For Bailey and Kyra—M.D.B.
Contents
Chapter 1 The Cloak
Chapter 2 In the Middle of Nowhere
Chapter 3 The Light
Chapter 4 Don’t Go Far
Chapter 5 The Ugliest Tree
Chapter 6 The Perfect Tree
Chapter 7 Into the Woods
Chapter 8 The Tree
Chapter 9 The Cloak
Chapter 10 Lots of Room
Chapter 1
The Cloak
1938
“Papa! Look! Isn’t it beautiful?” Lillian breathed the words, long and slow. In the cold air, her breath clouded the store window. She wiped it clear again with a corner of her scarf.
The cloak was beautiful. It was dark green wool. The hood and the cloak were lined with velvet. The velvet was a pale, silvery green.
All that green made Lillian think of a Christmas tree. Not the scraggly junipers Papa always brought home from behind the barn. It made her think of the white pine that stood at the front of the church on Christmas Eve.
Lillian’s father laid his hands on her shoulders. “The cloak is beautiful,” he agreed. “But it’s hardly the thing for a girl doing farm chores.”
“Oh, Papa!” Lillian said. But she knew he was right. The cloak hadn’t been made for her … or for any other farmer’s daughter.
“It looks so … warm,” she said.
“Warm” wasn’t exactly what she meant. But the word would have to do. “Warm” Papa could appreciate. The truth was, the cloak looked like something a lady would wear to a party. Yet it was sized for a girl. It was the perfect size for a nine-year-old girl like her.
“Yes,” her father agreed gently. “It does look warm.” He tugged at her scarf as he spoke, wrapping it closer around her. He might have been reminding her of the love Mama had knit into that scarf.
Then his big hands turned her away from the store window. “We must be getting on home, Lilly,” he said. “Your mama will have supper waiting. And Ben wants the barn.”
Ben, their patient plow horse, stood with his head hung low. A blanket of snow covered his wide back. The snow had been falling all day. The countryside was thick with it.
Papa helped Lillian into the sleigh. He tucked a warm blanket across her lap, climbed up himself, and clucked at Ben.
Lillian looked back to check the cloak in the store window once more. Who would have thought their little general store would have anything so fine?
She tried to imagine what girl would find it under her Christmas tree. Ruth, the minister’s daughter? Maybe Clarissa, whose father owned the town bank.
Whoever it was would, no doubt, have a perfect Christmas tree, too. She would have as fine a tree as the tall white pine at church.
Lillian sighed and snuggled into her father’s side.
“Are you warm, little one?” he asked.
“Warm as toast, Papa,” she said.
She didn’t need a green cloak. Not with Papa nearby. Still … she couldn’t help it. She had to look back one last time. The cloak was beautiful! As beautiful as …
But the thought stuttered and stopped. Another rose inside her like a dawning sun.
So the green cloak hadn’t been made for her. That didn’t mean she couldn’t have anything beautiful.
Junipers weren’t the only trees on their farm. The hills that rose on every side were filled with white pines. Those trees were as beautiful as any she’d ever seen at the church. A person had only to walk a bit farther to get one.
“Papa?” she said.
“Yes, Lilly?” he replied.
“May I bring in our Christmas tree this year?”
For a long moment, her father said nothing.
Lillian held perfectly still, waiting.
Ben clop-clopped along. The harness creaked. The snow kept falling.
“Do you think you’re big enough for such a task?” Papa asked at last.
“I am, Papa,” she breathed. “I am!”
He nodded slowly. “All right,” he said. “If it’s what you want. You may bring in our tree.”
Lillian clapped her mittened hands. Then she snuggled even closer to Papa.
“There’s lots of juniper just behind the barn,” Papa reminded her. “They’re close in. And they aren’t too heavy for you to carry.”
“I know,” Lillian told him.
But she knew something else, too. She wasn’t going to settle for any ugly old juniper. She would bring home the best tree in the forest.
Wouldn’t her younger brother and sister be thrilled with a tall green tree? Mama and Papa would, too. They just didn’t know it yet.
Lillian looked back in the direction of the green cloak. It would never be hers. She knew that.
Still, she smiled.
Chapter 2
In the Middle of Nowhere
The snow didn’t fall. It flew. It flung itself sideways as if it never intended to land.
Kaye sat in the middle of the backseat so she could look out the windshield. All she could see, though, was the flying snow. In the headlights it became a white wall. The white wall divided at the last instant to let them through.
She checked the side windows of the car. There she saw only darkness. She turned back to the wall of snow.
Kaye’s father gripped the steering wheel hard. Next to him, her mother leaned forward. She leaned and leaned as if she could get them to Gran’s faster that way.
Christmas was waiting for them at Gran’s. Christmas and cookies and gifts and a ham so huge the four of them could barely make a dent in it.
A Christmas tree would be waiting, too. The tree would touch the living room ceiling, only just leaving room for the angel. It would fill one whole side of the room.
The tree would have about a thousand ornaments on it, too.
