Please don’t be sad with what I have to tell you. I’ve found my birth parents, and I’m going to visit them. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone or how to tell you where I’m going. I’m not totally sure myself.
Just…don’t worry. I’ll be safe and I’ll come back soon. I’m taking Motley with me. He’ll protect me.
Please don’t come looking for me, you won’t be able to find me. Please be happy for me. I love you.
Love, Cora
As she read the words back to herself Cora imagined her parents’ response. She knew they would be heartbroken no matter what she wrote.
Celius took the letter, reading through it. “Motley? Who’s Motley?” he asked.
“My dog. My best friend,” Cora replied. “He has to go, my mom would probably take him back to the pound if I left him behind.”
“I expect that ought to be just fine,” Celius replied as Cora leaked a sigh of relief. “Now get on your way, young thing—all this dillydallying has nearly wasted the afternoon away.”
Cora left Celius behind and hurried down the sidewalk to her house. On the walk home Celius’s brightly colored words combined with Cora’s own daydreams of the adventures to come. These vivid fantasies made the housing development seem all the more drab. As Cora continued in silence, she gained a secret satisfaction in knowing that she would soon be far from this life.
Cora scanned the driveway and garage to make sure her mother wasn’t yet home from work and then entered the house. She almost felt like a burglar, as if she no longer belonged and wasn’t allowed inside. She found Motley chained to a tree in the backyard. He wagged his tail frantically at the sight of her and wiggled himself into such a frenzy that Cora would’ve thought they’d been apart for weeks. She told him her plans in a whisper while sneaking around the house and gathering up things she thought she might need.
Cora’s final task was placing the letter in a conspicuous place. She decided the best spot would be on the edge of the kitchen counter. It looked so stark and final lying against the tan countertop and she averted her gaze from it just as tears leaked down her cheeks. Motley pawed affectionately at Cora’s leg. She smiled at him through a watery haze and slung her backpack over her shoulder. “You’re right, boy. It’s time to go,” she told him and headed out the door.
#
“About time, girl. Let’s get on outta this crazy place,” Celius greeted. “I’ve seen enough of The Backworlds to last me a lifetime!”
“Sorry,” Cora replied.
“And this must be Motley,” Celius said with affection, looking down to meet the dog’s gaze. “It’s just grand to meet you,” he said with a bow. “You’re a handsome little devil.” Celius paused for a moment, as if waiting for something to happen. “What’s wrong with the feller? Why won’t he answer me?”
“Answer you? You mean talk?”
“Well, yeah. What else would the bugger do?”
Cora was utterly confused and on the verge of becoming frustrated. She was about to make a short and pointed reply when Celius spoke again. “Ah, curse my mind, I forgot. The four-legged fellows can’t talk a peep down here in The Backworlds. It’s their punishment for following folks down to this awful place.” When he noticed the perplexed look on Cora’s face, Celius continued, “You see, the canine folk came from Clouden. That’s why they’re all full of goodness and light. They followed the humans who came down, to protect them from harm in The Backworlds.”
Cora tried her hardest to absorb this new information while gazing into the knowing eyes of her dog.
“Come on, let’s get on with it then. Your folks will be none too pleased with me for having taken so long.” Celius said as they found their way back down the path to the Invisivator. They kept a quick pace and in record time Cora found herself standing back in the magical grove.
Celius scampered over to the enormous oak and began poking around for the knot-knob.
“Guess it’s a good thing it’s so hard to find. Keeps the riffraff out!” he said with a wink, still scanning the trunk. “Ah, here we are!” he proclaimed, delighted.
If she hadn’t known it was real magic, Cora might have thought the purple haze coming from the trunk was a ruse. Its luminescent tendrils crept out across the forest floor like the vines of Jack’s enchanted beanstalk.
“Have you ever seen stardust before, my lady?” Celius asked, watching the amazement in Cora’s eyes.
“Can’t say that I have,” she replied in a distant voice, all the while staring at the haze that was drifting closer.
