Across Carina (7 page)

Right into the air.

“Aaaaaaaaah!”

My fall was long. At first it didn’t feel like falling. I was tearing through the sky so quickly that all my brain could register was the fact that I was in midair. If anything I seemed to be moving in a circle, stomach first like a skydiver.

Instinctively my elbows bent, pulling back toward my legs, and my heels curled into my body. The wind flogged my ears and flapped my cheeks. I felt short of breath and realized that I was only breathing in. I tried to push some of the air out, but I sucked in even more.

Below me tiny patches of brown and green looked miles away. I started to feel the fall, and fear settled in.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.

Suddenly, I was lifted up, and the ground jolted out of my sight. It was replaced by the sky, circling in a tizzy.

“Why?” I moaned, feeling ill.

My velocity then decreased, and I fell into a standing position. I was floating. It was like a parachute had been attached to me all along and had finally deployed. Something was carrying me gently to the ground. I felt like a bubble in the wind.

The resulting silence was so definitive that I was certain I could reach out and touch it. However, the sensation of my arm extended thousands of feet in the air was too exposing, and I quickly retracted.

Unsure of what else to do, I fixed my gaze on the rocks that I was falling past. They were all riddled with carvings. One was of a girl huddled in a cave with her knees to her chest. Her thick hair was brushing her shoulders, and her head hung low. I wondered who she had been.

As best as I could in midair, I turned in the other direction. The waterfall was still going. I thought it might never end, but closer to the ground I saw its violet water bleed into purple and tumble into a small pool. It was a wonder the pool didn’t overflow—it must have been quite deep.

Softly, almost imperceptibly, my feet touched the ground, and I hadn’t a clue how I had managed such grace. I stared at the waterfall for a long time before venturing on, listening to the rush and the pour.

When I turned around I was met by two lines of oak trees. The trees were red, orange, yellow, and green and bordered a dirt path to a wooden cottage. They were full of flowers and acorns, but they smelled like smoke.

Crimson leaves lay scattered across the path and up the steps of the cottage. Where a front door should have been was a tall mirror that extended to the roof. The mirror’s reflection of the branches dipping low in front of it thrust me into an even deeper sea of color.

I studied my reflection as I walked toward the cottage. My fall had showered dirt on my arms and blown my brown hair in every direction. There were bags under my eyes, and I looked a few pounds lighter.

I would have eaten more of the edible fog if there had been some in sight, but the air by the cottage was clear and invigorating. I inhaled and stretched out my arms, absorbing the fresh warmth. I couldn’t imagine this planet ever being cold.

“It is never cold here,” a voice said.

I gasped as a woman emerged from behind the mirror entrance. She walked down the steps toward me. She was terrifyingly beautiful. Long, thick, golden-blonde hair hung in loose waves just past her breasts. The gold in her hair shimmered so prevalently that I thought it might be real gold. Her eyes were the most emerald green that I had ever seen eyes—or anything, for that matter—to be. They were framed by even, voluminous bangs. Her neck and shoulders were exposed in a long-sleeve white dress with a sweetheart neckline. Her dress flowed to the ground and was coupled with an emerald green sash tied high on her thin waist.

Her eyes were fixed on me. Straight-faced and without a word, she walked down the dirt path to where I was standing. The trees bowed in her presence. The light diminished. All the color began to fade. In the mirror my own reflection grew pallid.

“I’m . . . sorry,” I managed to say. “I didn’t know anyone lived here. I was just walking through the forest, and I got lost, and I, I fell right off the cliff. I didn’t mean to intrude. I—”

“If that were the case, then you wouldn’t have come here at all.”

The woman stopped in front of me and held out her hands, as if to gesture at everything.

“This is my home.”

I was petrified. My heart thumped in my chest as the floating kicked in. I saw the woman in front of me, but I didn’t feel like I was actually there looking at her. Instead I was seeing her from the faraway telescope of another world.

“Don’t be afraid,” she said, her hand hovering below mine. She stared into me. “I’ve been waiting for you, Jade Callaghan.”

