The World From Up Here

by Cecilia Galante

  Silver turned around for the third time to check our progress. “You guys are doing great!” she said. “Are you having fun?”

  “No,” Russell said flatly. “This is boring.”

  I poked him in the back when he said that, but secretly I agreed. Now that Roo had proven she was no runner, moving along at a snail’s pace was barely more interesting than watching grass grow.

  “You can ask her to go a little faster, if you want.” Silver raised her eyebrows. “Just squeeze her around the belly with your legs and make a clicking sound with your mouth.”

  “No, Russell.” I spoke in a low voice behind him. “No way.”

  “Wren says no!” Russell shouted. “She’s afraid!”

  It took all my energy not to dig my finger into his back.

  “It’s okay,” Silver said. “It’s your first time out. It’s probably better if you just keep things nice and slow.” I could feel her eyes on me. I stared at the back of Russell’s head.

  Ten more minutes passed. I eyed Silver nervously as we approached the opposite side of the pasture. Not thirty feet ahead of us was the beginning of a trail that led up the west side of Creeper Mountain. Witch Weatherly’s side of Creeper Mountain. It was so clotted with dead branches at the front that it was nearly impossible to imagine what lay beyond it, but I could see it perfectly in my mind’s eye. A dark, pitted road, edged with claw-sized thorns. Overhead, a carpet made of thickly strung leaves and vines probably blocked even the smallest thread of sunlight. The faint rustle of dry leaves as hornet-head snakes glided beneath them. A raven’s shriek in the distance. I shut my eyes to block it out.

  “Man!” Silver sounded downright disappointed as she surveyed the bottom of the trail.

  “What man?” Russell asked.

  “No, I mean, look at that trail.” Silver pointed, and shook her head. “I betcha that’s the one that leads right up to Witch Weatherly’s house. But look at all those branches and thorns! It’d take a weed whacker to get through all that stuff. Maybe even two.”

  “You’re not s’posed to go up to Witch Weatherly’s house,” Russell said. “I even heard your mom say that.”

  “We shouldn’t be this close to the mountain.” I hoped Silver couldn’t hear the fear in my voice. But really, what was she doing? If she was comfortable going against her mother’s rules and heading up to visit Witch Weatherly, that was her problem. But it was another thing entirely for her to drag Russell and me into it. Especially when we were both stuck on top of a horse.

  “Oh, I know.” Silver sounded distracted. “We won’t stay long. I just want to see something.” She threw one leg over Manchester and slid off him.

  “What’re you doing?” My fear was being replaced with anger. Had this been Silver’s whole purpose of taking us out here to begin with? Had she staged the whole horse ride just so she could poke around out here? See where it was she needed to go to interview Witch Weatherly? “Silver, come on,” I urged. “We should go.”

  “Wait, I thought I saw something.” Silver held up one hand as she moved toward the trail. “Hold on.”

  Russell glanced back at me and then turned around again. “Don’t go in there, Silver! It’s bad!”

  “Silver,” I pleaded. “Please.”

  “Shhh …” She put her fingers to her lips. “I thought I heard …”

  I held my breath as she moved closer toward the mouth of the trail. Beneath us, Roo chewed noisily, but there was another sound, too … Rustling. Something—or someone—was shifting against the leaves. I could smell something like a match being lit and hear the sound of a twig snapping. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a wide red shape flit through the pine trees. It fluttered once, and then disappeared.

  “It’s the red raven!” I screamed, yanking on Roo’s reins. “We have to get out of here! It’s going to claw our eyes out!”

  Russell popped up in the saddle, nearly falling off. “Where?” he yelled. “I don’t see any red raven! Where is it?”

  The red shape appeared behind the leaves again, but closer this time, as if moving in for the kill. Slowly, it began to rise, the sharp beak first, followed by the sound of steady flapping. Russell threw his head back and bellowed. I screamed so loud that something in my ear popped and I kicked Roo as hard as I could. The horse reared up wildly and, before either of us had a moment to breathe, took off in a dead run.

