“Neff, are you sure…Neff?” pleaded Sandy.
The swirl slipped across the chasm and paused in front of Neff. Neff put Mollie into her backpack, snapped it shut, put it on, cinched it tight, and stepped to the edge. She said slowly, “You’ll keep your promise, now?”
The swirl moved up and down twice, very slowly.
Neff said, “Okay, then take us home.” She stepped off the edge.
“Noo!” cried Sandy, biting her fist.
Notch sucked in his breath.
Sparky clenched his jaw.
Neff vanished.
There was a long silence.
“Did she make it?” whispered Sparky.
“I can’t tell,” said Notch, eyeing the swirl, which was now heading back toward him.
“Did you see it take her, Sandy?” asked Sparky.
“I think it took her,” said Sandy.
The wormhole stopped short of the edge and hung in midair, spinning slowly.
“Are you up for this?” Sandy asked, glancing at Sparky and Notch, then staring into the swirl.
“Our only chance,” said Sparky, rubbing his hands, which were raw and bloody from pulling rocks.
“I’m having a hard time with this,” said Notch.
“It was you who went first the last time,” said Sandy.
“Yeah, but there was ground under me.”
Sandy stood between Notch and Sparky and put away her light. It was pitch black. “Take my hands,” she said firmly. She held out her hands.
Sparky found one. Notch found the other, his heart beating so fast he thought it would pop from his chest.
Sandy shuffled slowly forward, Sparky with her, Notch a half step behind. “I did not want this,” whispered Sandy. “I did not want this....”
Sandy and Sparky stepped off the edge together, Notch a fraction of a second later.
CHAPTER 59
It Came True
NEFF LANDED IN A PILE OF HAY. “This has got to stop!” she coughed, spitting out a piece of straw. She looked around. It was dark, but a light reflected off the roof above her, a barn roof. “A hayloft!” She sat up. “My hayloft,” she cried, her heart leaping. She got to her hands and knees, crawled to the edge and looked down.
Her mom was on the barn floor kneeling beside Neff’s llama, the vet beside her. The llama was giving birth. Neff crawled to the ladder, started to climb down, paused, took off her backpack and placed it carefully aside.
“Stay here, Mollie. I’ll be back,” she whispered. She clambered down the ladder and ran across the barn floor. “It’s beautiful,” she cried, looking at the newborn baby llama, then at her own mother.
Her mom spun. “Neff. Oh, Neff. Where...? Ohh.”
They hugged. Her Mom wouldn’t let her go. But it was okay with Neff. Tears ran down their cheeks.
“I have so much to tell you, Mom,” said Neff. “Hi, Dr. Steve.”
“Hey, Neff,” said the vet over his shoulder. “The whole town’s been looking for you. It’s like you fell off the face of the Earth.”
“Well, actually....” replied Neff.
“Hi, Mrs. Feeney,” came a voice from the loft.
Neff’s mother looked up, startled.
“It’s Sparky, Mom,” said Neff.
“Sparky?” She frowned slightly, then waved, smiling reservedly at Sparky. “What were you and Sparky doing in the hayloft?” Two more faces appeared beside Sparky. “And Notch? And Sandy?”
“We weren’t in the hayloft, Mom. We were, well, remember my dream—the one about the planet?”
“Yes, I remember. The one that was beautiful, but scary too, as I recall.”
“It came true!” said Neff.
Her mother looked into Neff’s weary eyes, then at her tattered, muddy clothes. “It must have been a heck of a place. I can’t wait to hear about it. Are you okay?”
“Yes. Just beat, Mom, really beat.”
Neff smiled wearily, knelt and hugged her llama’s head. She kissed its forehead and said, “Lily, your baby is beautiful.” She stroked the llama’s ears and asked her mother, “Where’s Dad?”
“He lands in a few hours. I’ll text him. He’ll call when he’s on the ground.” She looked toward the ladder. Sandy was stepping off. Notch was partway down, struggling with Neff’s and his backpacks.
