“I think about it a lot,” Raven said.
“Have you talked to your mother?”
“No.”
She stopped walking and faced Raven. “I spoke with the principal at the school. Remember I told you that’s the person who makes decisions?”
Raven nodded.
“I’ve told her about you—how advanced your homeschooling has been—and she says she would be willing to let you into second grade. You’d only have to take a few easy tests to prove you can do second-grade work.”
“Would I be with Jackie?”
“He’s a year older, going into third grade. You would be with children your age in second grade.”
“Would I see him?”
“You would see him on the playground. And Huck, Reece, and Chris, too.” She smiled. “There aren’t many girls your age who can keep up with a pack of older boys like you did today. I’m confident the playground will be easy for you. All of school will be.”
Raven wanted to go. She wanted the playground. She even wanted the hard reading and math and tests the boys talked about. She wanted to show everyone she was smart.
“I could talk to your mother about it,” Ms. Taft said.
Raven wasn’t worried she would force a meeting anymore. She’d let Raven come over all summer without talking to Mama. But it couldn’t happen. Just getting in the gate would be a problem. And the alarms. And Mama’s surprise when she found out Ms. Taft was Raven’s friend. She sometimes thought Ms. Taft knew her better than Mama did. That hurt and felt good at the same time.
“Okay, I can see you don’t want me to talk to her,” Ms. Taft said. “But please try yourself.”
When Raven remained quiet, she said, “I know you want this, Raven. You’re young, but you have a right to ask for what you want.”
Ask for what you want. Raven knew what she would do. She would do the Asking. She would ask the earth spirits to help her. If Mama could ask for a baby and get one, couldn’t her daughter ask for school and get it?
“It’s getting dark. You’d better go,” Ms. Taft said.
She walked Raven the rest of the way to the fence. Inside the house, the boys burst into laughter. Raven looked at the golden light in the windows of the little yellow house. She wondered what funny thing had been said and who’d said it. Probably Reece. He could always make people laugh.
“Someday you’ll have a sleepover,” Ms. Taft said.
Raven saw no way that could happen.
Ms. Taft took her in her arms and held her. She did that sometimes since they had learned they could trust each other. Raven held her tight, breathing in the last sweet smells of her and the house for the day. “Ms. Taft . . .”
“Yes?”
“Sometimes I wish I lived here.”
Ms. Taft held Raven out in her arms. Tears colored with pink sky wet her eyes. “It’s okay to wish that. Sometimes I wish you did, too.”
Raven’s chest hurt. Like it was pressing too hard on her heart. She slipped through the fence boards and ran. She was far away when she realized she’d forgotten to say goodbye.
9
Jackie and Huck couldn’t play. The day after the party, they went to the doctor and shopped for school clothes and supplies. The next day, they had to go to school with their mom while she set up her classroom.
Raven cooked and cleaned with Mama. They discussed her lessons and took walks as they always did. Mama didn’t seem to notice that Raven was staying home more in recent days. Even when she was in the same room with Raven, part of her lived in the spirit world. Raven felt more alone than she used to when Mama was away with the spirits. She hadn’t known anything was missing from those solitary hours until she met the boys. Their absence was a hollow kind of hurting. It made Raven more certain about making an Asking to go to school.
During her walks with Mama, Raven questioned her to make sure there wasn’t more to be learned about how to do an Asking. Mama said she must feel a very strong conviction and confidence in what she wanted. Raven knew she would have no problem with that. She wanted to go to school with the boys and Ms. Taft more than anything.
Mama said once she knew with all her soul what she wanted, the most important part of an Asking was a deep connection to the earth’s energy. She told Raven she certainly had that. Mama had started bringing Raven outdoors when she was a little baby. She had put rocks in her tiny fists and let her taste their elemental power. She had carried her up mountains to let her breathe in the scents of the many spirits that lived there. She had rested her on the ground and let tree spirits sing her into sleep.
“Other people put their babies in little prisons called cribs and playpens,” Mama had told her. “They keep them locked inside their houses. Your crib and playpen were woods, creeks, and fields. Your one cradle was my arms—but only until you could walk. When you were strong, I set you free.”
“I went into the woods alone when I was a baby?” Raven asked.
“No, Daughter. You needed many lessons before you could be left alone. I guided you in the ways of the earth, teaching you what was dangerous and what was good. But while I gave you those lessons, I mostly let you wander. I would test you every day to make sure you knew how to return home.”
“When did I first go out alone?”
“Just before you turned six,” she said. “Don’t you remember that day?”
“The day I left early in the morning when you were asleep?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling. “Do you remember what you brought to me when you returned home?”
“A raccoon skull.”
She nodded. “The earth spirits were speaking to me through that gift. They said Daughter of Raven was ready to wander like a bold and clever raccoon.”
Mama still had that skull. It was on the bone table. That was where they kept the skulls, bones, teeth, carapaces, and shells she used to teach Raven about animals.
The second day after the party at Jackie’s house, Raven made her first Asking for school. She did it on the shore of the creek where she’d first met Jackie, Huck, and Reece. Her Asking for the boys to return had been there, and it had been answered very well.