“It’s nothing to be scared of,” Celius comforted as Cora’s expression of awe turned to one of concern. Even Motley began to look slightly apprehensive as the purple cloud licked at his paws.
Celius held out his hand to them as he walked into the cloud. “See, it’s not harming me,” he said soothingly. Cora and Motley began cautiously inching their way over. Cora was first to step into a patch of the purple light and found it cool to the touch. Shimmering flakes of what looked like miniature stars floated through the air and danced in front of her eyes. Sweet sounds of tinkling wind chimes rang around them as Cora led Motley closer to the tree.
“Celius, I can’t see you!” she called out.
“Keep on, miss. Listen to my voice and you’ll find your way!” he responded. “Darn it all if this showing off isn’t going to get you lost out here in the North Woods!”
“What?” Cora asked.
“All this fuss is for you. Overdid it on the stardust a wee bit if you ask me. They just want to wow you, but all this is a bit much if you ask me. Could’ve done without it myself,” he explained. Cora could nearly make out his small outline now, set against the trunk of the great tree.
“Almost there, boy,” Cora urged Motley forward. “We’ve just about made it.”
“Ah, there you are,” Celius said with a relieved sigh. “Now to get you home.”
Celius stepped inside the trunk and called Cora to follow. The interior of the Invisivator would’ve been dark enough to frighten her if it hadn’t been for the lingering stardust. It shimmered and lit up the interior enough for Cora to make out Celius and Motley perfectly.
“It’s okay, Motley,” Cora promised, uncertain if she was trying to convince Motley or herself. She looked upward and into the cavernous, hollow trunk above them. Bits of stardust sprinkled the walls and helped to determine its height, but it seemed to stretch for miles. Cora resolved that the Invisivator was taller than any structure she’d ever seen.
“Hold on to yourselves,” Celius warned, reaching to his left, toward a knob similar to the one on the outside of the trunk. He gave it a good twist and the ancient oak began to creak all around them. The trunk soon gave way to the sound of rushing wind. Cora realized the noise was coming from above them and that as it grew louder she could feel something tugging at her clothes and hair. The wind seemed to be pulling her up, like a great vacuum, suctioning her up through the top of the oak. Cora shot a panicked look at Celius, whose voice was so faint against the rushing wind that she could scarcely hear him.
“It’s all right, girl. Quite normal, really,” he shouted.
Cora looked at Motley, hoping to provide reassurance and found him staring down at the ground below which was now nearly fifty feet away. Looking back at Celius, Cora noticed tree bark whizzing behind him as the trio was sucked farther and farther up the trunk.
Suddenly the trunk’s blackness transformed into a bright flooding light. They had cleared the vast tree and were now speeding through an iridescent pipe in the sky.
Cora stared down in amazement as the world below grew smaller beneath her feet. The oak at the heart of the forest faded into the other trees as the entire wood itself became only a piece on the patchwork quilt. Her town’s streets became veins in a larger body of neighboring cities and then washed away as if enveloped by tan skins of vast mountainside.
Cora glanced at Celius, and her jaw dropped. To her amazement he was changing before
her eyes. It was almost as if he were melting away to reveal a completely different person beneath. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, let alone blink, as his skin washed away like watercolor. She recoiled in disgust, expecting to see only bones beneath but was quickly overcome with surprise.
Celius’s rough, wrinkled skin eroded and was replaced with soft honey-peach flesh that shined against the ever-approaching sun. The small, muddy eyes that had barely peeked out from behind the crow’s feet surrounding them suddenly grew large, wide and then changed to the color of the sea. His matchstick legs grew long and strong and his hunched back straightened and stretched. Cora was so overcome by the magic that had occurred before her very eyes that she barely noticed when the rushing wind stopped.
“I take it by the look in your eyes that you didn’t hear anything I said, beautiful miss,” Celius surmised.
Cora couldn’t find the words to respond.
“That was quite a ride,” said a third voice Cora didn’t recognize.