Kaye’s favorite was the one shaped like a pickle. Gran always hid the glass pickle deep inside the tree for Kaye to find. When Kaye found it, she got a special pickle gift.
At least she hoped a tree like that would be waiting.
Last year Gran had surprised everyone by saying the tree was too big, too messy, too much work. “I’m going to get one of those artificial trees next Christmas,” she’d said.
All year Kaye had wondered if Gran would really do that.
It would hardly be Christmas with an artificial tree. Gran wouldn’t even be able to hide a pickle ornament in one of those scrawny things.
But whether the tree was artificial or not, tomorrow was Christmas. And they still had a long way to drive. “A long, long way,” Dad had barked the last time Kaye asked.
She wanted to ask again now, but she didn’t. This time Dad might say, “A long, long, long way.”
The more the snow flew, the farther away Christmas seemed to be.
Kaye asked another question instead. “Where are we?”
But Dad didn’t like that question, either. “We’re in the middle of blasted nowhere,” he snapped.
Mom reached back to touch Kaye’s knee. The touch was a kind of apology for Daddy’s being cross. He wasn’t usually cross.
“We’re out in the country,” Mom said. She spoke with careful cheer. Not that it helped much. Kaye could tell that her mother was working really hard to be cheerful.
Anyway, out in the country was the middle of nowhere. Wasn’t it?
Kaye peered out the side window. There was nothing out there but darkness. Darkness and bits of flying white. There was no town. No lights. No sign that anybody else in the world was near.
They hadn’t met another car for a long time. Probably everyone had gotten wherever they were going. Everyone except them.
The radio had talked all day about the big storm coming. Her dad had said th
ey would make it to Gran’s before it got too bad. But here they were.
The wind bumped against the side of the car, rocking it.
“Charles!” Mom cried in a small, breathless voice. As if Dad had made the wind. She leaned forward harder.
Kaye’s father didn’t answer. He just hung on to the steering wheel.
The wind bumped them again. Bump! Bump! Two sharp blows made the car shudder.
Mom didn’t say anything this time. But she held on to the door.
BUMP!
The wind hit the car again. This time it slid them across the icy road. Dad turned the steering wheel. They just kept sliding.
Then there was another kind of bump. This was the bump of the tire hitting something on the edge of the road.
And they were sliding back across the road again. The car slid, and it turned, too … like some kind of carnival ride.
It would have been fun if it hadn’t been so scary.
Mom said, “Oh!” It was just the smallest sound. She let go of the door, and her hands flew to cover her mouth. She seemed to want to stop more sounds from coming out.
Dad kept turning the wheel. And the car paid no attention at all.
They slid and spun. First they spun until they were facing backward. Then they spun until they faced front again. Front didn’t look much different from back.
In the headlights the snow kept coming at them. It sped toward them like millions of white bullets.
The car made another turn, but partway through it went bump again. And bump! And BUMP!
Now the car was sliding down a small, steep hill. And suddenly everything stopped.
Everything except the snow. It kept flying. And the wind kept moaning.
All else was silent.
For a moment, they sat perfectly still. There was nothing to see except flying snow.
Then Kaye’s parents turned to look at her. They turned at the same time. Their heads could have been pulled by the same string.
“Are you all right?” they asked in one voice.
When Kaye opened her mouth to answer, no sound came out. She nodded instead.
Mom looked at Dad. “Where are we?” she asked.
“Out in the country,” he answered. “In the middle of blasted nowhere.”
And then, strange as it might seem, they both laughed.
Chapter 3
The Light
“It’s not so bad,” Dad said. “We’ll get out of here. Just hold tight.” He put the car in reverse and pressed the gas pedal.
The wheels spun. The car settled more deeply into the ditch.
He tried again, more gently this time. The car didn’t move.
He tried rocking, forward, back, forward, back. Nothing. They weren’t going anywhere.
Mom was quiet. But her hands were clenched into fists.
Kaye looked down. Her hands were fists, too.
“Well,” Dad said at last. “I’d better get out and have a look.”
When he opened his door, the wind roared more loudly. When he stepped out, the storm swallowed him.
Kaye’s teeth began to chatter. She wasn’t cold exactly. At least she didn’t think she was. She was just-Dad jerked the door open and tumbled back in. He had snow everywhere. He even had snow in his eyebrows!
“We’re well and truly stuck,” he said. “We won’t get out of here without a tow.”
“What will we do?” Mom asked.
Kaye waited. What would they do?
Mom was waiting, too. Dad didn’t answer.
And that was when Kaye saw it. A small, pale face appeared at her window. No … it wasn’t a face. It was just a light. A lighted face?
That didn’t make sense.
But there it was again. A pale face floated outside her window.
“Look!” Kaye said.
Her parents both turned to look.
“What?” Dad asked.
“Can’t you see?” Kaye asked. “It’s a …” At the last instant she decided not to say “face.” What face would be out here in the storm? “It’s a light,” she said instead.
“I can’t see any light,” her dad said.
