May Bird and the Ever After

by Jodi Lynn Anderson

  An ear-splitting crash drew her attention back to the woods. Several of the farthest trees she could see were falling to the left and right, as if something huge and vicious were plowing through them. May and Pumpkin flinched as the trees fell. Whatever it was was making its way straight toward the clearing. May’s knobby knees began to falter underneath her.

  And then a set of cold white hands were around her arm, sending zaps like electricity running up and down her body. May lost her breath. In an instant she was being yanked through the door as it slammed shut behind her.

  Beyond the edge of the trees, the crashing came to an abrupt halt. Loud sniffs and growls shook the leaves on the trees, but no creature appeared on the shore of the lake. There was a moment of listening, sniffing silence, and then whatever it had been, retreated slowly through the woods, sending the smaller trees toppling like toothpicks behind it.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Make the Most of Your Eternity!”

  In the clearing, for a moment it was hard to tell whether the rippling on the lake had been made by the echoes of falling trees, or something unseen underneath the surface. But as the seconds passed, the ripples grew larger, and a dark form took shape as it drifted upward and burst into the open air with a splutter.

  The creature sneezed and spat and paddled its way to the shore, dragging its long skinny body along the ground and collapsing there like a piece of gum that had seen one too many chews. Its face was strikingly sad and melancholy, but this was not unusual.

  Somber Kitty was limp and half-dead. His big pointy ears lay flat and his skinny tail sagged on the dirt like the top of a deflated exclamation mark. He lay between life and death for several seconds. And then his nose began to twitch.

  Pushing himself up onto wobbly legs, Somber Kitty sniffed harder. He stumbled several times as he followed May’s path—across the dirt, into the trees, and up to a closed door.

  He reached out one gentle paw and scratched at the door. He sniffed it again, then scratched again. He stood on his hind legs and sniffed higher and with more urgency.

  Behind him the lake began to bubble. But Somber Kitty didn’t notice. He was too sure that May was getting farther and farther away.

  May turned to look at the door she had just come through, but it was no longer there. All that remained was a small gap with a sign below it reading: VIEW OF THE WATER DEMON IN ITS NATURAL HABITAT. She gulped and swiveled around, blinking while her eyes adjusted to the darkness. They were in a dark, flickering hallway. Pumpkin still had his cold, trembling hand around her arm, zapping her with tiny shocks of electricity. May yanked herself free.

  His giant eyes drooped a look at her, and his white cheeks flushed pink. “Sorry.” He stuck a finger in his mouth and looked down the hall. “We’re safe now. They’ll think the demon’s gotten you, after all. Come back to finish the job.” Pumpkin shivered. Before May could ask who the “they” was, he spoke again. “I think the only way out is there,” he whispered. “It’s very important no one sees you. Come on.” He drifted down the hall and stopped at a door on the right. The blue light she had noticed seemed to be coming from the room that lay beyond it, flashing patterns on Pumpkin’s ghastly face. He looked back at her expectantly.

  May stayed where she was, rooted to the spot. Her heart, which was still beating hard, told her to wait. He floated back toward her.

  “If you stay here, May, you’ll be caught.”

  May checked behind her one last time, then pushed on the wall. It didn’t budge. At a loss she followed Pumpkin back down the hall, and they both peered through the flickering doorway.

  They were at the entrance of an old-fashioned movie theater, complete with a squeaky projector that cast a long thread of light out over rows of seats filled with figures May couldn’t quite make out in the dark. The whole place smelled dusty, as if it hadn’t been used in a hundred years.

  May shrunk to the left of the door, eyeing her companion side-ways. He kept his gaze locked forward, his whole body trembling. She let her attention move to the movie in front of them.

  Up on-screen a thin man in a butler’s suit was in the middle of saying something. His face was horribly pale, and his eyes were sunken and dark, his whole body as transparent as Pumpkin’s. May looked around her again, trying to make out the others in their seats, and then back at the screen. She shivered.

  “Please look carefully at this list of items that are not allowed into the Ever After. If you are carrying any of these, please hand them over to the nearest greeter.”

