May Bird and the Ever After

by Jodi Lynn Anderson

  She wondered about the Lady of North Farm. The way her mom looked at her, like she’d grown a second head, made it seem very important that somewhere, somebody said they needed her. Even if that seemed impossible. It was enticing to think that someone thought she was good enough to be needed.

  It made her long to see the lake again, a feeling so strange, it made May feel like she had grown three heads.

  About half an hour after midnight, May was huddled in her tepee, reading the Encyclopedia of the Supernatural while cuddling Somber Kitty under one arm. She was just turning the page, when she heard her door creak open. She froze, not even daring to turn her head.

  A shadow approached the tepee, looming large against the walls, and May felt her body going cold. A shadow hand reached out and closed around the blanket.

  May couldn’t hold back. She screamed and rolled sideways, knocking the tepee over. It fell around her as she howled, getting more and more tangled in the blankets. A moment later, hands yanked the blanket off. There was her mother, her brown eyes wide. There was no sign of a ghost anywhere.

  “We’re packing your things first thing in the morning,” Mrs. Bird said stiffly. “We’ll stay at a hotel and make plans for New York.” She paused, shook her head, and rubbed at her eyelids. “I can’t do this anymore, May.”

  May sank onto her back, tears crawling out of the sides of her eyes and winding down her cheeks. Her mom merely tightened her lips and left the room.

  It was a half hour or more before May wiped her eyes, stood up, and tiptoed into the hallway. Her mother’s door at the other end of the hall was closed, and the light was out. Letting out a ragged sigh, May crept up the stairs to the attic, keeping an eye out for ghosts.

  May looked out the east window, pressing her face against it and getting new tears on the glass. The woods stared back at her like an old friend. New York City seemed like a million miles away. It seemed like the moon.

  “Mew?” Even Somber Kitty seemed to know he should whisper. May picked him up and held him tight. They both peered into the night.

  “What do we do?” she murmured, touching cheek to whiskers. Just faintly she could see a blue glow beyond the trees, flickering.

  “Meow,” Somber Kitty replied, which meant “I don’t know.”

  “I’m not feeling very brave,” May sighed quietly.

  Then she put her cat on the floor and tiptoed down to her room to sleep.

  At the foot of May’s bed Somber Kitty slept soundly, curled in a Cheez Doodle shape, dreaming of a field full of moths to catch. His paws twitched contentedly, swiping at this and that fluttering insect, putting them in his mouth to chew on. May, on the other hand, lay in her favorite black silky pajama top with her eyes wide open, staring at the dragonfly wind chimes above her bed. She flopped back and forth on the bed, her legs splaying one way and her arms another, the sweat gathering at the backs of her knees and the crease above her lips. In her hand she clutched her letter.

  Quietly, so she wouldn’t wake the cat, May rose. She went to her drawer and pulled out her black sparkly bathing suit. If she was going to face what was in the lake, she was going like a warrior.

  Once she was dressed, May reached up to her shelf and plucked a quartz rock from the group, slipping it into her pocket for luck. She grabbed a flashlight from its hook beside her binoculars. She grabbed all of her ghost supplies: her silver and onyx and salt. Finally, she tucked her mysterious letter into her pocket.

  Outside, the stars were shining in full force. May stopped on the lawn and looked at her house. In the light of the moon, it seemed to glow. Its crooked lines and sinking roof and the additions tacked on at every angle showed up extra bright. She had the sick, belly-aching feeling she’d never see it again.

  “Don’t be silly,” she said under her breath.

  She turned and continued across the grass.

  The trees were black slashes standing up from the ground until May was standing close to them, at the edge of the woods. Peering in, she could see the occasional lightning bug, up past bedtime, looking for a mate.

  Before she stepped into the line of the trees, she took one last look toward home and sucked in a breath.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Light Underwater

  The lake was a glossy black hole, completely still. May stood just at the edge of the clearing, shining her flash-light on its surface, then on the surrounding area, looking for signs of movement. Navigating the briers had been easier tonight, knowing what was at the end of them, but her legs still itched from where she’d pricked herself. She bent down and rubbed at her calves gently.