The next day, Raven did another Asking. She made it close to the house to be near Mama while she cooked lunch, hoping its nearness might influence her with more strength. She put all of her wanting into the Asking. Jackie and the boys started school the next day. She would have to talk to Mama that night.
Fortunately, Mama was in a good mood that day. Raven helped her harvest vegetables from the garden and cook them for supper. But she could hardly eat because her stomach was quivery.
When they were almost done eating, she said, “Mama . . . ?”
Mama saw she was afraid. Her star-colored eyes seemed to look straight into Raven’s heart.
“What do you want to say, Daughter of Raven?”
Already she sounded almost angry. As if she knew it all before Raven had said it.
Raven thought of Ms. Taft saying, “You’re young, but you have a right to ask for what you want.”
“I want to go to school,” Raven said.
Mama’s eyes looked like they did when Aunt Sondra talked about school. “You already go to school,” she said.
“I want to go where the other children go to school.”
“Why would you want this? Are my lessons not enough?”
“They’re good lessons! I know more than most kids my age.”
Mama jumped to her feet. “Who told you that? Who have you been talking to?”
Raven froze, unable to speak. Mama’s eyes. They looked so cold, more like ice than starlight.
“Who have you been talking to?” Mama shouted.
“I haven’t—”
“Don’t lie to me! I have never heard you say that word kids before! Where did you hear it?”
Raven thought of Jackie. She would not let Mama keep her from him.
She stood. “I met a boy.”
“A boy! Where?”
/> “He came to swim at the big pool in the creek.”
“When was this?”
“I don’t know. When Baby was in her nest.”
“Was the boy with another boy?”
“Two others.”
“Did one have red hair?”
“Yes.”
“I saw them there last summer,” Mama said. “I let them be because they have as much right to earth’s gifts as we do. You should have let them be as well. I’ve told you this!”
“You never told me I can’t talk to people. You only said not to talk about earth spirits and my father.”
“And you didn’t?”
“I know not to, Mama!”
“How long did you speak to them? Why would they tell you to go to school?”
“I made friends with them. That’s why they want me to go to their school.”
Mama stepped closer, her eyes so cold Raven could feel their chill. “Friendship doesn’t happen in one meeting.”
“It did happen in one meeting. I wanted to see them again. I wanted it so bad, I did an Asking.”
Her eyes went wide. “An Asking!”
“Yes, and I used my hair. The most powerful tool. And it worked. I bonded them to me.”
Mama’s mouth hung open.
Her surprise made Raven feel strong. “I go to their house,” she said. “I made friends with their mother. She’s a teacher at the school. She told me I’m far in my lessons. She said I can go to second grade.”
The storm in Mama’s eyes was as bad as Raven had ever seen.
“You went to their house and spoke to their mother?” she shouted. “This is reckless! She might have stolen you and made you live with terrible people!”
“She doesn’t know anything about the spirits. None of them does! Like you said!”
“Yes, and you’ll become like them! You’ll want nothing but TVs and video games! They’ll undo everything I’ve taught you!”
“They won’t! I’m good at what you taught me. I work hard at it. Yesterday and today I did Askings!”
“For what did you ask twice?”
“To go to school.”
“To influence me to let you go to school?”
“Yes.”
“You would use my spiritual knowledge against me?” she shouted.
Raven’s heart pounded so hard, it made her body shudder. She wanted to run away from Mama’s fury. But she thought of Jackie and tried to be strong.
“Mama . . . you said I should practice. You said when I knew with all my soul what I wanted, I could make an Asking.”
“You’re a child who doesn’t know what her soul wants!” she shouted. “But even worse, you’ve been lying to me all these days! I saw something was different with you, but I thought it was maturity. And all this time it was these stupid boys!”
“They aren’t stupid! They’re smart and they’re nice!”
“Get away from me!” she shouted. “I want you out of my sight!”
She had never said that. Not in the worst of her moods. Tears seemed to squeeze out of Raven’s heart all the way up to her eyes.
“I said go!” Mama screamed.
Raven ran out of the house. Toward the stream. She had good moonlight to see by.
She stopped running when her feet stung from pounding over stones and sticks. She had only socks on. She walked to the stream and sat on the bank with her knees under her chin.
She didn’t understand how two Askings she’d made with all her soul could have gone so bad. Mama hadn’t been at all giving. Not the tiniest bit. It made no sense. She was the daughter of a powerful earth spirit. Why hadn’t he helped her?
She got up and walked to the place where she’d made her first Asking to go to school. Moonlight glowed upon her careful arrangement of stones, flowers, and leaves. She kicked and made it all scatter.
She stepped into the creek and walked downstream. The water was cold, made her feet numb. When she came to the Wolfsbane, she walked to its front side. The moon shined on it. The deer skull in the TV shined brightest because it was white, and the black holes of its eye sockets were a little scary in the moonlight. Raven thought maybe the deer spirit was mad at her for using Mama’s spiritual knowledge against her.
