The Emancipation of Cassandra

In the Midwest, long ago, a girl of six was sent to school.

"Make us proud", said the Mother.

"Behave yourself", said the Father.  And the girl's older brother stuck out his
tongue and then went away to play with his friends.

The school was big; the girl's legs dangled in the air when she sat in the chairs
and the teachers frowned because when she was told to color she didn't stay inside
the lines.  Then one day a teacher taught the girl how to read.

"Now practice", said the teacher.  "Practice or else you'll forget and will have
to learn how to do this all over again next year."  The thought of having to do
something all over again didn't appeal to the girl at all, so she continued to
read. She still preferred to color auras around pictures, though.

One day after school the girl came home but nobody was there.  "Hello", she said
in the livingroom.  It was empty.  "Hello!", she said in the kitchen, but it was
empty, too.  "HEY", she yelled at the foot of the stairs, but there was nobody
there to hear her.

She was bored.  She was lonely.  And she was a little scared.  So after letting
her winter coat fall to the floor she climbed the stairs to where the bedrooms and
her father's study were.  She didn't want to go to her room.  Instead, she went
into her father's study.

On the far wall, behind the desk, were shelves and shelves of books.  To the
right, beside the drafting board her father used, the wall was also lined with
books.  And in the southeast corner of the room was a window that looked out on
the yard below.  The girl didn't come here often because this is where her father
usually was and he was not to be disturbed.  But today was different.

So today she walked across the floor to the far wall and looked at the books.  
She took a book down, put it on the floor, and opened it.  Instead of finding
pages with words on them she found herself looking as from a window at a sunny
meadow with wild carrot blooming and butterflies in the air.  How
wonderful!  And as she looked, a butterfly came out of the book and landed on her
left hand.  She reached with her other hand to touch it, but it fluttered back
into the book.  Concentrating entirely on the butterfly, she dived in and
tumbled into the meadow below.  Unhurt, she picked herself up and followed the
butterfly far into the meadow.

Meanwhile, older brother came home from school and sat down in the livingroom to
watch TV.  A little later the mother came home.

"Where is she?", she asked him.
"I dunno", answered brother, and went back to watching TV.  A bit later the
father came home.  "Where is she?", the mother asked the father.
"How should I know?", answered the father, irritated.  "If she isn't home by
dinnertime then she can go straight to bed without any."
"Dinner is ready now", answered the mother, so the three of them sat down in the
kitchen and ate.

When the meal was ended, the brother went back to watching TV, the mother
sat down to knit, and the father went upstairs to his study.  There he found a
book on the floor; it was open to a picture of the land as it was before the town
he lived in was founded, before the developers came and built the roads and
the sewer lines and the very house he was standing in.

"That kid's gonna have to learn respect", he grumbled as he closed the book and
put it back on the shelf. "I'll ground her for at least a week".