  Suddenly there was a rustle in the bushes behind her, and she swiveled around, pointing her light at a group of shrubs that shook back and forth.

  A small figure emerged from behind them.

  “Kitty!”

  Somber Kitty waddled up to her and rubbed against her shins. May lifted him up, walked him to the bushes, and dropped him in. She pointed over his head, and he followed the line of her finger with his eyes. “Go home. Home.”

  “Meow.”

  “Don’t play dumb with me.” She stomped her foot. “You’re gonna get hurt. Home.”

  But Somber Kitty wouldn’t budge. “Fine,” she said. “But you stay there.”

  May turned and started toward the lake.

  “Ouch!” She leaped into the air, grabbing onto her foot with one hand and jumping up and down. Her flashlight went tumbling. “Kitty!”

  She sank onto the ground and stared at her foot, disbelieving. Two twin lines of blood dripped down the back of her heel.

  “What’d you do that for?!”

  Somber Kitty sat down beside her and meowed pitifully. But he also tilted his chin up in the air defiantly. “Meow. Meay.”

  “Go home!” May yelled. She leaped to her feet and took a few running steps at the cat, sending him scuttling backward. But he turned around at the bushes and started to creep back toward her. “Meow?”

  “Leave me alone, Somber Kitty! Go home!” She waved both arms at him as if she meant to hit him. Finally he went zipping back into the briers, disappearing down the path.

  May crossed her arms and waited for him to come back, her foot aching.

  Nothing.

  “Go home!” she hollered again, but it didn’t seem to be any use. Somber Kitty had gone.

  “Kitty?”

  May chewed on her thumbnail. She hoped he would find his way home okay. She picked up her flashlight from where it had landed, to look for her ghost items, which she’d dropped in the fray. But just when she did, the light died.

  May shook it furiously a few times. “No,” she moaned, her heart drumming. How would she ever find her way back home?

  She turned and looked back toward the lake. Now in the dark, and with Somber Kitty gone, she felt very alone. She ought to try to catch up with him. But now when she turned to face home, she could see a very dim glow coming toward her through the woods.

  She backed toward the lake, panting, until she was just on the edge of the water. Her heels touched the liquid coolness. Click.

  May turned. With a sound like a giant light switch being turned on, the lake had come completely aglow.

  Mesmerized, May took a few steps sideways, then stood at the edge of the water, looking down. She forgot about what might be behind her. Looking down was like watching a giant television. Way down in the water, someone—or something—was swimming. The figure got larger and larger, as if it was coming from somewhere very deep, toward the surface.

  Something in May told her she should get away, but her feet stayed rooted to the spot. The figure looked to be a woman, now that she was closer. A beautiful woman with hair down to her toes that swirled in all directions as she stroked upward. She flipped and twisted as gracefully as a water dancer.

  When she was only a few feet away, her eyes met May’s, and she smiled. The woman came right up to the surface of the water, resting just below it. She beamed at May for a moment
more, the most gorgeous vision May had ever seen. May herself had never felt so beautiful, or so lit up, or so happy. The woman’s smile seemed to say, I see you. I understand you. I know.

  And then her body began to widen and grow. As May watched, dazzled, it stretched into eight glowing points. Her eyes still locked on May’s, the woman’s smile widened, revealing not teeth, but fangs. A hot arrow of fear shot down May’s back. She started to pull away. But not before one arm shot out of the water, grabbed her by the leg, and yanked her in.

  As she was dragged farther and farther downward, May’s lungs felt like they were going to burst. She could still feel the woman’s hands around her legs, but she couldn’t see her shape anymore. She was just a glow as bright as the sun, pulling her down, down, down, down, down. Down farther than May thought any lake could go. It felt like she was being pulled to the center of the Earth.