  A series of pictures flashed on the screen, showing horseshoes, bags of salt, brooms, then a giant picture of all sorts of animals standing in a group, surrounded by a red circle with a slash across the middle.

  “Please note that all animals are strictly prohibited. If you and your pet died together, please have that pet out for confiscation when you leave the theater.”

  “You’ll notice there are four exits from the theater.” The man in the butler’s suit moved his hands to indicate where they were. His voice was like crushed ice. “At the front and on either side. All evildoers—rogues; scoundrels; nasty pieces of work; baddies; and menaces, including masked ones—please exit through the front so that you can be moved to the proper area. All others please exit through the side doors where you will be aided by one of our greeters. They will help you choose from a wide array of regions.” The man smiled. “Also, please don’t forget to take one of the brochures provided for you at the gates.” The camera panned back to take in the man’s full body, revealing a knife handle sticking out of his shirt. He bowed.

  The movie ended with a great flapping sound as the film in the projector ran out. The screen went black, but the glow remained. The whole room stayed full of soft blue light. And it seemed to be coming from the audience members. As they stood up and began moving toward the exits, May noticed that they all drifted a few inches above the ground. She bit her lip. Tears snuck out to the corners of her eyeballs. What was this place? Was she? . . . May didn’t dare to finish the thought.

  “Oooooh, come on,” Pumpkin groaned, continuing on down the hall to a door marked ALLEY. Beside it, a bony hand stuck out of the wall, holding a fistful of scrolled-up papers. Above the hand a sign read TAKE ONE! May did. The hand readjusted itself, tightening around the remaining papers.

  Pumpkin opened the door a crack, peered outside, and then waved May forward. She followed him, and they emerged onto a tiny brick alleyway.

  “Oh, I knew I should have stayed in bed this morning. I’m not cut out for this. We’ve got to get onto a boat,” Pumpkin said, floating ahead. He stopped just where the alleyway ended, and waited for May to catch up. When she did, and looked at what lay ahead of them, her stomach lurched, and her hands flew up to her mouth.

  Before them was a wide beach, its sandy fingers reaching into a vast and oozing river that glowed bright green. Up above, the dusky sky was filled with zooming points of light, like millions of shooting stars. And all over the beach, gathered into lines and milling around, were ghosts, like the ones May had seen at her house. Like the one standing beside her.

  There were thousands of them—their feet hovering just slightly above the ground, their bodies transparent so that you could look at one and see three more behind him, all giving off a soft blue glow. Some were missing limbs. Others were thin and gaunt, their eyes sunken in their heads. A woman floating up ahead paused, seemed to remember something, and then turned back to pick up her foot, which had stopped in the sand a few feet behind her. They were all gathering into groups and lines up near the water, where several large, bright blinking signs lined the shore: SOUTHERN TERRITORIES, NOTHING PLATTE AND THE FAR WEST, DEATH KNELLS, NEW EGYPT, PIT OF DESPAIR AMUSEMENT PARK. Beyond the signs, boats drifted around on the water. Some were empty, docked just before the signs, and some were full of passengers and floating away.

  May started backing up. She didn’t care. She’d take her chances with whatever was back at the lake. She turned
to run.

  “Meay?”

  Somber Kitty crouched at the base of the door in the woods, staring straight up at the top of it. Stubbornly he had already leaped against it many times, hoping that his brute strength would open it. This was a rare tactic for Somber Kitty, more doglike than a cat would care to admit, and now he licked his shoulders and back in an ashamed and embarrassed way. Then he meowed desperately at the gap above, hoping May would hear him.

  Though he was too distraught to notice it, the lake had begun to glow behind him and a figure—stretched out into eight points—was visible just below the surface, watching him. It seemed to be waiting for the right moment to strike.

  Bubble. Bubble.

  Somber Kitty’s ears perked up, and he straightened his whiskers, though he did not look behind him. He stared at the door in a deceptively calm manner as his muscles began to coil. Behind him something else was coiling too, ready to launch itself out of the water.