“Hi, Mrs. Feeney,” said Sandy, approaching.
“Hi, Sandy.” Neff’s mother reached out. The two hugged. “It’s so good to see that you’re safe. Your parents and grandmother will be so happy.”
You have no idea how happy Grandma will be. Sandy looked over Neff’s mom’s shoulder at the llama. She blurted, “She looks a lot like Jung.”
“My Lily?” said Neff, staring. “She really does, doesn’t she?”
Neff’s mom looked at Neff, “Who’s Young?”
“A friend of ours who lives,” replied Neff looking at the roof briefly, “out there, Mom. I named him Jung, J...u...n...g.”
“Like Grandpa’s favorite psychiatrist?” asked her mom.
“Yeah.” Neff bit her lip as Notch approached with her backpack, Mollie inside.
“Hi, Mrs. Feeney,” said Notch, handing the backpack to Neff, who quickly put it on the floor behind her, its cover moving slightly.
“Jung is better than Freud,” said Notch.
“Hi, Notch,” said Neff’s mother, hugging Notch. “What’s this about Jung and Freud?”
“I’ll tell you later,” said Neff.
“Hi, Mrs. Feeney,” said Sparky.
“Hi Sparky,” Neff’s mother hugged him and said, “You guys have to call your parents right away. Do you have your phones?”
“I’m out of juice,” said Sparky.
“I traded mine,” said Notch.
“I gave mine away,” said Sandy. To my grandfather. He’d never seen one.
“Okay, let’s not waste time,” said Neff’s mother. “Let’s get you to your parents. You can call them on my phone, while I drive. Tell them to meet us at the Jagged Peak base lodge. It’ll be the fastest for everyone.”
Neff sat in front. As they rode, she turned back to Sparky and said, “I was so scared in that horrible cave, I didn’t think about Snowy and Grell. Did you see what happened to them?”
“I saw them start to run,” said Sparky, “I only hope they made it.”
“Are Snowy and Girl your friends from...up there?” asked Neff’s mother, as she turned up the access road.
“Yes, they are, Mom. But her name is Grell, not Girl...Grell and Snowy,” said Neff.
“Sorry, ‘Grell’, and Snowy.” She glanced at Neff’s muddy, tattered clothes, then in the rearview mirror. “You guys certainly look like you went through the same dream.”
It’s not possible for us to go through the same dream, but it is possible to go through the same experience. Notch stared out the window, grateful to be back.
Some dream. We’re lucky to be alive. Sparky rubbed the back of his neck.
Dream? Does Mrs. Feeney think this was a dream? Will other people think that? Will Grandma? No, she knows. Sandy closed her eyes. She’ll believe me.
CHAPTER 60
I Found Him
HIGH BEAMS FLICKING, HORN BLARING, Neff’s mother wheeled her ancient all-wheel drive wagon up to the Jagged Peak base lodge. As their parents burst through the lodge door, Sandy, Sparky and Notch piled out, hauling their backpacks.
“I found him, Grandma. I found Grandpa Sam!” Sandy blurted. She threw her arms around her grandmother. Her parents glanced at each other then reached for Sandy. The four hugged.
“You...found...Sam?” her grandmother asked weakly, stunned.
Sandy took her grandmother’s hands and looked into her eyes. “Yes, Grandma. Grandpa Sam. I was with him! He went into a wormhole...to get away from a mountain lion. Bu
t the wormhole didn’t take him where he thought it would. It left him on an island. Pirates got him, made him a slave. He escaped, got captured again, then escaped and got hurt. But, he’s safe now, getting better. He can’t wait to come home.”
“My Sam?” cried Louise. “Coming home? When? Got hurt? How? Tell me....” She was beside herself.
“What are you saying, sweetheart?” asked Sandy’s father.
“Let’s go inside, Dad. I’ll tell you about your father,” said Sandy, dragging her grandmother and mother by their hands into the lodge, followed by her father.