  Then her vision started to go black, and her lungs relaxed, and May let go of the hope of reaching the world above. She stopped struggling. Her arms floated up in surrender. The light started to fade away.

  And then she saw it—another tiny glow, way above her. As it got closer, she could see it was coming from the horrible ghost with the lopsided head. He was plunging toward her, his long bony hands reaching out to grab her.

  Just as he reached her, May’s vision went black.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Beginning

  Way back in the woods, behind a patch of briers that stretched almost a mile wide in each direction, the only lake in Briery Swamp glowed and flashed like lightning. Around it, not a single critter could be seen. The fire flies had swarmed off. The insects, the night birds, the snakes, and the lizards had crawled or flown or scurried to other safer parts. The only movement came from a skinny, hairless cat who was slowly creeping out from underneath the thorn bushes.

  Keeping low to the ground, mewing softly and sadly, Somber Kitty squiggled himself like a snake, up to the edge of the water.

  “Meay?” he asked softly in a whisper. Nothing came back from the water except for the eerie twinkling light. Somber Kitty gingerly touched one paw to the water, then snatched it back, shaking off the wetness. He looked behind him, back to the path that led out of the briers.

  Somber Kitty appeared to be caught in an argument with himself. Finally he tilted his chin down stubbornly, raised his ears and tail so that they shook with warlike energy, bared his teeth, crouched, and—snapping like a rubber band Finny Elway would have shot at Claire Arneson—went splashing into the water. He came up once, paddling madly. And then he disappeared beneath the surface.

  Behind Somber Kitty, Briery Swamp remained silent. The lights of the lake flickered out. An owl landed on a nearby tree and let out a hoot. Critters trickled back to the sound of nibbling leaves.

  In the woods of the swamp, all appeared to be normal. There was no one to notice what had been lost.

  PART TWO

  The Ever After

  CHAPTER NINE

  A Faraway Shore

  When May opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed were the leaves. And that she was still alive.

  “Ouch,” she whispered, rubbing at her face. She sat up and squinted at the brightness around her, fearful and dazed as she tried to focus on the leafy branch above her, which seemed to be waving at her for attention. Beyond it a pair of eyes—or were they just spots of sky showing through?—were watching her. May squinted harder, but in another moment the leaves rearranged themselves in the breeze, then nothing.

  That’s when May finally noticed where she was. She was on the shore of the lake. It all came back to her.

  “That’s weird,” she whispered. She remembered falling in. She didn’t remember swimming out of the water and crawling onto the shore. All she remembered was the cold, strong hands around her legs and at the last minute, the ghost—from her house—reaching out to grab her. She shuddered. Had she imagined it?

  May stood slowly, her bones aching. Her body felt flattened and doughy, like it had been stuck in a waffle iron. Why was it so light out? Had she slept all night? Her stomach turned over. “Mom.”

  She searched behind her for the trampled brush that would mark the way she’d come in, but no path presented itself. May nibbled on her fingers. Her mom would be furious. She took a step closer to the woods and . . .

  “Ah!”

  Someone—or something—was crouching in the bushes in front of her. May stumbled back into the clearing just as the ghost from White Moss Manor rose and drifted forward.

  He put one finger up in front of his jagged white lips and shook his transparent head. He was shaking slightly.

  May held out her hands in a stop motion, fear making her legs tremble like kite strings. “Leave me alone.”

  The creature bit on a finger, then looked around. “Shhhh. Oh, my. Don’t get too close to that water. Sh-Sh-She’ll come back for you.”

  May blinked at him for a moment in shock that he had spoken, then recovered herself. “Leave me alone!”

  The creature flinched, then widened his sad, droopy eyes at her. “Please. You’re going to get us into trouble. There’s s-s-something even worse. They may be on their way already.