  Somber Kitty leaped at the same time the water demon did, its long wet arm whipping at the ground where, a second before, the cat had crouched. With a yowl Somber Kitty went hurtling through the gap above the door, scraping his belly and dragging his legs as he came tumbling down on the other side.

  When he landed, he was in a dark hallway.

  He was also on all fours.

  May took a few running steps and crashed into solid brick wall.

  “Ow.” She threw a hand to her aching forehead and backed up, staring at the graffiti-covered bricks that had appeared before her.

  Glowing spray paint scrawled words across the wall: BO CLEEVIL IS WATCHING, ANTONY LOVES CLEO. Across the top, up several stories above May’s head, in giant, glowing blue letters, a sign read SPECTROPLEX. May pushed on the bricks, then pounded on them.

  “No,” May cried, the tears finally spilling onto her cheeks. “I don’t want to be dead, I don’t want to be dead.”

  “Oh, don’t do that! You’re being too loud!” Pumpkin grabbed her by the waist, sending another cold zap through her. He looked over his shoulder at a group of skeletons that lingered by the edge of the water, guiding people into the boats. They all wore exactly the same long robe and each held a staff. It was too much. May’s head swam.

  “Here,” Pumpkin slid out of his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. “M-M-Maybe it’ll tone you down. We have to get out of here.” The jacket felt light as air, and when May tried to touch it, her hands went right through it. But it stayed on and gave her a glow that was, she noticed, pretty flimsy compared to the other spirits on the beach. “Oh, thank goodness. There’s a boat over there, see?” May looked. On a deserted stretch of beach far to the left, a tiny boat clung to the edge of the sand, lifting gently with the ripples of the water. “Um, you should probably keep your head down and stay next to me.” Pumpkin froze, flinging his hands up over his eyes. “Oh no, I can’t do it.”

  He shrank back against the wall. “This is just too much to ask of one spirit. If Arista was here . . .”

  May sucked in breaths, wiping her eyes. “Who’s Arista?”

  “It doesn’t matter. We’re doomed for sure. I think . . . oh, yes . . . I’m having an asthma attack.” Pumpkin started wheezing.

  “Ghosts have asthma?” May asked doubtfully.

  Pumpkin looked at her, startled, and the wheezing came to an abrupt stop. “Good point.” He crouched deeper against the wall and chewed on his fingers.

  May looked out across the sand at the boat and slumped against the bricks. She turned to rest her head against the wall, but seeing something there, she backed up.

  It was only one word, and the paint looked so old and faded that it could have been there forever. It simply read: HELP.

  May dipped into her pocket, and her hands closed around the soggy ball of her letter. It was still there. If this was all real, then her letter was real too. Help. She traced the word on the bricks with her fingers, her stomach tingling, wondering if it was somehow meant for her.

  May didn’t think she could help anyone. She needed too much help herself. Crossing her arms tightly across her chest, she turned to watch Pumpkin. He was a horrible sight. His mouth zigzagged up either sides of his face. His body—straight as a rake-jutted out at harsh angles. She remembered his terrifying appearances in her room—the sight of him diving at her in the lake, grabbing at her; his arms dragging her here, zapping her . . .

  She waited until Pumpkin was looking in the other direction, then took a few faltering steps forward, out onto the open sand.

  “Oh, dear.” Pumpkin caught up with her, clutching her arm as he kept his eyes on the cloaked creatures at the water’s edge. May shrank from him, but he held on tight. “You’re going to get yourself destroyed,” he whispered, trembling again. “I’m trying to help you.”

  May looked around as they moved across the sand, wondering who it was that was trying to destroy her.

  After a few agonizing minutes, they were standing next to the boat.

  “Hurry. Hop in.”

  May hesitated. She could see the water through the transparent bottom of the craft, and it looked like if she tried to step inside, she would fall right through. A cold nudge hit her from behind, and her feet went stumbling in anyway. It sank slightly under her weight.

  She looked down the beach, wondering if she should call for help—most of the figures on the beach looked much more human than Pumpkin did. But she gave up that thought when she saw that one of the skeletal characters in black was gazing in their direction. He walked over to another robed skeleton and leaned toward him, his jaw bones opening and closing. Then they both looked in May’s direction.