They sat at the nearest table. Sandy told them in rapid fire, how she had found Sam, had saved him from the Lowconz, and had taken him to the Snoflian compound in the mountains, and how she had met Neff, Notch and Sparky, who had been in the jungle.
“Whoa, hold on,” said Sandy’s father holding up his hand. “This is too much for me to process all at once.” He rubbed his forehead. “My father, a wormhole, another planet, mountains, jungles, lowcoms, snow fleas. You look exhausted. Are you sure you’re not just...?”
“Please, Rob, let her talk,” said Sandy’s mother. “We’ll ask questions later.” She held Sandy’s hand and looked into her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” said her father. “I only...I’m just...I’m glad you’re safe.” He touched Sandy’s cheek. “I missed you so much.” He thought about the father he had never met, who he had thought was dead and whom he might soon meet.
Sparky’s parents sandwiched Sparky in a hug.
Sparky sighed, “I’m really glad to see you guys.”
“Us too, hon. Us too,” said his mother grinning through tears, holding both his hands in hers.
“Yes,” choked his father, putting his arm over Sparky’s shoulder, “we are.”
“Thank you for bringing me here, Mrs. Feeney,” said Sparky.
“You’re welcome, Sparky,” said Neff’s mother. She looked at Sparky’s parents. “We have lots to talk about. Shall we get together tomorrow?”
“Yes,” replied Sparky’s father. “We can meet here. I’ll call everyone first thing and set up a time.”
“Shall we go?” asked Neff’s mother.
“See you guys tomorrow,” said Neff. As she headed back to the car with her mother, she spotted a helicopter, sitting in the dark on the far side of the parking lot. Before she got in the car, she waved at Sparky and pointed to the helicopter.
Sparky saw it. “Notch’s ride?” he asked his father.
“Yes. It seems the car wasn’t fast enough.”
Sparky shook his head.
“You must be hungry.”
“I am. I really am.”
“Let us get our parkas and we’ll go home,” said his father.
“You won’t believe what happened,” said Sparky, heading into the lodge with his parents.
“Tell us,” said his mother, taking his arm.
“Let me,” said his father, taking his backpack.
“Got to wash that,” Sparky said, holding up the grungy backpack, “and these,” pointing at his clothes.
As they started up the steps, Sparky began. “We got pulled into this whirly thing…”
“I’ve seen it,” said his father. “It was scary. So, anyway.…”
Sparky continued.
When they entered his dad’s office, Sparky saw his backcountry skis in the corner. “Thanks for bringing them down,” he said. His father nodded. His parents grabbed their parkas, hats and gloves and they all headed out.
As soon as Sparky got home, he took a long hot shower, put on pajamas and flopped on the deep, soft couch in front of the stone fireplace. The glowing blaze and scent of burning logs carried him back to the lava field and the lam leaf hut. He picked up the metal poker and prodded the fire. For a moment, he imagined a long, ugly snout emerging from the flames. He jabbed at it with the poker. He could almost smell the burning nostrils.
He leaned back in the warm glow and sighed, “My favorite spot.” He yawned and closed his eyes. He was nearly asleep, when his mother brought him a hot chocolate and returned to the kitchen.
Sparky’s father put another log on the fire, sat in his easy chair by the couch and said, “Tired, huh?”
Sparky nodded. He took a sip, watched the fire crackle for a moment and felt his eyes close.
His father gently took the hot chocolate from his hand, covered him with a blanket, dimmed the light and went into the kitchen.
Notch had climbed out of Neff’s car and headed toward his mother. She hugged him, and, kissing his forehead, nose and cheeks, said, “I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.”
“Me too,” he said.
“Glad you made it back, son,” said his father, patting him on the shoulder. “I was preparing to send an armed search team after you.”
“Thanks Dad. It’s good to be back,” said Notch. The wormhole might have dumped them all in the ocean!
“Shall we get you home?” asked his mother. “You look exhausted.”
“Good idea,” said Notch, picking up his backpack. “Where’s the car?”
“Got the chopper,” replied his dad. “Didn’t want to waste time.”
