LATE SHIPMENT
Trevor stuck his head part way into the drawer. His mom had done the laundry, and now it was filled with clean socks. He pawed through them.
“Got it,” he cried with triumph. From the back corner he pulled out the cloth bag that had been wrapped around the ship’s rug.
After several tries, he finally got the rug rolled tight enough to stuff into the bag. Over the long tear he wrapped scotch tape, then set it on the windowsill.
Silverthorn and Electrum wouldn’t be meeting him in the woods tonight, but Amber said someone was coming to get the rug. He wanted to wait by the window where he could watch for their arrival, but it had taken him awhile to figure out how to get there.
He stacked up two piles of books on the dresser. Between them he placed one end of a wooden ruler. The other end reached the windowsill. Testing it, he pressed down on the middle. It was a little spongy, but not too bad. The books should keep it from shifting sideways. It would be a long fall though if he missed a step. He threw a pillow on the floor just in case.
From his desk he took out a rubber band and stretched it. Bungee jumping wasn’t what he had in mind. He traded it for string. After tying one end to the screen, he stretched it back alongside the ruler and attached it to the lamp.
Outside, the sunlight dipped below the trees casting shadows across the pumpkin patch. It was almost time.
He hoisted himself onto his dresser, trying not to knock anything over. Crouching, he waited. The familiar tingling started. The room grew immense around him. His head swirled and he was looking at the floor that now seemed miles away. He scrambled away from the edge. Panting and clammy, he waited for his heartbeat to slow to something near normal.
Giant numbers on the clock cast a greenish glow on Amber’s backpack, like the light from a cheap monster movie. It might come in handy, he thought and shrugged it onto his back. Heart racing again, he stepped to the ruler’s edge. The string wavered and felt wobbly under his hand.
The ruler had looked flat before, but now the curved surface and slanting edge were all too clear. A rut ran down one side. He tried to stay away from the slanting edge and keep his feet in the rut without turning his ankle. Careful not to look down, he made it across. He took off the backpack and settled into the window’s corner.
He didn’t have to wait long. Minutes later a sprite landed on the outside sill. He poked his head through the screen’s hole and looked around. A big grin spread over his face. “You must be Trevor. I’m Gilder.”
“You know about me?” Trevor asked.
“Sure. Little guy. No wings. Amber’s backpack. You’re quite the hot topic.”
“Everybody knows about me?”
“Naw, just a few of us.” He pushed the rest of the way through the screen and set down a box. “I’m here to pick up the tapestry.”
“It’s there,” Trevor said pointing to the bundle. “It’s not going to fit in that box.”
“That would have been convenient, but the box is already full. I’ll need your help. I’m a little short on time.”
“You guys are always in a rush.”
Gilder shrugged. “Twilight doesn’t last long. I jumped ship to get here. If I’m lucky, I’ll catch up with it before it reaches the gate. If not, I’ll have to lug this thing all the way home on my back. Could you give me a hand with it?”
Trevor lifted the bundle. He was amazed at how heavy it was now. He helped Gilder position it between his wings. “Why did you bring the box? Wouldn’t it have been easier to leave it on the ship?”
Gilder flapped his wings. “It’s too valuable to leave lying around.” He moved his head and shoulders back and forth. “Throw this rope over it and hand me the ends.” He tied the rope in front. “I guess that will have to do. You’ve done the gatekeepers a great service. Any messages for anyone?”
“Tell Electrum don’t forget me.”
“He won’t forget you. We’re all counting on you. Now if you’ll just hand me the box.” As he took it, a thin trail of gold dust spilled from one corner. “See you at the eclipse. Let us know if you need anything before then.” He struggled to squeeze through the hole.
Trevor pushed on the bundle. It popped through the hole. Gilder slipped off the window ledge and dropped out of sight. Trevor gasped and leaned out the window. The sprite had not hit the ground, but the weight of the tapestry was obviously a burden. Slowly he gained altitude, dipping and weaving as he flew.
Trevor said softly, “I hope you make your ship.”
He lost sight of the sprite as he got near the woods. The sky darkened, and he could see a few bright stars. Familiar constellations formed as other stars appeared. Glancing back at the clock, he was shocked at how late it was. Twilight was almost over.
Alarmed, he jumped to his feet and ran onto the ruler. His foot slipped and the ruler shifted. He grabbed for the string. His fingers closed around it, but the ruler tipped off the dresser. Clutching the string with nothing but air beneath him, he screamed with terror. With each movement the string rubbed on the ragged points of the cut screen.
His skin began to tingle. The frayed string snapped. With a trailing wail he plunged toward the dresser. It grew in size and his feet hit with a jolt as he landed, full size, on the pillow.
The lamp slid forward, pushing the books off the edge. One glanced off his shoulder, and another hit his leg. He looked up to see the lamp topple. Instinctively he held out his hands and caught it.
“What’s going on in here?”
Trevor jerked his head around. His mother stood in the doorway with hands on hips. She crossed the room and scooped the lamp from his hands. As Trevor struggled to his feet she plucked at the string. “I thought you were outside using the telescope and here you are – what are you doing?”
“Just playing, Mom.”
“It looks and sounds like you’re tearing the place apart. Let’s not have any more furniture moving, okay?”
“Okay, Mom.”
“And get this room cleaned up.” She set the lamp down and marched out.
Trevor took the backpack out of the windowsill and put in the desk drawer. Just one more night, he thought.
A Sprinkling of Thought Dust Page 38