them, so I’m thinking maybe we could start there?”
I smiled. “Perfect.”
We walked across the parking lot to the willow cluster. Will turned on the camera. It was dark now: the screen threw off light like a flashlight.
“I’m setting this to loop continuously,” he explained, pushing buttons.
“Would you mind going first, just so . . . I don’t know; I think it would be easier if I watched you first.”
“Sure.” Will smiled and turned to the trees.
A breath of wind passed us, and the willows rustled in response, a whispering chorus.
Will approached the murmuring branches, faded and was gone.
He reappeared seconds later with a huge smile. “You’re going to love it.”
“Yeah, okay.” I held out the camera where I could see it.
“The camera is going to go invisible at the same time you do because you’re touching it.
Just a heads-up.”
I nodded. That would have distracted me.
“Oh, and Sam, one more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Step away from the branches before you come back. In case branches explode like
water.”
I nodded, trying to smile. I looked at the tiny bright screen and saw the creek in miniature perfection. The water looked glassy-still, but as I watched, a pine needle cluster worked free from a rock and spun lazily into the current and out of the frame. The image rippled away. My invisible lips smiled, confidence coursing through me. I turned to the willows.
Leaves and branches tickled their way right through me. I wanted to giggle. I caught a scent component: greenish, damp, and full of life. Maybe it was even a flavor rather than a scent. I turned to take another pass—again, the fresh soothing taste passed through my mind.
Again, the willows shivered against me as I moved ghostly-smooth in my invisible state.
Incredible. I had to tell Will about it. I rippled solid.
“It’s like I have to invent words for what that felt like, and the incredible taste—wow!”
We tried out different words for the sensation of the willow branches as they passed through us: “prickly” and “needling” we rejected, “slithery” and “ticklish” worked.
“You’ll like passing through glass if you liked that,” he said. “But it’s too early to risk being seen in front of school. We should probably wait ‘til after midnight for that.”
“My curfew’s 11:30.”
“Oh. Right. So maybe we head over to the bakery now? You’ve got to try a rock wall.”
He grinned eagerly at me.
I nodded and we turned to walk down Main Street. “How did you figure out you could
walk through walls? That must have taken some nerve the first time.”
“My dad threw me at our fireplace when I was seven. Instinct kicked in and the next thing I knew I was invisible and sailing right through this screechy brick wall. I stood outside, trying to figure out what happened, and if I was dead or alive. A few days later, I got curious enough to try walking through.”
“Um, did you just say your dad threw you at a brick wall?”
“Yeah. He was pretty drunk.”
“You could have died. What was he thinking?”
He shrugged as we walked on. “He storms in one night shouting for money. I ripple and hide behind the couch ‘cause I’m scared. He grabs Mickie and puts her in a headlock and calls for Mom, saying how he’s gonna squeeze Mick’s brains out if Mom doesn’t bring him some money right now .
“I’m watching all this from behind the couch and Mom comes out of the kitchen and sees Mickie and freezes, tells him to let go of her, she’s a child, stuff like that. Dad’s shouting even louder how he knows she’s hiding a hundred thousand dollars somewhere in the house, and she better get it quick. She grabs an envelope she got at the bank that afternoon. I’d been with her and watched them count it out, and I know it’s only a couple hundred, so I’m getting pretty scared what he’ll do if he counts it. Plus Mickie’s face is a bad color, and I’m thinking he might actually
I smiled. “Perfect.”
We walked across the parking lot to the willow cluster. Will turned on the camera. It was dark now: the screen threw off light like a flashlight.
“I’m setting this to loop continuously,” he explained, pushing buttons.
“Would you mind going first, just so . . . I don’t know; I think it would be easier if I watched you first.”
“Sure.” Will smiled and turned to the trees.
A breath of wind passed us, and the willows rustled in response, a whispering chorus.
Will approached the murmuring branches, faded and was gone.
He reappeared seconds later with a huge smile. “You’re going to love it.”
“Yeah, okay.” I held out the camera where I could see it.
“The camera is going to go invisible at the same time you do because you’re touching it.
Just a heads-up.”
I nodded. That would have distracted me.
“Oh, and Sam, one more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Step away from the branches before you come back. In case branches explode like
water.”
I nodded, trying to smile. I looked at the tiny bright screen and saw the creek in miniature perfection. The water looked glassy-still, but as I watched, a pine needle cluster worked free from a rock and spun lazily into the current and out of the frame. The image rippled away. My invisible lips smiled, confidence coursing through me. I turned to the willows.
Leaves and branches tickled their way right through me. I wanted to giggle. I caught a scent component: greenish, damp, and full of life. Maybe it was even a flavor rather than a scent. I turned to take another pass—again, the fresh soothing taste passed through my mind.
Again, the willows shivered against me as I moved ghostly-smooth in my invisible state.
Incredible. I had to tell Will about it. I rippled solid.
“It’s like I have to invent words for what that felt like, and the incredible taste—wow!”
We tried out different words for the sensation of the willow branches as they passed through us: “prickly” and “needling” we rejected, “slithery” and “ticklish” worked.
“You’ll like passing through glass if you liked that,” he said. “But it’s too early to risk being seen in front of school. We should probably wait ‘til after midnight for that.”
“My curfew’s 11:30.”
“Oh. Right. So maybe we head over to the bakery now? You’ve got to try a rock wall.”
He grinned eagerly at me.
I nodded and we turned to walk down Main Street. “How did you figure out you could
walk through walls? That must have taken some nerve the first time.”
“My dad threw me at our fireplace when I was seven. Instinct kicked in and the next thing I knew I was invisible and sailing right through this screechy brick wall. I stood outside, trying to figure out what happened, and if I was dead or alive. A few days later, I got curious enough to try walking through.”
“Um, did you just say your dad threw you at a brick wall?”
“Yeah. He was pretty drunk.”
“You could have died. What was he thinking?”
He shrugged as we walked on. “He storms in one night shouting for money. I ripple and hide behind the couch ‘cause I’m scared. He grabs Mickie and puts her in a headlock and calls for Mom, saying how he’s gonna squeeze Mick’s brains out if Mom doesn’t bring him some money right now .
“I’m watching all this from behind the couch and Mom comes out of the kitchen and sees Mickie and freezes, tells him to let go of her, she’s a child, stuff like that. Dad’s shouting even louder how he knows she’s hiding a hundred thousand dollars somewhere in the house, and she better get it quick. She grabs an envelope she got at the bank that afternoon. I’d been with her and watched them count it out, and I know it’s only a couple hundred, so I’m getting pretty scared what he’ll do if he counts it. Plus Mickie’s face is a bad color, and I’m thinking he might actually
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