by Wendy Mass
I’m tempted to run straight to the tree in the center, but that’s not what a labyrinth is for. So we start at the entrance and march along Tara’s outer circle. The labyrinth curves, and we’re in Rory’s circle, then Amanda’s. Finally, the four of us stand in the middle, in front of the tree.
“What now?” Tara asks.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “We need to connect to it somehow.” I kick off my sneakers and peel off my socks. The others do the same. I dig my feet into the soil, trying to ground myself in the earth. The others follow. The pulsing beat of the vortex now matches my own. I imagine a beam of energy entering through the top of my head, reaching deep into the source of the vortex’s power.
Then I ask it, out loud, very politely, to shut itself down.
It doesn’t.
I’m definitely connected to it, though, because I can feel that another wave is about to hit. “Duck!” I shout. We duck and hold on to one another as the wave bursts forth. It’s easier to handle when prepared. This time we’re just a little windblown.
“Um, Grace?” Rory tugs on my sleeve. “You’re shorter.”
“What?”
“You’ve shrunk, like, an inch,” Amanda says, her voice shaking. “The magic is still coming undone.”
“Okay,” I say as bravely as possible. “I can live with losing an inch. Let’s hope everyone else was spared.”
“Why didn’t it stop when you asked?” Rory asks.
“Maybe because you forgot this,” Ray shouts from where he and Leo are standing on the stone bench. “Again.”
It’s the bag of seeds!
“Catch!” he says, and lobs it overhand. I watch as the bag sails through the labyrinth, almost in slow motion. Tara reaches up and catches it neatly with one hand.
“Here ya go,” she says.
“Maybe baseball instead of fencing?” Rory suggests.
I pull on the ribbon and the top of the bag opens. Without thinking of what I’m supposed to do, I reach in and grab a handful of seeds. I sprinkle them all over the ground around the tree. “Oh, powerful vortex,” I say, feeling a little silly. “I am grateful for all the bounty you have given me and the whole town for so long.” I turn over the bag and let the last few seeds drift to the ground. “But we really, really need you to stop now.”
“Well,” Rory says, after a moment. “That oughta do it!”
We watch the tree, barely daring to breathe.
Stubbornly, the tree just keeps pulsing with energy. Fear sends icy spikes up my back. What if I can’t make the vortex stop?
Tara moves first. “What are these marks?” she asks, stepping closer to the tree. She traces them with her finger. “It looks like someone carved pictures into the trunk.”
The rest of us inch a little closer. “They’re animals!” Amanda exclaims. “Look, here’s an owl, here’s a duck … I’m not sure what this one is.”
“It’s a bunny,” Rory says grimly.
“These are spirit animals!” Tara says.
“I told you so!” Ray shouts over to us.
We ignore him.
“Each of them must be from someone who could control the vortex,” Tara says. “I bet we all know who the duck was!”
“Angelina!” we cry out at the same time.
“What’s yours, Grace?” Rory asks.
I look at Tara, and out at Ray. “I … I still don’t know.”
“It’s a lion,” Amanda says so quietly I almost don’t hear her.
“What did you say?” Rory asks.
“Grace’s spirit animal is a lion,” Amanda says, louder this time.
“How do you know that?” I ask.
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a yellow plastic lion with what looks like a toothpick stuck in the bottom of it.
“It’s the cupcake topper from the cupcake Rory brought me,” she says.
“There was a lion on a SpongeBob cupcake?” I ask.
She nods. “I figured it must have gotten mixed up with the one next to it.”
“I didn’t even notice when I bought the cupcake,” Rory says. “Why did you keep it? Why did you bring it?”
She glances over at the bench where Ray and Leo are, then says, “It’s kind of embarrassing. I collect things that remind me of Leo. You know, Leo the lion. The astrology sign?”
Amanda allows herself a peek at Leo, who is listening intently, his hands grasped together. She quickly looks back at me. “But, Grace, the lion wasn’t about Leo, it was about you.”
“How can you be sure?” I ask. “If I carve the wrong animal in the trunk, who knows what might happen.”
