The Witching Wind, page 15
“Is Ernie coming?” Grayson asks.
Eli shrugs. “He said he’d be here. I talked to him right after I talked to you.”
“We were up late gaming last night,” Grayson explains. I shoot her a look. She shoots one right back. I know friends game with friends—that’s normal. But there’s something about the two of them together that seems kinda cute and crushy to me.
“It’s just Mario Kart,” Grayson says as if she’s a mind reader.
Eli tosses a bag of Skittles to Grayson. It’s her favorite candy, and somehow, he knows it.
Ameerah passes me a fancy-looking glass of Dr Pepper. “Glad you made it!” Her whole face looks lit up when she says this to me, and it thrills my heart. I know she means it.
“Grayson,” Mars says, “I want you to know something. I’m not angry if the bird magic doesn’t work today. If the crows don’t know where Cheeseburger is . . . it’s okay. I’m just grateful you’re trying.”
“Good, ’cause I can’t control the birds,” Grayson says. “And Cheeseburger might be happy on a beach somewhere. Plus it’s a pretty well-known rule that crows can’t find somebody who doesn’t want to be found. But we’ll do our best to get Cheeseburger home. I found some great crow treasures to trade for his whereabouts.”
She fishes through her backpack for today’s haul: a chunk of soft pretzel from the stand at the pool, a corner of Dread Pie, and a penny.
Mars walks over to a glass door and points at the woods behind his house. “The last place I saw Cheeseburger was the back porch just before he jumped into the woods.”
Mars hands Grayson Cheeseburger’s favorite toy, a small, squeaky mouse scented like catnip.
“Let’s do this,” Grayson says matter-of-factly.
We all head in that direction, standing near the rail and looking up toward the pale gray sky. The pine trees in the Harbor look like they stretch to forever. I know pine trees are the same everywhere—in Sunny Side, on the Harbor, even up on my mountain. But they seem so much bigger here. I imagine them drawing shapes in the clouds when us humans aren’t looking.
The trinkets are on the porch rail and the door’s not even fully closed when we hear the whoooosh. Grayson gasps.
When we look back, all that’s left is one bite of pretzel. And the toy mouse.
“Wait . . .” Grayson looks confused. “They didn’t grab the mouse. That’s important. Why would they leave it?”
Mars reaches out and pats her shoulder. “Hey, we tried.”
“It’s going to work,” I tell him softly. “Give it time!” And I hope what I’m telling him is true.
Eli’s stomach growls.
“What?” he asks. He’s setting up his computer and charging his drone at the table.
“Hungry much?” Grayson asks.
“That wasn’t me!” Eli says. “That sounded like . . . a baby tiger or something.”
Mars gasps. He runs to the edge of the porch and looks into the woods. “That’s what Cheeseburger sounds like.”
We’re all quiet . . . listening. And then, we hear the growl again.
Mars shouts, “That’s her!”
“Then let’s go!” I grab the mouse toy and leap off the porch. Shockingly, I land on my feet and jog through the woods, listening for the caws . . . and for the baby tiger roar. Watching for a flash of hairless cat somewhere in the brush. First, because I desperately want this to work. And I want to pay attention to how it all works; I’ll need to be able to track Granny on the mountain. Second, because I want Mars to have his cat more than I’ve wanted anything in a long, long time. He’s missing the other half of his heart. And I know how that feels.
Ameerah darts in front of me and points. “There! I see the Cheese!”
The three of us scramble over the brambles, tangles, and roots in the woods behind Mars’s house, following the gray streak of a scrawny cat tail.
“Spread out!” I yell. Mars and Ameerah launch off in both directions and I focus straight ahead.
I’m not a good runner. That’s what I always tell myself, at least.
Because I’m not fast like Colette.
Because I don’t look athletic. Whatever that even means.
But right now, I feel athletic. My legs are pumping, and so are my arms. And so far I haven’t tripped or fallen. I’m making good pace and I’m so focused. And this feels . . . good. I feel good in my body.
I hear the sound again: the soft, gentle growl. I stop. Step softly. And then, I see her.