She looked at Madonna’s face, but it was almost too dark with moss to see. Raven took off one of her wet socks and gently scrubbed at the moss on the lady’s face until she could see it. When she was done, Madonna’s face glowed pale gray. It had creek water shining on it like tears. She looked as sad as Raven felt.
“I only wanted to go to school like everyone else,” Raven told her. “I thought Mama would see that if I told her about the Askings. She would know I wanted school as much as she wanted a baby.”
Madonna had nothing to say.
The creek was the only spirit in the forest that spoke to what Raven had said. Its trickle sounded like it always did, in a hurry to go where it was going. It didn’t seem mad at her, but it didn’t comfort her either. Creek water moved too fast to much care about anything it passed.
A dog barked far away in the direction of Jackie’s house. Raven thought of the werewolf. Since she’d gotten to know the boys, she’d learned a werewolf was a person who turned into a wolf on nights of the full moon. It was only a made-up story, the boys said. But if they believed it wasn’t real, why had they built the Wolfsbane to scare away the werewolf?
The dog kept barking. Raven wanted her bed. She was cold. The warmth of summer had gone away with the boys.
She looked toward home. Mama had told her to go from her sight. Raven couldn’t go back or even be seen.
She walked toward Jackie’s house. When she got to the fence between Hooper and Taft land, she sat in the tall grass. She stayed on Hooper’s side, looking through the fence at the glowing windows of Jackie’s house.
She woke shaking with chills. She couldn’t stop her jaw from bouncing her teeth together. They rattled like a woodpecker drumming on wood.
Jackie’s house was dark. Only the front porch light was on. Raven imagined Jackie asleep in his bed with the fake stars shining over him. She imagined getting under his blanket and feeling how warm he was. She imagined him saying, “It’s okay, Raven. Everything will be okay.”
She slid through the fence rails. She was so cold, she could hardly think what to do. She only could go to Jackie.
The moon shined down on his little yellow house like it was a pretty drawing in a book. She walked quietly to the back door. It was locked. She went to the rooster statue where they hid the key and found it underneath. Her hand was shaking so much, she could hardly get the key in the lock.
The heat in the house felt good. Raven crept toward the stairs, trying not to creak the old wood floors. Ms. Taft slept in the big bedroom downstairs. Jackie and Huck were in the small rooms upstairs. Raven made it to the stairs without making any noise, but the steps squeaked a few times as she went up.
Jackie’s door was open, and a little light was on in the bathroom he shared with Huck. She went in Jackie’s room and softly closed the door behind her.
“Jackie,” she whispered, touching his arm.
“What?” he said in a sleepy voice.
“I’m cold,” she said.
He sat up and looked at her. “Raven?”
“Shh!”
“What are you doing here?”
“I asked my mother if I could go to school.”
“What happened?”
“She got mad. She said to get out of her sight.”
He stared at her, his face white in the moonlight.
“I’m so cold. Can I come under the blanket?”
“You’ve been outside all night?”
“Yes.”
“We need to tell my mom!”
“No! She’ll take me home! There will be a big fight!”
“Raven—”
“Please don’t tell her! I only want to get warm for a little while.”
He moved back in the bed and held up
the covers. She took off her soaked socks and lay down with her back to him. He dropped the covers over her. It felt so good.
“You’re wet,” he said.
“From the creek and grass.”
“Are you shaking?”
“Yes.”
He put his arm around her. “Is that better?”
“Yes.”
They didn’t say anything for a long time. Her shaking stopped.
“Why aren’t your stars shining?” she asked.
“They absorb light and lose it after a while at night.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
She was glad real stars didn’t lose their light.
“What will we say in the morning?” he asked.
“I’ll leave before your mom sees me.”
“We should tell her.”
“No.”
The soft whir of heat blowing into the room made her sleepy.
“I guess you finally got your sleepover,” he said.
“I wanted it to be fun,” she said, almost crying.
He pulled her in tighter. “Well, it’s nice . . . that you’re here.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah. I always wanted you to stay over.”
She would never be able to again. She would have to be like the stars on his ceiling, absorb the glowy feeling for as long as it lasted. After that, everything would go dark. Probably forever.
She fell asleep before she got to absorb enough of being with Jackie in his room at night. She woke to the smell of coffee and the sound of Ms. Taft clinking dishes downstairs. The sun was already making the sky gray.
She climbed out of the bed and looked down the stairs. She was trapped. Ms. Taft would see her if she tried to leave. She went back to Jackie’s room and closed the door, sitting on his beanbag chair, watching him sleep. She put on her socks, now mostly dry.
The stairs creaked. Ms. Taft was coming. Raven ran into the closet and closed the door.
She heard Ms. Taft in Huck’s room saying, “Time to get up, Huck. First day of school. You have a really great teacher this year.”
Huck made a sleepy, groaning sound. He acted like he didn’t want his mother to be his teacher, but Raven had figured out that he and Reece were glad about it. Raven would give anything to have lessons with Ms. Taft.
The Light Through the Leaves Page 13