“I’m sure,” she says firmly. “Angelina told you guys to get me that cupcake, right?”
Rory and I exchange a look of surprise. “How did you know?” she asks.
“Come on, that move has Angelina written all over it. A SpongeBob cupcake when I needed to be reminded of what me and Leo mean to each other? And it just happens to have a random lion cupcake topper on it when you need to find a spirit animal, one that represents courage, strength, and power more than any other?”
“She’s right,” Tara says. “That would be too much of a coincidence. Do I even need to say it?”
I shake my head. “I know, I know. There are no coincidences in Willow Falls.”
“That’s the truth, sistah,” Tara says, bending down to pick up a pointy stick. “Now get carving.”
I do my best, but when I’m done the lion looks more like a fluffy kitten than a fierce king of the jungle. Hopefully it’s good enough. I lay the stick back down.
Amanda puts out her hand and I take it. Then I reach for Rory’s, and Rory reaches for Tara’s. Tara takes Amanda’s and the circle around the tree is complete.
“Brace yourselves,” I say. We all dig our feet back into the earth again and close our eyes. I focus on feeling like a lion, and wait until I actually feel the strength and courage of him within me. Then I thrust him out of me, and into the tree. I open my eyes. The carving no longer looks like a kitten. There’s no doubt now what it is. The others still have their eyes closed, unaware that I’ve set things in motion. Or at least I hope I have.
At first, nothing happens. Then it happens all at once. The wind howls as branches begin to unfurl themselves, slowly at first, then picking up speed, whipping over our heads. Our hair flies around our faces, but we don’t let go of one another’s hands. I see Ray and Leo jumping around in alarm, but they don’t dare get too close.
Apples fly off the branches in all directions, flinging themselves at our feet, bouncing off stones, filling the pathways of the labyrinth. I blink, and the tree is no longer a tree. It’s a swirling tunnel of pure energy, pure possibility. I can see inside it, to the calm part in the very center. In there lies the building blocks of the whole universe.
Energy waits to become matter, it waits for our choices to make reality solid. I finally understand what Angelina meant with her physics lesson. Everything is real, and nothing is real. This brings me a great sense of peace. As my connection to the vortex weakens, my body is filled with its own energy, and it shines out of every cell. This is the glow I see when I look at my friends and family. What I’ve always seen, if I only knew to look. This energy links us together, it binds us and protects us. It reminds us we are a part of a greater whole.
I feel a surge of gratitude and love for the brave girls beside me. I’m surprised to see their eyes are still shut, their faces a range of emotions. I squeeze their hands, and suddenly I’m where they are, seeing what they see, feeling what they feel. They are not here. They are in their futures, our futures.
The vortex is feeding them a great gift as its power quickly drains. The last few branches of the apple tree snap into place. The pulsing in the ground slows to a dull thump, and then to nothing at all. Somewhere, the energy is already building beneath a new town, where someone else will be chosen to wield it.
And me? I’m just a regular girl now, standing in front of a regu
lar tree, in a regular little town. But I have glimpsed the true nature of reality. Someday I’ll learn more, and I’ll share it. People will listen.
And they’ll understand they are part of something amazing.
One minute I’m holding my friends’ hands in the labyrinth, the next I’m on a sunny football field. But not a real one, it’s a movie set. I can tell because there are lights and boom microphones and people running around yelling “cut” and “send in the extras.” A group of actors in football uniforms are getting direction by a man in a backward baseball cap. I’m standing behind a row of sound equipment, so I can watch the scene being filmed without getting in the way. Jake must be one of the actors on the field! Otherwise, why would I be on a film set?
I glance around and find an empty chair with the words DIRECTOR — JAKE HARRISON printed on the back. I back away in surprise, then grin. He did it! He followed his dream and became a director!
A few seconds later, the group of actors breaks up, and the man in the baseball hat heads to the chair. He looks over at me and gives me a big grin and a thumbs-up before sitting down.