  Roo streaked across the pasture, as if someone had taken a branding iron and pressed it against her wide haunches. Her ears were pressed down flat, and her speed seemed to increase the closer she moved toward the barn. Beneath me, I could feel her front and back legs moving in a fluid sort of tandem, just as Manchester’s had last night, and I prayed that she wouldn’t trip. Silver and Manchester were galloping behind me; I could hear Silver screaming, “Whoa, Roo! Whoa, girl!” and the sound of Manchester’s powerful hooves as they got closer and closer.

  But Roo paid no attention. She ran as if her life depended on it. She galloped so hard and so fast that the trees on either side of us blurred and the grass beneath our feet disappeared. I forgot about the reins and clutched Russell with both arms, holding on to him for dear life. Russell himself lay nearly flat against Roo’s neck, gripping tufts of the horse’s mane with a deathlike vise. I shut my eyes and prayed that we would not fall off.

  “Whoo-hooo!” I heard suddenly. I opened my eyes. It was Russell. He was still hanging on to Roo’s neck, but he had opened his eyes, and the smile across his face was huge. “Look, Wren! We’re flying! Just like Captain Commando!” He shut his eyes tight and took a deep breath. “Whoo-hooooo!” he screamed.

  I grabbed at him with both hands, pulling hard on the waistband of his pants, as if he had tried to stand up on the horse. “Russell! Stop it! We’ll fall!”

  Almost as if she had heard the warning, Roo stumbled, tripping over the reins that were by now dangling alongside her feet. Before I knew it, Russell and I went flying over her head. For a split second, I saw the blue of the sky, wide and smooth as a robin’s egg as it curved over me, and then I fell face first in the grass.

  Plunk!

  A sharp pain shot through the side of my head.

  A split second later, Russell landed next to me. He clambered back up and dusted himself off, then stared as Roo raced on toward the barn. “That was awesome!” he yelled. “Now I really am Captain Commando!”

  “Would you stop it with the stupid Captain Commando?” I shouted, struggling back up to my feet. I was near tears by now, and so frightened that I thought I might faint. The pain along my forehead had turned sharp and it stung as the breeze blew against it. I couldn’t even imagine what kind of damage had been done. Brain injuries were the worst.

  Manchester flew toward me until Silver pulled on the reins to slow him to a halt. Her face was white. “Are you guys okay?” she asked, swinging down from her saddle.

  “Roo’s running away!” Russell yelled, pointing.

  “She’s okay.” Silver glanced in the direction of the barn. “She knows how to get back to the barn. She’ll just hang out there till we get back.” She took a step closer to me. “Wren, did you get hurt? Are you okay?”

  I reached up and touched my forehead where the pain still smarted. Something wet and warm brushed against my fingertips. Blood. I was bleeding. I stared at the red smear on my fingers and tried not to throw up. “No, I’m not okay. I’m bleeding. I want to go back. Now.” I glared at Silver with as much dignity as I could muster. “Right now, Silver.”

  “Can I just see?” she asked softly, stepping closer without waiting for me to answer. I lowered my fingers so that she could look and stared at Manchester’s heaving, sweating chest as Silver peered at my forehead. “It’s not too bad,” she said, wincing. “The blood’s actually slowing down. I don’t think it’s deep.” She reached out and fingered Momma’s bird necklace.

  I lurched back, swatting at her arm. “What are you doing? Don’t touch that!”

  Silver looked stri
cken. “It was caught. Around your shirt. I … I was just trying to straighten it for you.”

  I looked down. The necklace was in a crazy knot around the edges of my collar; the tiny bird medallion flung along the side of my neck. I fiddled with it for a minute, and then stuffed it back inside my shirt.

  “I’m so sorry about this, Wren,” Silver said. “That has never, ever happened before. Roo must’ve gotten spooked when you guys screamed. Come on. We’ll go back and fix you up. It’ll be all right.”

  I shrugged her arm off my shoulder and headed toward the barn. It would not be all right. Nothing was all right. And I didn’t know if it ever would be again.