Above me, Cheeseburger, the hairless cat, is curled up on the branch of a maple tree, looking down at me with wide fearful eyes.
“It’s okay.” I hold up my hands. “I just want to take you back to Mars. He misses you so much—”
Cheeseburger stands up. Stretches out one scrawny paw, like she’s going to walk toward me.
“That’s it!” I say, moving slowly toward her. “So close . . .”
“ALERT! ALERT!” A robot voice comes from the sky, which instinctively makes me yelp and the cat screech. Cheeseburger scrambles higher up the tree, to the tallest branch.
A small silver drone bobs up toward me. On the front, there’s a picture of Eli’s face. One of the tiny cowboy hats is fastened to the top.
“HOUSTON. WE HAVE. A PROBLEM.”
“I was SO CLOSE!” I yell.
Grayson’s voice tones through the drone next. “Abort mission. We’ll look. Later. Witching Wind. Category TEN. NOW!”
“Roxie!” Ameerah’s beside me now. She grabs my arm and points into the hazy gray sky—above Eli’s drone—where a lone butterfly tumbles down through the air.
The butterfly nestles on Ameerah’s outstretched hand.
“That’s not good,” she says.
The butterfly spreads its wings.
“Get. The cat. QUICK,” Eli says.
And for the second time in less than a week, I’m scrambling up a tree. Cheeseburger is tucked into a high corner branch. I pull out the mouse toy and squeak it. Cheeseburger cranks her head.
“Let’s go, friend,” I say, trying to keep my voice gentle and free from panic. But that’s impossible—I can already hear the scream of the Witching Wind.
“Roxie!” Ameerah calls. “Get down here!”
“Roxie!” Mars is beside her now. “I don’t want you to get hurt! Come on! The Cheese is a survivor! We’ll get her later! We gotta hurry—I don’t even know where we are or how to get home.”
“I. WILL HELP,” Eli says. “JUST. HURRY.”
But I’m not giving up yet.
And then somewhere on the wind—or maybe in my heart—I hear my granny’s voice. She’s telling me I’m brave and strong. Roxie Darling! There’s only shine in you!
Even though she’s not beside me, I feel like she’s with me. And that makes me brave.
“Come on, Cheeseburger!” I beg. Cheese curls her tail into a shape that looks oddly like a gray question mark. “Mars is waiting! He’ll keep you safe from the wind!”
In a swift, hairless swoop, Cheeseburger bounds into my arms.
And suddenly, the wind stops.
The woods go silent.
There’s no breeze.
No birdsong. My phone buzzes in my pocket. And out of sheer habit, even though I’m stranded up a tree and a Witching Wind is on the way—I check it. There’s a text from Colette.
Someone saw Granny! I’m coming to get you!
For a second, I’m too stunned to react. I’m shocked. And stuck.
Then I hear the whispers.
“Why aren’t they coming back?” Grayson shouts. She’s standing over Eli’s shoulder, watching everything in the woods happen via Eli’s drone camera. And Roxie is still up a tree! “I’m not afraid of the wind. Not usually. But Category Ten. Eli! That’s big!”
“I know!” Eli says. The video quality is poor, but she can see Ameerah, holding her hands over her billowing headscarf to keep it in place. Mars is yelling something. But his words are lost in the wind.
Grayson presses the ESC key, which Eli has programmed to speak for the drone. Her words come out as choppy and robotic as his. “WHERE IS. ROXIE?”
“UP THE TREE!” Mars yells.
“She’s going to blow away if we don’t do something, Eli!”
He bangs the ESC Key. “HURRY. UP. CATEGORY TEN! I’ll guide you home!”
Grayson appreciates how focused Eli is right now. Yes, he’s worried. But he’s clearheaded. He opens another window on the computer and pulls up a map of the Harbor woods. Even as he’s talking to them, he’s thinking about what happens next.
“You’re good at this,” Grayson tells him.
A flush creeps up his cheeks. “Thanks. I just wish we could get them back faster.”
Then Grayson remembers something she saw in Mars’s garage when they arrived earlier. “I’ll be right back.”
Grayson trudges out the front door, leaning forward and bearing her weight into her walker to get through the wind. And there—just like she remembered—is a golf cart.