“Car would have been fine, Dad,” said Notch. “It’s not that far.” A helicopter, in front of my friends? Why can’t Dad be, like, a normal dad? Then he asked, “Why is the chopper even up here?”
“I had it brought from home to help in the search. You can take it for a spin tomorrow.”
“Sounds good,” said Notch pensively. “Thanks.”
Notch strapped himself into the co-pilot seat beside his father and put on his headset. His mom sat behind in the passenger’s seat.
Notch flicked on the lights, yelled, “Clear,” out the window, and watched his father spin the blades to speed.
The helicopter shuddered, rose, hovered, then peeled off down the mountainside.
“You should have seen the chopper I rode in the other day,” said Notch over the intercom. “Three electric engines and a parasail. Awesome. They call it an aerosailer. Uses the engines to get lift, and to control direction and descent.”
“Really?” his father said, glancing at Notch then looking ahead again.
I knew that’d get him. He’ll probably want to make one. Now he’s going to ask a lot of questions.
“A parasail with three electric engines,” said his father. “Intriguing. Tell me, what did the sail look like? What kind of fuselage?”
Here we go. A budding new business. “The parasail was on top, huge, like a monster batwing, and the engines were....”
An hour later, after scarfing down a bowl of gluten-free rice pasta and free-range beef meatballs, Notch made a sketch of the aerosailer for his father. He started to explain how it all worked, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open. “Can we talk about it in the morning, Dad? I’m really beat.”
“Sure, we’ll talk at breakfast,” said his father, studying the sketch.
Notch hugged his mother, high-fived his father and shuffled off to his bedroom. He plugged in his tablet, took a hot shower, hopped into bed, pulled up the quilt and lay back. “Oh, I missed you,” he said, patting his pillows.
He picked up his tablet and emailed his three friends:
You guys okay?
Neff replied:
Mollie loves my bed.
Sparky, who had awakened to the aroma of his mother’s cooking and had just finished eating, texted:
In bed looking at the stars and Snoflia… somewhere.
Sandy, still up, texted:
Grandma keeps asking about Grandpa. Won’t let me alone. Soooo sleeeeepy....
CHAPTER 61
Too Trying to Talk About
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Sandy’s father drove his family up to Jagged Peak for the meeting.
“People
have been calling the office non-stop, since dawn,” he said to Sandy, “asking where you were. Some of the callers had helped in the search. Some are from the media. Some from the government. We’ve been putting them off, saying we’re still gathering facts. We all have to agree on what to say, before I get back to them.”
“Whatever we say, we can’t tell them about the wormhole,” said Sandy. “It would be awful if people found out about it. It would mess up getting Grandpa back. And the Snoflians definitely would not like it.”
“It would be a travesty,” said her grandmother. “It must be kept absolutely secret.”
“I understand,” said her father.
“Will Mark be at the meeting,” asked Sandy.
“Sparky’s dad said he’ll be there.”
“Good,” said Sandy. She stared into the passing evergreens. For a moment, she thought she saw a Lowconz warrior lying dead in the snow. She rubbed her eyes.
Her father glanced at her, touched her hand and drove on in silence.
At the meeting, the four friends told their story. Everyone there agreed the wormhole and the Snoflians should be kept secret.
“So now,” asked Neff, “when people want to know where we were, what should we say?”
“Why not say we were hiding in your barn?” suggested Notch.
Neff gave him a sour look.
“I don’t want to lie,” said Sandy.
“Okay,” said Notch, “then how about, ‘Thank you for asking. We got totally lost. And we’re really grateful to be back.’”
They agreed.
At school the next morning, they used Notch’s suggested line. But it wasn’t enough. They were harassed with more questions, like,
“How did you get lost?”
“Where did you sleep?”
“What did you eat?”
“How did you keep warm?”
“How did you find your way back?” And more.
They met at lunch.
“The story isn’t working very well,” said Sandy.
“How about,” suggested Neff, “we say, ‘Thanks for asking, but it’s too trying to talk about’. We could even, like, cry a little.”
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