  Silver walked Manchester across the rest of the pasture in silence. Russell walked next to her, but I strode ahead, staying at a good distance. The sun was still high overhead, and the shards of sky peeking through the clouds were a watery blue. How could Silver have been so dumb? What was she thinking, bringing us so close to the mountain? My hands trembled at the thought of almost running into Witch Weatherly’s red raven. We could have had our eyes pecked out! Been clawed to shreds! Maybe now Silver would start believing everything we’d been telling her. Maybe this would make her stop pooh-poohing all the “stories” about Witch Weatherly.

  It wasn’t until we were inside the barn that Silver finally spoke again. Her long hair had gotten tangled from the wind and her cheeks were flushed pink. “Listen, guys. Can I ask you not to say anything about this to my mom? I mean, about going near the mountain? She’s going to be upset with me enough that you fell off Roo, and I just … I don’t want her to get all freaked out about the rest. She gets a little nuts when she finds out I’ve done stuff that she tells me not to.”

  “Our momma gets freaked out by lots of stuff, too,” Russell said.

  “Russell.” My shoulders sagged. I almost didn’t care right now that he was talking about Momma.

  “Well, she does!” He glared at me. “She’s scared of everything, just like you!”

  Silver looked at me with an expression I could not read, almost as if she felt sorry for me. I looked away, furious all over again. “Just drop it, Russell, okay?”

  “I can’t drop it,” Russell said. “I’m not even holding it.”

  I closed my eyes.

  “Anyway,” Silver said, hanging a pair of reins on a nail in the wall. “Would you guys mind not saying anything? I mean, could this just sort of be our secret?”

  “Secrets are bad,” Russell said. “My teacher said.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Silver looked tired all of a sudden. “I just don’t want to get into trouble.”

  “I’ll have to think about it,” Russell said.

  “All right,” Silver said. “I guess that’s fair.”

  “Okay, I thought about it,” Russell said. “I won’t tell. This time.”

  Silver turned to me then, waiting expectantly.

  But I turned around, and walked out of the barn without a word.

  Dear Momma,

  I wrote later that night after Russell had fallen asleep.

  How are you doing? What is the hospital like? Dad said that you have two doctors. I think that is a good thing. Now you will get better twice as fast. Russell and I are doing fine. Russell and Jackson watch Captain Commando every afternoon, and Jackson sleeps right next to his bed at night. I am making sure Russell takes his medicine at night and brushes his teeth, so don’t worry.

  Aunt Marianne and Silver have two horses named Manchester and Roo. Russell and I got to ride Roo today.

  I spun my pencil for a few moments, wondering if I should write about being thrown off. I decided not to. Momma already had enough to worry about.

  Aunt Marianne told us that you and she grew up far away from each other. I think that is sad. How come you never told me that before?

  I glanced up as a soft knock sounded on my door, and shoved the notebook under my covers. “Yeah?” I whispered.

  The door opened a crack. Silver poked her head through. “Can I come in?”

  I glanced over at Russell. It was too late to throw the blanket over his head to hide him from view. Besides, he was snoring so loudly that Witch Weatherly could probably hear him. “Okay,” I said.

  Silver was wearing little shortie pajamas in yellow with white trim. Her bare legs stuck out of them like string beans, and her toenails were painted purple. If she thought it was weird that Russell was in bed with me, she didn’t let on. Instead, she just sat down on the floor and hugged her knees to her chest.

  “I just wanted to apologize again for everything that happened today.” She fiddled with her toes while she spoke. “I mean, I know the whole thing kind of freaked you out and I guess I just feel responsible. You know, since I sort of pushed you to come with me and everything.”

  “It’s okay.” I waved my hand casually, as if I was totally over it. Which, in a weird sort of way, was almost the truth. I wasn’t talking about the red raven, of course, and the cut on my head still stung a little, but that afternoon, after I had stormed out of the barn and lay down on my bed, I realized that I had actually ridden a horse. I had ridden a running horse. And yes, I had been thrown off, but I had also lived. I was not in a wheelchair. I had not broken a bone. It was kind of amazing, when I stopped to think about it. And sort of cool, too.