This time she doesn’t even need the crows to help her find what she wants. The keys are right in the ignition.
She sighs. Stealing a golf cart has never been on her bucket list.
But her friends are in danger and Grayson will do anything for people she cares about.
She can’t help but smile as she settles into the driver’s seat. Beanie will love this story.
But as she turns the key in the ignition, she notices a shadow on the concrete ground. A human shadow. Grayson’s not alone in this garage. And a thick, high-pitched Southern accent scrapes like fingernails across her eardrums:
“Just what do you think you’re doing?”
Somebody found Granny. She’s out there! But I’m stuck up a tree, chasing a cat, while strange whispers slither through the air. This time it’s not just my granny I hear whispering in the wind. There are other voices. Other sounds.
Laughter.
Snippets of people singing.
Whole sentences and words float like debris in this wild breeze. Some are loud enough that I’m shocked it’s not an actual person. I don’t see anything. But I hear everything. I cuddle Cheeseburger closer.
“OH. DEAR.” Eli’s drone weaves and wobbles in the choppy air above us. “THE TREE IS NOT SAFE!”
I duck as the drone zooms through the branches, narrowly missing my head. It bangs into the tree trunk.
“You are not steady here,” I tell the drone. “Go home. I’ll get us back.”
“MEET YOU. BACK AT. HOUSE. LEAVE NOW!” Eli says as the drone bobs out of the treetops like a yo-yo, disappearing into the woods.
Mars and Ameerah are still below me, waiting. Cheeseburger is a warm weight against my heart. With her snug against me, I scramble low enough to jump out of the tree and land on my feet beside my friends.
I gently tuck the hairless cat back into Mars’s arms. The look on his face reminds me of Christmas morning but better.
“Somebody saw my granny!” I yell. The wind is wild around us, whipping my hair into a tiny tornado. “I have to go.”
“Not till this blows over,” Ameerah says, looping one arm through mine. She keeps her headscarf steady with the other.
With Cheeseburger tucked under one arm, Mars reaches out for my free hand. “Hurry!”
We’re a human chain—the three of us—weaving through the woods back toward Mars’s house. I hear the Witching Wind billowing behind us, cracking limbs like an angry giant.
Cackling, laughing, whispering, singing.
The Dreads ripple through me like rocks I used to toss across Lake Silas. I hadn’t felt them until now. I was so focused on saving the Cheese that I didn’t have time to get nervous! But now anxiety is a storm inside me, and it’s just as confusing as any storm in the sky. Usually when the Dreads get this bad, I can crawl into my bed, hide under the covers, or hold Huck. Or go hide in a bathroom, if I’m at school. I definitely do not stand outside in the Witching Wind.
But maybe love is bigger than fear.
That’s a new whisper I hear in the wind. The words surprise me. Some whispers on the wind aren’t full of doom or gloom or terror. Sometimes they’re beautiful.
“Wow,” I say as I jog along between Mars and Ameerah.
“What?” he asks, glancing over at me.
But I don’t have time to answer. I scream as a wild gust billows up around me, plucking me off the ground like a dandelion stem.
“Roxie!” Mars grabs at my hand with his but I can’t hold on.
I claw at the air like I can grab a chunk of it, but there’s nothing there between me and the sky.
Somebody grabs my ankle—Mars! He shouts, “You can’t have her, Hannah True!” But he’s only got one hand around my ankle. So the wind pulls him and Cheeseburger up, too.
“NOPE!” Ameerah grabs Mars. She’s holding tightly to his sneaker with one hand, her headscarf with her other. But I know it’s only seconds before the wind snatches Ameerah, and tosses us all into the abyss. Somewhere in the distance, an engine revs; it sounds more like a bumblebee buzz in a storm this loud.
Grayson and Loretta come zooming out of the forest in a golf cart.
Wait . . . Loretta? How did she know I was here?
Loretta jumps out and wraps her arms around Ameerah’s waist. Grayson clips her own carabiner to the cart, then holds tight to Loretta. She’s strong for such a tiny person.
The sky swirls like a menacing milkshake above me.