“I can’t, either,” her mom said.
The light bobbed outside her window again. It seemed to be calling to her.
“There!” Kaye put her hand against the window. If the glass hadn’t been in the way, she could have touched it. “It’s right there!”
And before her parents could say again that there was no light, she pushed the door open. When she had it open just a bit, the wind yanked it wide. She tumbled out. For an instant, the driving snow blinded her.
When she could make out the light again, it was farther away.
It might have been the moon, except it was much too close for the moon.
It might have been a face, except it was too bright for any face.
Kaye moved toward it.
“Kaye!” her mother cried. “Get back in the car!”
“Now!” her father ordered.
The light—or the face, whatever it was—called to her. Not with a voice. The only “voice” she could hear was the wind’s. Still, the light called as clearly as if it had said, “Come!”
“But I see a light!” Kaye tossed the words back over her shoulder.
“What light?” her father demanded. He was out of the car now.
“It’s there,” she said. “Right over there.” And she started toward it again.
She felt her father grab at her jacket, but she pulled away.
“Kaye!” her mother called.
Kaye watched the light. She could almost touch it. And then she couldn’t.
It must not have been as close as it seemed. It couldn’t be far, though.
She began to run.
She heard her parents stumbling after her. The snow was deep. The wind howled. The wind unwound the scarf from her neck and flung it away.
Kaye paid no attention. She just kept going.
Someone was calling her.
Chapter 4
Don’t Go Far
1938
“I wanna go, Lillian.” Elsa jumped up and down. Her dark curls bobbed with each jump. “I wanna go! Pretty please?”
Lillian shook her head at her three-year-old sister. She always wanted to go where Lillian went.
“You can’t, Elsa,” she said. “I’m going to get our Christmas tree. And I have to go a long, long way … deep into the woods.”
“You don’t need to go far, Lillian,” Mama said. She opened the oven door, and the kitchen filled with the warm smell of bread. “You know Papa always gets our trees from behind the barn.”
Lillian sighed. “I know, Mama. But I want—”
“See, Lilly. See!” Elsa interrupted. “We don’t need to go far!” She was jumping again.
Lillian spoke over Elsa’s bouncing head. “Those old junipers don’t even smell good,” she said. “And they’re prickly. Last year, by the time we had it decorated, my arms were all in a rash.”
Lillian’s mother tipped a crusty loaf out of its pan. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat of the oven. “I don’t know why you insist on going, anyway, Lilly. Your papa always gets a tree for us. You know he does.”
“But I want a pretty tree,” Lillian cried. She loved her papa, of course. He was the best papa in the world. But he didn’t seem to care about pretty … except when he’d picked Mama, of course.
Her mother sighed. “If you must go, then take Elsa with you. She needs some fresh air. She hasn’t been outside the house this livelong day.”
Lillian opened her mouth to object, but stopped herself. Mama looked tired.
“All right,” she said. If she had to take someone, she would rather have taken her little brother. Isaac was six, not such a baby. But he was out in the barn, helping Papa with chores. And Elsa was the one Mama needed rest from.
“Come on, Elsa,” Lillian said. She put on a cheerful voice. “Get your coat.”
Elsa dashed to get
it down from its peg.
“Now don’t go far,” Mama warned. “It’s cold out there and getting colder. And it will be dark soon.”
“We won’t,” Lillian promised. Just far enough, she said to herself. But she wrapped Elsa’s scarf extra tight.
Elsa sprang out the door and ran ahead of Lillian. She stopped when they reached the unappealing gray junipers.
“Not these,” Lillian told her. “Don’t you want a pretty tree?”
Elsa nodded. Lillian took her sister’s hand as they started up the hill.
Mama was right. The day had turned cold. The sky had cleared and the woods lay in snowy silence. The snow squeaked beneath their boots.
Elsa broke away and ran up to a young tree. It wasn’t a white pine, though. “Here’s one!” she cried. “Here’s our Christmas tree!”
Lillian shook her head. “The needles are too short,” she said.
Soon Elsa pointed to a long-needled one. But it had grown up close to another tree. One side was completely flat.
“No,” Lillian said. “Not that one.”
Next Elsa found one with a crooked trunk.
Lillian smiled. Her little sister seemed to have their father’s eye for beauty. Or perhaps she just felt sorry for the ugly ones.
“No,” Lillian said. “We’re looking for the most spectacular tree in the forest.”
Elsa stopped walking. “I didn’t know trees wore spectacles,” she said.
Lillian laughed. She shifted the small saw she carried and reached for her sister’s hand. She could feel Elsa’s delicate bones through the mittens their mother had knit.
“Let’s go just a little bit farther,” Lillian said.
“Just a little bit farther,” Elsa agreed.
They trudged on.
Chapter 5
The Ugliest Tree
Kaye bumped into the porch steps before she saw the house. There was her light! It poured through a window onto the porch. The wind and the snow had just been playing tricks to make it seem closer.
The Green Ghost Page 1