I let my hand fall into hers, and our embrace was warm. I tightened my grip, never wanting to let go.

“Is this real?” I asked.

Already I could feel the floating slipping away.

“Very real. Come, let us sit.”

The woman smiled, barely upturning the corners of her mouth.

I looked around. There was nowhere to sit. But just as I thought this, a mushroom sprang out of the ground beside us. The woman looked at me expectantly.

“How do I get up?” I asked, for the mushroom was very tall.

“One foot in front of the other,” she replied.

She was as deranged as the chariot driver.

I lifted one foot and paused. If I lifted my other foot, I would immediately fall back into a standing position. I couldn’t just walk onto the mushroom. I had to climb or be hoisted or
something
.

I didn’t know how this woman knew my name or that I would be on The Mango Sun. Now she wanted me to walk on air. Of course, part of me felt like I should try. I didn’t know what would happen if I refused.

I lifted my other foot, and inexplicably I was atop the mushroom with the woman across from me. I uttered a low gasp and sat down, wondering what might happen next.

“What is your favorite color, Jade?” the woman asked. “I love color, you see, and I’d like to present you with some new clothes as a token of my appreciation for your visit.”

“New clothes?” I repeated.

“Yes,” she said, pointing at my mangled pajamas.

I looked down at them.

“It’s no problem,” I said. “I don’t want to put you out.”

She smiled widely this time. “You don’t understand. What is your favorite color?”

“The color of your eyes,” I said without thinking.

See, I was afraid to think in her presence, because I was fairly certain that she could read my mind. She had known my name, after all.

As I tried to look away from her, my peripheral vision was doused in emerald green. I felt my hair smooth and straighten. I watched the dirt wipe off of my skin. My pajamas disappeared, and in their place materialized an emerald green, cotton dress with cap sleeves and a mid-thigh hemline. Matching flats curled around my feet.

“Thank you,” I whispered, leaning forward. “Can I ask who you are?”

“My face name is Charlotte,” the woman said.

“Face name?” I asked.

“Our spirits are born with our true names—our soul names. However, day to day we are called by our face names, the temporary names given to us by our parents. You will never know another’s soul name.”

“If no one knows it, then what is the purpose—”

“I am Charlotte of The Mango Sun,” she said proudly.

Sunlight appeared and pierced through the trees, which returned to their upright positions. The heat melted ease into my mind.

“This
is
a planet, right?” I asked.

“Yes,” Charlotte said. “I named it The Mango Sun for its endless warmth.”

“Named it? Were you one of the first ones here?”

“The first and only. This planet is mine; I created it. Well, I started to.”

“It looks complete to me,” I said.

“Everything that you see is a projection of my thoughts. The moment you stepped onto this planet, you entered my mind.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My powers were stripped a long time ago.”

She began to pick at her nails, suddenly seeming young and vulnerable. She didn’t look older than thirty.

I waited, hoping that she would elaborate.

“I labored and sacrificed to receive matter of my own,” she finally said. “From that matter I formed the shell of this world, which I gave colors and a name. I did not get any farther before he stole my powers.”

“He?”

“No one lives here but me, and now you.”

Our conversation had taken a heavy turn for having just met. Though I did feel sorry for her. She was clearly delusional.

“I can’t stay,” I said. “I’m not sure what happened to me, but a few hours ago . . . maybe days . . . I’m not sure anymore . . . but some time ago I was home in bed. Now I’m here and a little confused. You say that you’re alone on an unfinished planet, but this all looks quite real to me.”

I gestured to the mushroom we sat on and to the forest around us.

Charlotte pressed on. “As my powers weakened, my mind strengthened, likely to combat my suffering. I found that I could project my thoughts and feelings into my world. It is as if I have infinite powers when really I have none at all.”

None at all? I doubt that.

I was slowly feeling less anxious and more curious. I wondered if Charlotte could explain my chariot ride into this bizarre galaxy.

“Who took your powers?” I asked. “And why?”

I would start there.

“We won’t worry about that right now,” she said, digging her nails into the mushroom. She popped a small piece in her mouth and swallowed it.