The Witching Wind is stronger than all of us. Stronger than me. That’s what it thinks, at least. But I’m a Darling. We don’t go down easy.
“Don’t be afraid of it!” Grayson yells. “Tell it to STOP, Roxie!”
Tell it to stop? As if it’s that easy! I’d laugh if I wasn’t so terrified.
Instead, I open my hand wide as the wind whirls around me—spinning, swirling, a foggy, mysterious mix. And I scream.
I don’t even scream actual words.
But I think about the day at the pool. The stupid planet meme in reading class. About gym.
About Dad driving two hours to work because the plant shut down.
About sixth grade and all its horribleness and Miss Mumford saying, Not all bodies are swimsuit bodies.
About my body, changing.
About Granny, gone. Lost in this mean, menacing, uncontrollable weather. I’m old enough to know life isn’t fair. But gosh, I wish life could be more kind when all you want to do is exist. And I hear Granny’s voice. Again.
Which is impossible. Somebody already found her! Colette just said so! She’s not in the wind anymore!
Is she?
Listen, dear,
I’ll sing to you
A song about a—
“ROXIEEEEEEE!”
The whisper is broken by a louder shout. This time it’s Colette. She’s flying toward us—literally through the air—screaming like a superhero. Just as I realize she’s about to tackle me to the ground, that’s exactly what she does.
“Get in the truck!” she yells to us all. Colette’s pulled up beside the golf cart. I don’t know if it was the wind or my own scream that drowned out the sound of her truck headed toward us. We all climb in, careful not to smoosh Grayson, and Colette jumps behind the wheel. I slam the door. Colette says she came to pick me up from Eli’s house. When she found out we were in the woods, she jumped right back in the truck and drove here. She has animal instincts, she reminds me. She can track anybody. Based on the fiery glimmer in her eyes, she’s not happy about this.
The wind rocks the truck. But the whispers outside are muffled now. My hair is stuck to my face, along with a mess of sweat and tears.
“Roxie, what are you doing playing in the wind?” Colette isn’t exactly yelling, but she’s not calm.
“We found a cat,” I say, breathless. I nod toward Cheeseburger, who sits still and fearful in Mars’s arms. “We were going to find Granny this way. I thought we were. I—”
“Somebody thinks they saw her,” Colette says, throwing the truck in reverse. It’s wild, how she drives in reverse better than most people drive straight ahead. “In the woods around her house, somebody saw her.”
How is that possible? Colette and I already searched the woods! “What! Did they call out for her? Did they say anything? Why would she be there?”
“That’s all I know,” Colette says as she rumbles the Chevy off a rocky trailhead and back to the main road.
The wind spins behind us all the way through the Harbor and toward the lake. I don’t know if Colette manages to outrun it or if the wind calms down on its own. But the gray skies are more calm by the time we’re downtown.
When we pull up to Granny’s house, cop lights are flashing in the driveway. Soft rain is falling. I hug each one of my friends as I climb over them to get out. Especially Grayson. And especially Loretta. I don’t even know how she got there. But I’m happy to see her.
“I have so much to tell you!” she says. “Let’s talk later.”
“Roxie,” Colette says sharply as I jump to the ground. “Let’s talk to Sheriff Garrett first before we—”
But I’m already running toward the woods where I see the most cops gathered. “Nobody past this point, young lady,” one officer says.
“My dad’s back here waiting for me,” I lie. Then I just keep walking like I know where I’m going. And for some reason—probably because the police force in a town this size isn’t well trained in crime scene preservation—I pass right through, no questions asked.
I trudge through mud and rain hollering out Granny’s name.
I yell till my throat hurts.
Yell until I’m so worn out that all I can do is flop down in the mud.
I’m not afraid of getting lost out here; I know this part of the woods. If you could see the map of my heart, it would look exactly like this stretch of forest. I know the best climbing tree and the best tree to read beneath. I know the gravel path to Loretta’s house and the dirt path to Granny’s. I know where the wild blackberries grow. What I don’t know—but want to, more than anything—is where my granny Ruth actually is. And that doesn’t just make me sad. That makes me deeply afraid.