My heart flips over. It’s Jake, but he’s grown up! At least thirty or thirty-five, I can’t tell ages of old people. If he’s grown up, I must be, too. I glance down at my hands. I don’t register if they look older or not because I am mesmerized by the diamond ring and gold wedding band on my left hand.
Now my heart is really racing! We’re together! We’re married!!
“Action!” Jake shouts. The crowd immediately hushes up.
I catch my breath as a little boy, around four or five, runs across the field in an oversized football jersey that says PIRATES on it. At first I think it’s Sawyer. But it can’t be. If I’m grown up, he would be, too. As the boy gets closer, I can see he’s wearing an eye patch! I have to put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. The boy stops in front of the largest camera and says, “Go, Pirates!” The football players cheer and race onto the field.
“Cut!” Jake calls. “Print! Great job, everyone!”
The little boy beams, sees me, and starts running over. As he passes Jake, the two of them high-five, then the boy runs right into my arms. He’s beautiful.
“Mom!” the boy shouts up at me. “Guess what? Uncle Jake said I could keep my eye patch! Now I can be a pirate for Halloween!”
My heart speeds up. I’m a MOM! Uncle Jake? He said Uncle Jake! The boy breaks away from me and races toward a man in jeans and a T-shirt whose face I can’t see from this angle. “Dad!” he shouts. “Did you see my scene?”
The man says, “Of course, buddy! You were awesome!” He swings the boy up onto his shoulders and parades him around the set. I look down at my finger. This is the man who has my heart now, there’s no doubt. I feel a surge of love so powerful, it almost knocks me off my feet.
I look back over at Jake. He’s deep in discussion with a woman holding out a movie script. The scene begins to fade away. I try to reach out for something to hold on to, something to keep me grounded here, but all I feel are hands in mine. I look down, hoping it’s the boy’s hands, or the man’s, but they are gone.
I open my eyes. Tara and Amanda still have theirs closed, but Grace doesn’t. She beams at me, her face streaked with tears and dirt, her hair wild around her. She squeezes my hand, and I squeeze back, not daring to speak.
I blink fast, trying to focus. Something happened just now, something besides the vortex shutting down. I’m sure of it, but whatever it was has slipped away like the memory of a story you heard once a long time ago.
But it was a good story. A really, really good story. I know that much at least.
One minute I’m up to my ankles in dirt, then the next I’m seated in one of about five hundred gray folding chairs on a huge rolling lawn surrounded by immense white stone buildings. I’m in a light-blue dress and heels. Heels? Am I back at David’s bar mitzvah in the dress I borrowed from Amanda’s sister? But no, that doesn’t make sense. There’s no way this place is in Willow Falls.
I look down at my lap. Resting there is a white booklet that reads: MEDICAL SCHOOL GRADUATION CEREMONY.
“Isn’t this exciting?” a woman’s voice asks beside me. I turn toward her so quickly I get dizzy. It’s Grace! But she’s all grown up! At least twenty-two. That must mean I’m older than that! Her red hair isn’t quite as bright as when we were kids, and it’s shorter, but her eyes are sparkling and full of life.
“The Hamburglar has worked so hard for this,” a man says on the other side of Grace. Wait, it’s not a man, it’s Connor! Who I guess is a man now! He’s dressed more casually than everyone, in jeans and a button-down shirt. Pretty much the same outfit Uncle Roger used to wear every day, since he worked at home. “But no one knows that better than you, Tara, right?”
I force myself to smile, even though I have no idea what he’s talking about.
Grace puts her hand on mine. “I know it was rough there back in college, with you and David not being together for a while, and your dad getting sick, but I’m so glad you all pulled through it. You two belong together.”
My heart starts thumping. I know she said something about me and David, but all I can think is, My dad was sick? Will be sick? Is still sick? Is … not here anymore?
“My dad?” I squeak out.
“There they are!” Connor says. He stands up and waves at a group of people looking for seats. “Mr. and Mrs. Goldberg! Mr. and Mrs. Brennan! Over here!”