I frowned at the idea that she was eating a mushroom from her own mind. I had questions that needed answers, and so far her answers had been vague. I’d already put up with the chariot driver’s imprecision; I wasn’t going to do it a second time.

“What
will
you tell me?” I snapped.

When Charlotte heard me she was digging for more of the mushroom. She looked up at me, crumbling a piece in her hands. Her body drained of color, and her eyes swirled into a deeper shade of green. My dress tightened around me, darkening to match.

Finally, she spoke: “Ask away and we shall see, but tread carefully, my dear.”

I inhaled quietly. “I’m sorry if I offended—”

“Do not insult me!” she shouted, and thunder clapped in the distance.

I looked to the sky in worry of what weather her mind might project.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll ask my questions.”

Charlotte nodded slowly.

I clasped my hands together and shifted so that I was cross-legged. I wanted to appear calm. I spoke evenly.

“A shadow person lured me from my bed to the roof of my house, where a man-creature in a flying chariot kidnapped me and brought me here, to your planet, where he then refused to take me home.” I paused, attempting a smile. “I just want to know why.”

Charlotte smirked, and her lips turned red.

“Let’s get a few things straight,” she said. “No one forced you to go anywhere. You wanted to leave. You bemoaned your life on Earth. You chose to communicate with the other side in Doctor Pine’s house, even daring to taunt the spirit. You willingly followed the shadow man and then agreed to leave in the chariot. You were unhappy for months on your planet, claiming life wasn’t worth living, and now you complain the moment you’re away from your hell? Well I’m giving you a second chance, Jade. Live your life here, with me.”

So Charlotte
could
read my thoughts. Or she had been watching me, somehow. My mind was a carousel of chaos.

“How do you know so much about me?” I asked. “Was it you speaking to me through the Ouija board?”

“No, but that was a way for me to see that you were intrigued by other worlds. I cannot force anyone to leave Earth, though I may extend the invitation. You had been yearning for an escape for too long to ignore.”

“You were the green spot I saw that night? You sent the shadows?”

Charlotte nodded, flashing white teeth.

“More or less,” she said.

“Well who were the shadow man and the chariot driver? What are their connections to you? They didn’t seem to require any sort of . . . space suit,” I finished stupidly.

“Shadow men are merely dark spirits. They exist in all worlds. They are drawn to people full of grief and anger. Whether or not you meant to, you lured them in with your bleak persona after Garrett’s death. Your willingness to speak with them through the Ouija board only pulled them in closer.

“While I am not a dark spirit, I use them sometimes. They find people seeking an escape—the sort of people I need, since I am seeking company.

“Chariot drivers are another story. Since their souls do not function in the same way as ours, they require no special equipment in the skies. They were born from the elements themselves, in the very beginning, before any of us or any of this came to be. They are not assigned to specific planets, and they are loyal to no one.”

“I don’t know about their loyalties,” I said, “but they seem pretty
dis
loyal to Earth. My driver wouldn’t take me back.”

“They envy Earth. They take people from your planet; they don’t return them.”

“So I’ve been told.”

The thunder moaned. Charcoal clouds hung overhead, threatening a downpour. Wind shook the trees until their branches cracked and leaves scattered. One golden leaf drifted toward us in a series of circles each wider than the last, finally landing in my lap. I ripped it into pieces.

“I’ll give you time to think,” Charlotte said.

In one movement she stood and descended the mushroom. She began to walk back to her cottage, and though she was facing away from me, I could feel her staring me down.

She paused at the mirror entrance. I thought that she might turn around and say something, but then she disappeared behind it.

In her absence, the sun reappeared and beamed brightly on my skin. The heat soothed me into a calculating muse. I stared at Charlotte’s house. I wondered how she spent her time, trapped in her own mind. She never had to worry about going to school or getting a job. She never had to wonder if her love was requited.

She had said that I was stuck, that I couldn’t go home, but I didn’t believe her. There had to be a driver somewhere who was willing to help me. Charlotte was just miserable and lonely, but I wasn’t going to stick around to be her pet. It seemed that I would have to find my own way off her planet.