Bridge to Terabithia - Katherine Paterson [24]
“We’ve been away for many years,” Leslie was whispering. “How do you suppose the kingdom has fared in our absence?”
“Where’ve we been?”
“Conquering the hostile savages on our northern borders,” she answered. “But the lines of communication have been broken, and thus we do not have tidings of our beloved homeland for many a full moon.” How was that for regular queen talk? Jess wished he could match it. “You think anything bad has happened?”
“We must have courage, my king. It may indeed be so.”
They swung silently across the creek bed. On the farther bank, Leslie picked up two sticks. “Thy sword, sire,” she whispered.
Jess nodded. They hunched down and crept toward the stronghold like police detectives on TV.
“Hey, queen! Watch out! Behind you!”
Leslie whirled and began to duel the imaginary foe. Then more came rushing upon them and the shouts of the battle rang through Terabithia. The guardian of the realm raced about in happy puppy circles, too young as yet to comprehend the danger that surrounded them all.
“They have sounded the retreat!” the brave queen cried.
“Yey!”
“Drive them out utterly, so they may never return and prey upon our people.”
“Out you go! Out! Out!” All the way to the creek bed, they forced the enemy back, sweating under their winter jackets.
“At last. Terabithia is free once more.”
The king sat down on a log and wiped his face, but the queen did not let him rest long. “Sire, we must go at once to the grove of the pines and give thanks for our victory.”
Jess followed her into the grove, where they stood silently in the dim light.
“Who do we thank?” he whispered.
The question flickered across her face. “O God,” she began. She was more at home with magic than religion. “O Spirits of the Grove.”
“Thy right arm hast given us the victory.” He couldn’t remember where he’d heard that one, but it seemed to fit. Leslie gave him a look of approval.
She took up the words. “Now grant protection to Terabithia, to all its people, and to us its rulers.”
“Aroooo.”
Jess tried hard not to smile. “And to its puppy dog.”
“And to Prince Terrien, its guardian and jester. Amen.”
“Amen.”
They both managed somehow to keep the giggles buttoned in until they got out of the sacred place.
A few days after the encounter with the enemies of Terabithia, they had an encounter of a different sort at school. Leslie came out at recess to tell Jess that she had started into the girls’ room only to be stopped by the sound of crying from one of the stalls. She lowered her voice. “This sounds crazy,” she said. “But from the feet, I’m sure it’s Janice Avery in there.”
“You’re kidding.” The picture of Janice Avery crying on the toilet seat was too much for Jess to imagine.
“Well, she’s the only one in school that has Willard Hughes’s name crossed out on her sneakers. Besides, the smoke is so thick in there you need a gas mask.”
“Are you sure she was crying?”
“Jess Aarons, I can tell if somebody’s crying or not.”
Lord, what was the matter with him? Janice Avery had given him nothing but trouble, and now he was feeling responsible for her—like one of the Burkes’ timber wolves or beached whales. “She didn’t even cry when kids teased her ’bout Willard after the note.”
“Yeah. I know.”
He looked at her. “Well,” he said. “What should we do?”
“Do?” she asked. “What do you mean what should we do?”
How could he explain it to her? “Leslie. If she was an animal predator, we’d be obliged to try to help her.”
Leslie gave him a funny look.
“Well, you’re the one who’s always telling me I gotta care,” he said.
“But Janice Avery?”
“If she’s crying, there gotta be something really wrong.”
“Well, what are you planning to do?”
He flushed. “I can’t go into no girls’ room.”
“Oh, I get it. You’re going to send me into the shark’s jaws. No, thank you, Mr. Aarons.”
“Leslie, I swear—I’d go in there if I could.” He really thought he would, too. “You ain’t scared of her, are you, Leslie?” He didn’t mean it in a daring