I practically weep with relief to see my parents — older but very much alive. Dad is walking with a cane, but other than that he looks perfectly healthy and still just as tall.
They catch sight of us and start making their way through the crowd. I watch as a man in the audience stands up in front of my dad and says something to him. I can’t hear what it is, though, but my dad nods and reaches into his pocket for something. His wallet maybe?
David’s mom arrives at our seats first. She is still so beautiful, maybe more so. Her curly hair is still dark, and she only has a few more wrinkles than she did when I met her.
She laughs and says to me, “Since the TV series based on his last book came out, your dad can’t go anywhere without signing autographs, Tara!”
So it wasn’t his wallet he’d reached for, it was a pen!
“I bet you have that trouble, too!” she continues, squeezing my arm.
Me? Why would anyone want my autograph?
She sits down and beams at the three of us. “There must be something in the water in Willow Falls,” she says. “Look at you all. One about to publish her fifth children’s book, one starting graduate school in physics, and one award-winning inventor.” She waves her booklet at the stage. “And my son, soon to be a doctor!”
My head begins to spin as they keep talking.
“Our other friends did pretty good for themselves, too,” Connor says.
“Yeah,” Grace says. “Remember my best friend, Bailey? She’s a costume designer for movies now, in Hollywood! And Amanda Ellerby just opened a music school for kids.”
Connor jumps in again. “Leo Fitzpatrick’s on his way to becoming the youngest mayor in Willow Falls history! And Rory just got back from helping to build new schools in Africa. I heard she met a guy there.”
“Really?” Grace asks, leaning forward. “What is he like?”
“How should I know?” Connor says, pinching his sister playfully on the arm. “Ask her yourself when they get here.”
I’m getting dizzy from turning back and forth between them so quickly. I want to savor each bite, but each piece of information is coming so quickly. My parents and David’s dad arrive next to take their seats. “David looks very handsome in his cap and gown,” my mom says, pointing at the row of graduates who have started to file into the empty seats in the first few rows. “Very distinguished, don’t you think?”
I scan the line, but at first I can’t find him. Then I realize I’m looking for the thirteen-year-old version of him. I start searching
from the front of the line again, but don’t get too far before Connor and Grace start whooping and laughing. My mom gasps. Dad says, “Whoa!” Mr. Goldberg says, “That’s my boy!”
Grace grabs my arm. “Finally!” she shouts.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Look!” She drags me to my feet and points at the graduates. The very last one is hanging back from the rest of the line a bit. He’s wearing wire-rimmed glasses, and I can see David’s dark hair peeking out from under the square graduation cap. And on the top of the cap are written five words.
“Tara, will you marry me?”
First comes the smell, the overwhelming smell of apples on the breeze. For a minute, I think it must be coming from the vortex, but even though I can still feel my feet in the earth, I know I’m not in the circle anymore.
After the smell come the voices. Little voices, boys and girls. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Grandpa and Grandma, happy birthday to you!”
Then someone fiddles with the back of my head and I realize they’re untying a blindfold.
“Here we are, Mom and Dad,” a woman’s voice says. “What do you think?”
I blink as my eyes take in the scene. I’m still in Apple Grove, only it looks very, very different. The mall in the distance is now a gleaming white circular building. There’s a large clearing in the middle of the grove with picnic tables and decorations. Our baby trees are fully grown, all but one now bearing ripe, red apples. An old man is standing beside me, blinking and beaming. He has kind, loving, mischievous eyes and a sprig of blue flowers pinned to his shirt. I realize with a jolt that it’s Leo!
“You’re so old!” I blurt out. My voice doesn’t sound like mine. It sounds like my grandmother’s!
Leo laughs. “If I’m old, what does that make you?”
The laughter spreads to the group of smiling faces around us. Faces I don’t recognize, from middle-aged down to three or four. Wait, that woman’s nose looks like my mom’s nose. And that man’s smile is exactly like Leo’s. With another jolt it hits me that these people are my children and grandchildren! Leo is my husband! And we’re old! REALLY old! Like, sixty-five!