  “Thanks for not saying anything to my mom, either,” Silver said. “I mean, about going near the mountain.”

  I’d surprised myself when Aunt Marianne had pushed for information after seeing the Band-Aid on my forehead. Why had Roo started running in the first place? And how had she been able to run so far? Where had we been? I let Silver do most of the talking, nodding in agreement as she explained that Roo had been startled by a squirrel and then bolted. Being near the mountain hadn’t come up at all. After the conversation was over, and Aunt Marianne was sure I was okay, the whole thing was dropped. It hadn’t seemed important.

  Silver ran a hand through her bangs and then let them fall against her forehead. “I still can’t believe Roo took off like that. I didn’t even know she had it in her to run that fast. You guys really spooked her.”

  I looked at her, dumbfounded that she really didn’t get what had happened. “It wasn’t the yelling,” I said. “She got spooked by the red raven. Didn’t you see it coming out of the bushes?”

  “I saw something red,” Silver said. “It moved, but when I tried to get closer, that’s when Roo went nuts.”

  “She’s not nuts,” I said. “She’s smart.” Smarter than you, I thought. At least she had the sense to run away when she sensed danger.

  “Do you really think it was the red raven?” Silver asked.

  “Of course it was. Other people have seen it, Silver. Lots of times. I know you don’t think that a lot of the things you’ve heard about Witch Weatherly are real, but I’m telling you, they are. The red raven definitely is.”

  Silver studied me for a moment, as if trying to figure out whether or not to believe me. “Okay,” she said finally. “So maybe the red raven is real. But how much of all the rest of it is true? I mean, Dylan and Jeremy made it sound like Witch Weatherly doesn’t even have a face!”

  “I believe all of it,” I whispered. “It’s a legend, Silver, that goes way, way back. Legends are real.”

  “Not all the time.” She folded her knees back up. “I mean, when stories are passed down like that, don’t you think some people forget some of the details? Or exaggerate?”

  “Not when it comes to Witch Weatherly.” I shook my head. “She’s one hundred percent for real, Silver. I’m telling you. People around here know.”

  “Well.” Silver tilted her head to one side. “Maybe you’re right.” I knew she still didn’t believe me. But I didn’t care. Besides, it didn’t matter what I thought. I wasn’t the one about to throw all common sense out the front door and run up Creeper Mountain to meet Witch Weatherly. She was.

  “I wish it was already summer vacation,” she said suddenly. “School is so boring.
”

  I looked at her curiously. “What was school like in Florida? Did you like it there?”

  She shrugged. “It was all right.”

  “Were you popular?”

  “Popular?” She smiled a little bit. “No, I wouldn’t say popular.”

  “Not like here, huh?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Silver.” I shook my head, amazed and irritated at the same time. “Don’t you know how popular you are at our school? And pretty?”

  She sighed. I waited for her to say something totally airheaded like, Do you really think I’m pretty?

  Instead, Silver Jones said, “I don’t think I know anything anymore.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She shrugged, picking at a scab on her knee. “I don’t know. A lot of things feel kind of messed up right now. I’m just trying to figure it all out.”

  “What kinds of things?” I asked.

  She bit the inside of her cheek as her fingernail caught the underside of the scab shell on her knee. A tiny drop of blood emerged from underneath it. She winced, closed one eye, and yanked. “Like why my dad doesn’t call me anymore,” she said, exhaling. We both stared at the thin rivulet of blood dripping down the front of her leg. I leaned over, grabbed a tissue off the little nightstand next to the bed, and held it out to her. She pressed it hard against the wound.

  I thought fast. “Maybe he just doesn’t have your number up here yet.”

  “We’ve been here for more than two months,” Silver said. “He has it. He’s called my mom a few times about money.” She shrugged. “I just … I don’t know what I did to make him not want to call me.”