Cora shook her head, desperately trying to clear her mind. She looked downward, toward the unknown voice, only to see a magnificent steel-blue Great Dane.
“Wh…where’s Motley?” she sputtered. Her mouth felt so dry, as if she hadn’t uttered a word in ages.
“I’m right here, Cora,” the voice replied.
Cora thought that she’d seen the Dane’s mouth open but shook her head in disbelief and directed her attention back to Celius.
“What the heck is going on? Where’s Motley?”
“He’s right by your side as always,” said the newly-transformed Celius, pointing to the Dane standing next to her.
Cora glanced down at the dog once more. There was a familiar glimmer in his eye. He cocked his head and blinked curiously back at her, as if waiting for acknowledgment.
“It’s me. Motley.” This time Cora was certain she’d seen the dog’s mouth move. “Didn’t you hear what Celius said?”
Cora's knees wobbled as a soft blackness overcame her. And then there was nothing.
Seven: Things Are Quite Different Here
It was late when Cora woke to find herself nestled in an ivory down comforter that smelled of lavender. Trying to shake the heaviness of sleep from her bones, she studied her surroundings with interest.
The room in which Cora slept was unlike any other she’d ever seen. The ceiling was curved and supple, and instead of pictures, the walls were adorned with various shiny trinkets, all held up by long trails of ribbon, in a rainbow of colors. Shifting in the miniature oval-shaped bed in which she lay, Cora wondered if this room belonged to a child. She studied the brightly colored shelves facing the bed, piled with trinkets and toys, and decided it simply must be.
After she felt that she had inspected the room thoroughly, Cora began to question where she was. She stood up, ready to set off in search of answers, when a noise from the ground beside the bed stopped her.
“Hey, you’re awake!” Cora jumped, startled by the voice. She looked down to see the Great Dane sitting at her side.
“You seem in better spirits,” he continued, meeting her curious gaze.
“Are you really Motley?”
“You better believe it!”
“But you look so different! And, well, you talk!” Cora nearly shouted in disbelief.
“I ’spose it’s a good thing dogs have such better hearing than you humans,” he boasted, “Based on that whole passing-out episode I’m guessing you didn’t hear Celius tell us we’d change back to ourselves once we left The Backworlds.”
“Err, no.”
“Wasn’t much of a surprise to me,” Motley flaunted. “I’d heard that I’d get my voice back, but the new duds are a bonus. What about you? I’d imagine you’re pretty pleased with the way you’ve turned out.”
“Turned out?”
“Yeah, you match now. You know, your inside and outside. You aren’t backwards anymore.” Motley gestured his head toward a mirror across the room. “Take a look.”
As Cora made her way to the mirror she felt overwhelmed by the magic of this place. Her steps seemed more delicate. Or was the ground softer? As she neared the mirror, Cora strained to see her reflection in the dimly lit room. The only source of light was a delicate lamp swaddled in velvet.
Cora squinted through the darkness at the mirror and was astounded to find someone else staring back at her. An ethereal girl looked quizzically through the glass. She had flowing copper-red hair that glistened like spun silk and a pair of the most haunting green eyes Cora had ever seen. Her skin was the color of baby-doll porcelain and when coupled with her slightly flushed rosy cheeks resembled strawberries and cream. The girl’s mouth, pursed in confusion, was delicately shaped, her lips a natural of crimson that no makeup could duplicate.
“Who is that?” Cora whispered, turning to question Motley. She began fantasizing that this fairy-book princess was trapped inside the mirror by an evil witch, and that perhaps Cora could rescue her.
The corners of Motley’s mouth curled up into a grin. Cora had never seen a dog smile before and found it entertaining. “Who do you think she is?” Motley teased.
“Quit it, Motley! Who is she? Is she trapped or something? We should help her!”
Motley scoffed, “If we dogs weren’t here to lead you around you’d never make it anywhere! Come on Cora. Think. Don’t you remember what Celius said? About everything being backwards for us down there?”
“Well, yeah,” Cora replied.