  Pumpkin climbed down into the boat beside her and sat down, folding his hands tightly on his lap.

  The boat stayed where it was.

  “It’s your weight in the boat. Get down,” Pumpkin whispered, gazing at the two skeletons down the beach, who had started to move toward them. “Oh, no. Oh, no no no.” He seemed not to notice that, now that they were in the boat, they needed to set it to moving.

  May, huddling tightly, started to feel panicked too. Her gaze shifted from Pumpkin, to the robed creatures, to Pumpkin. “Shouldn’t we push off?” she finally asked.

  Pumpkin’s lips trembled. “Yes, yes, you’re absolutely right.”

  He jumped back out of the boat onto the shore, sneaking another look at the two figures that were now advancing quite quickly down the beach. Then he seemed to gauge the direction in which he wanted to push the boat. “Southern Territories, Southern Territories,” he muttered. Finally he gave the boat a hard diagonal shove and tried to jump in. Instead only half of him made it. The other half splashed into the water, his long legs flailing.

  May stared, not knowing what to do. With one tiny push, she could shove Pumpkin off the boat and escape. But where would she go? Who would she go to? And what if the skeletons caught him?

  Her hands shot out to grab him, her fingers turning to ice as she helped to drag him onto the boat.

  He smiled at her crookedly. “Thanks.”

  May merely gazed at him in reply, then toward the shore, then peered around, unsure as to whether she had made the right choice. “How do we paddle?” she finally asked.

  “We don’t,” he breathed. “We just have to hope I pushed us in the right direction. The greeters are experts. They don’t miss. But one time I did this wrong and ended up at the Pit of Despair Amusement Park, clear on the other side of the realm. It took me a year to get home.”

  Sure enough, the boat kept moving on its own. By the time the cloaked figures reached the part of the beach Pumpkin and May had launched from, they were far out into the water. The two skeletons stared after the boat for a moment, then one of them shrugged its bones, and the other patted him on the spinal column. They turned and drifted back along the sand.

  Pumpkin and May drifted far and fast, until all of the figures on the beach became small. May could just make out the dark opening of the alley they’d hidden in and a
tiny, black speck standing in its shadow, moving its tail. It made a tingling start at the base of her neck. She shook it off and turned to look over her shoulder.

  The boat indeed seemed to be steering itself. Up ahead, May could make out several places where the river branched off. Their boat slowly made its way into one of the branches, which looked like it went on forever, though it was no wider than two of the boats put together. A strip of beach lined it on either side, and poking out of the sand just by the mouth was a sign that read: SOUTHERN TERRITORIES.

  “Oh, thank goodness.” Pumpkin breathed. Looking back, they could see other boats heading in the same direction, drifting lazily behind them.

  Back on the beach the spirits outside the southeastern portal, Spectroplex, weren’t paying much attention to much of anything but themselves. If they had been, they may have noticed the tiny, black nose that occasionally peeped out from a certain alley. They may have even heard the tiny, plaintive sound of a meow or two, drifting out on the breeze. But most of the specters were busy coming to terms with their recent deaths.

  Somber Kitty’s slitted green eyes scanned the beach, but May was nowhere to be seen. He had curled up around her freshest footprint just at the edge of the alley, sniffing it thoughtfully several times. He longed to follow her tracks, where they led across the sand, but his instincts told him to beware. His gaze kept drifting to the bony fellows in robes.

  Finally he couldn’t wait any longer. He pressed his ears back, watched a lady drift close by, and darted forward into the folds of her dress.

  Keeping his paws tightly in rhythm with her movements and ignoring the bewildering cold zaps of her clothes, he scurried from spirit to spirit, following May’s scent like a checker zigzagging its way to kinghood. At the water just beside a newly beached boat, he froze. Here the scent disappeared.

  Somber Kitty’s eyes rolled, and he let out a low, plaintive mew, which drew a few stares. Spirits began tugging one another’s sleeves and pointing at him until a loud howl erupted from one of the robed creatures several yards away. And then the crowd flew apart as several of the creatures began zipping toward him, all howling.