there's no way I can say no, hehe."

We solidified the day's plans. As we left the chapel together and entered a colorful garden, I pointed towards some ruins ahead.

"Let's check stuff over there," I said.

She seemed confused. "Secret area?"

"Nah. I wanna see if there's some birds I can find before we leave."

"Oh yeah. You liked birdwatching, right?"

"Mm. And this mission is famous for one kind of bird."

We came across a lonely fountain hidden under the shadow of a bell tower. There wasn't wildlife in sight, though I could hear distant crowds murmuring. This was an area where guests could hike through ruins of a fallen church.

Glint peered up towards some eaves. "By the way, I've been hearing about one song all day today."

"P-Probably. What about it?" Woah, she guesses things fast.

Her hands made cute little fluttering motions, like wings trying to take off. "Does it have something to do with those birds we're looking for?"

There wasn't any way I could deny it now. I'd wanted to surprise her a little somehow, maybe for fun, but introducing her to my hobbies earlier on felt fine.