“Okay, so things are right-ways up here. Insides match the outsides. My inside now matches my outside and the same goes for you. There are no tricks here.”
Cora turned back toward the mirror and noted that the girl was now looking deeply concerned and a little perplexed. The worry lines on the beauty’s forehead reminded Cora of the ones she wore every morning before school. With a breath of realization, the lines smoothed and faded. Cora reached her hand forward and touched the smooth surface of the cool glass. The girl did the same. When Cora opened her mouth to speak, so did the girl in the mirror.
“It’s the real you, Cora,” Motley whispered from behind her.
“It’s me?” Cora watched the girl ask. “It’s me,” she said again, this time more confidently. She stared in awe as tears streamed down the girl’s cheeks. As Cora lifted a hand to wipe them away she saw slender, delicate fingers where there had once been sausage links. She frantically tried to dry her eyes, so she might take a closer look at this new body. Motley waited patiently as Cora stared on, breathless with amazement.
The light of day crept in through the window and diverted Cora’s attention. “How long have I been sitting here, Motley?”
“Not that long,” Motley lied.
“I have so many questions,” she mused, looking around the room with renewed interest. “We ought to find Celius. I wonder where he’s run off to.”
“Celius said to wait here until first light and that he’d be back to check on you then.”
Cora flopped down onto the edge of the bed with a sigh and cradled her chin in her hands. She was filled with newfound confidence that made her ache to discover and experience new things. She didn’t want to be cooped up all day waiting for Celius. “Let’s go find him,” she said with a mischievous air.
“Oh no, no you don’t. Celius made me promise that we’d stay right here and that is exactly what we’ll do.” Motley insisted with a stomp of his paw. “He brought you here because it was the nearest place to rest. He said you were in a fragile state!”
As if called to action, Celius walked in just then, smiling.
“Cora, it’s good to see you upright and eyes wide open once again,” Celius greeted. He was even more handsome and vibrant than she recalled. “You look a sight, my lady. It’s truly a blessing to see you in your true form,” he continued. “I’d venture your parents will be even happier to see you.”
“My parents?” Cora had nearly forgotten about her birth parents.
“They’ve been achi
ng to see you for years. Having you so close is driving them mad. I told them you had a spell and they’re waiting patiently for you to feel better so you can reunite.” Celius explained, waving toward the open doorway.
Cora, with Motley on her heels, scampered out of the room into the bright light of day. Her eyes adjusted too quickly to the blur of daylight and she felt herself growing dizzy. The brightness was abnormally difficult to take in but it wasn’t until she saw the strange white ground that lay just outside the cottage that Cora realized why.
Her reaction was steadied by a preemptive reminder from Motley: “Remember Cora, we’re in Clouden now. Things are quite different up here.”
“It’s true, you wise beastie. I suppose all this will take a bit of getting used to, Miss Cora,” Celius admitted. “Even the very ground beneath your feet has changed,” he mused, poking at the ground with an outstretched foot. “If you ask me, I much prefer walking on clouds to that nasty, dirty earth. That mess gets all between your toes and everything you touch. Only in The Backworlds!”
Cora smiled at the sight of Celius’s bare feet, his pink toes twittering amid a soft fog that seemed to float just above the cloud-floor. Her smile grew as the white tendrils reached out to tickle the bottoms of her feet and she erupted into a fit of giggles.
“You’ll get used to the clouds in no time, Miss Cora,” Celius said in response to her laughter, “I have to say that I think they’re tickling you a little extra because they’re welcoming you home.”
#
The sun was setting on the horizon as Cora saw something she had only ever pictured in her imagination. The blanket of white that began at her feet stretched out for miles, dotted here and there with small cottages. A cobblestone pathway traced through the clouds and disappeared into the distance. Thick, spiraling vines similar in breadth to trees lined much of the rock-laden lane and though it was only faint in the distance, Cora could distinguish the outline of a castle at the path’s end.
“That’s where we’re heading,” Celius explained, watching Cora gape at the castle in the distance.
Whole in the Clouds Page 5