  May didn’t bother waiting around to hear the rest. She darted across the clearing and burst into the trees. A moment later she emerged onto the clearing. She came to a dead stop, sucking in her breath. The lake lay before her, glossy and still. The woods she had just run into lay in front of her. The creature stood where she’d left him, peering into the woods all around them nervously. “It won’t work. You’ll never get out that way. Now come with . . .” He drifted in her direction.

  May shook her head. “Stay away!”

  She scrambled around the side of the lake and across the clearing toward the trees again, pushing into the underbrush. She just needed to get home. Once she got home . . .

  And there she was again. Right back at the clearing.

  May shook her head hard, then started toward a giant elm and a stand of pine trees. She put her arms out in front of her to move the low branches aside, this time going a bit more slowly. A few more branches pushed aside and . . . there was the lake.

  May’s lips started to quiver. Something was wrong. Something was very horribly wrong.

  All the while the creature watched her, his great head tilted to one side, his fingers digging into his chin.

  “You’ve got to come with me,” he said. “Th-Th-This is a dangerous place.”

  “No!”

  May tried to run into the woods three more times, each time her heart thudding a little bit faster, each time returning to the lake. “It’s impossible,” she whispered. Tears trembled on her eyelashes.

  The creature floated toward her again, reaching out his long skinny arms. “Please don’t cry. Crying always sets off the detector.”

  “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

  He frowned, his horrible gash of a mouth turning downward. “Ohhh, maybe we should start over. I’m Pumpkin. I’m trying to help you!”

  May backed away a step, wondering if maybe she was dreaming.

  A sound made the creature called Pumpkin stop and look toward the trees on the opposite side of the lake. May thought she heard it too. It sounded like dogs barking.

  “The Black Shucks,” Pumpkin hissed, his droopy eyes widening in terror. “Oh, my. The Bogey’s coming for you!” His whole body began to shake, his feet hovering above the ground unevenly. “Come on!”

  Pumpkin reached out a long arm again, his fingers outstretched toward her. May gazed around at the trees. It was definitely the sound of dogs, but snarling, growling dogs, like dogs closing in on their prey. And something else that made May’s blood run cold. A crack crack crack, like the sound of a whip. Every hair on her body stood up on end.

  She looked back at Pumpkin.

  “Come where?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Through the door. Ohhh. We’ve got to hurry.”

  “I do
n’t see a door.”

  Pumpkin rolled his eyeballs around. “That’s why ones like you never make it out. Come on!”

  Pumpkin zipped to the edge of the woods, pulled some branches aside and revealed, to May’s amazement, a black door. It seemed to stand on nothing, and to lead nowhere, except that there was a small gap across the top, emitting a bluish light. Across the middle, it read in big, red letters ALL DEAD THIS WAY.

  May gasped. Beyond the trees the sound of dogs had gotten louder.

  Pumpkin raised his hand to the door, then lowered it to his lips for a moment, muttering to himself: “Knockitty knock? Knockitty knockitty?” He raised his fist back to the door and knocked out a strange rhythm.

  The door creaked open, revealing not the forest behind it but a big, dark, empty space. A faint shimmer of light came from the inside, like the flicker of a television screen.

  “I’m not going in there,” May said, backing up and shaking her head. “And I’m not going with you. I’m going home.”

  There was a loud yelp off in the distance. Pumpkin snapped his head to look, then he looked back at May, his eyes huge. “This is the only way! Hurry!”

  The sound had gotten so loud that May’s ears started to hurt. “Wh-What’s coming?” she yelled above the din.

  The Pumpkin creature put his hand up to his ear. “What?” he shouted.

  “Who is it that’s coming?!”

  Crack crack crack. Way back in the woods, May could hear the sound of wood splintering and trees falling. The barking and yelping continued to grow louder. She found herself sidling closer to Pumpkin until she bumped into him with a cold shock, then swiveled toward him. She didn’t want to be too close to him, but she also didn’t want to be near whatever was coming through the woods.

  “Why should I trust you?” she cried.

  Pumpkin shifted back and forth, drifting this way and that, wringing his hands. “You have to.”