Across Carina (6 page)

The chariot was small, no larger than a car, so there weren’t many places to stand. Anxiously I peered over the walls of the chariot, but all I could see was darkness. I had absolutely no depth perception. The sky could have stretched on for miles or mere yards.

However, I sensed that the driver could see fine. His eyes weren’t the only focused part about him. His long nose swayed to the right and to the left, and sometimes it paused and twitched—that’s when we turned. We weren’t crashing into anything, and I wondered if he was just smelling or if he was somehow seeing with his nose, seeing past even the sight of his piercing, gold eyes.

He threw his head back and hooted. “Dreaming? What is that? Something you humans do, I presume?”

My eyes widened in horror as I watched him smile the widest of smiles. He had tinted lips and sunken cheeks; he was a little goblin clown. He was shorter than me, perhaps five feet, but I didn’t doubt his strength. Taking this ride had been a mistake. I would have to push him—just not too much.

“You’re not human?” I asked. “What are you?” And then I pleaded, “Please take me back!”

The driver cleared his throat, suddenly serious.

“We visit Earth only to take and
never
to return. You may choose any other destination, and it is my duty to drive you there. For a price.”

I gaped at him. “Take what? People?”

My cheeks grew hot as my palms slid against the chariot walls. I sensed a panic attack coming on. I rubbed my temples, trying to evade it. Dizziness surged through me. My eyes began to close. Then the chariot jerked harshly, and I opened my eyes to a field of vivid colors coming into view.

“What is that?” I asked, leaning forward.

“That’s The Course of the Lost,” the driver said casually. “It pulls anything that has ever been lost in Carina into its orbit.”

“Carina?”

“We’re in a different galaxy now, girl.”

Carina. I thought I’d heard of it once in science class, and it was too far away to reach in half an hour. We shouldn’t have even been able to reach the moon in half an hour, let alone another galaxy. This was unreal.

The driver babbled on. “So if you dropped that circle thing you’re fidgeting with—”

“My ponytail holder?” I asked.

“Yes. If you dropped that out of this car, then it would find itself in orbit with the other objects that you’re about to see. It’s a fun sight, and you always know where to look if you lose something. Quite convenient, I think. I once lost . . .”

I tuned him out, thinking I liked him better quiet. I was not in the mood for stories.

The colors neared us. The first object I recognized was a purple umbrella. It seemed a strange thing for someone to have carried into space. Behind it, a pair of orange socks sped by, or perhaps we were speeding by; I couldn’t tell. Then we were in the thick of it all, and the lost items zoomed past—a paperback novel, a bottle of liquor, a deck of playing cards, a stuffed animal, a half-eaten sandwich, a ponytail holder—

I backed away from the edge and slid my own ponytail holder up my arm. It seemed safer somehow.

An erratic cry sounded, and I turned to see a pink-faced baby orbiting in our direction. I screamed, but the driver hardly noticed.

“It’s easier than you think to drop a baby out of roofless car that flies this fast,” he said. “Don’t be so critical. His parents will find him soon enough.”

My jaw dropped as we floated past the baby boy, who was clothed only in a loaded diaper. I reached for him, but just before I could touch his little feet, I was yanked back into the chariot.

“You won’t be falling out on my watch!” the driver scolded me. “Now tell me where to take you. I have other appointments.”

I was still dizzy, but there wasn’t much room to sit down, and I didn’t want the driver stepping on me. I steadied myself with one of the sidewalls, counting
one, two, three, four
in my mind as I inhaled.

“Well?” the driver demanded.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Just take me to the nearest planet and I’ll figure it out.”

Even as I said it, I realized how truly mad I sounded. I suppose I’d expected a quick ride through space, some grand epiphany, and a prompt return to my house. I knew nothing about Carina or which of its planets would best suit me. I had been tricked and I knew it.

The driver grinned, reaching for the reins. “Ah, Charlotte will be so pleased! It’s been forever since she had a guest.”

He cackled and whipped his horses, seemingly his favorite hobbies. The horses withdrew from their rest and began to fly us out of The Course of the Lost.

Before the last of the colorful objects whizzed by, I heard the baby cry once more. I glared at the driver, but he didn’t notice. He was busy steering us around a space rock the size of a gas station.

Meanwhile, I hardly noticed the rock. I couldn’t stop glaring at the driver. One minute he was worried that I’d fall to my death, and the next he was dismissing an innocent child.

Neither of us spoke for what felt like an hour. I was beginning to grow cold and wished I had been wearing more than pajama bottoms and a tank top when I’d been abducted. I shivered silently as we passed an infinity of stars.

Most of them were far away, in a sea of glowing lights. They shined in waves of turquoise and white, in waves of magenta and blue. But there were a few stars that we got close to. I knew they weren’t fireballs, but that’s what they looked like—massive, bubbling fireballs, ready to blow. Their flares lashed across us, spilling in the chariot.

I screamed, pulling on the driver, begging to understand. I wanted to know why we weren’t burning, how I was breathing without a suit, why I could hear myself talk. I wanted to know if there were smells to be smelled. He wouldn’t explain a thing.

It wasn’t until I saw a gold ball glittering in the distance and asked, “What is that?” that he answered me.

“That’s The Mango Sun,” he said matter-of-factly, “and that’s where I’m taking you, just like you asked.”

“The Mango Sun? We can’t land on a sun! I asked you to take me to the nearest planet! Stop this at once,” I ordered.

But it was no use. The driver seemed to have rules, but he handpicked the ones that he wanted to follow.

“We’re not landing on a sun, you idiot!”

He burst into a fit of laughter, and a thick wad of spit dribbled out of his mouth, matting his beard.

“You are foul,” I said.

I kept thinking,
This is a dream,
but I knew I shouldn’t lie to myself. If I lied long enough, I would split into two people.

As The Mango Sun came closer into view, I saw that it was actually
shaped
like a mango. It was a blend of fire engine red, lime green, and bright orange. It wasn’t as large as I had expected a planet or a sun to be, but I had never journeyed to either.

Beams of golden light shone from The Mango Sun, radiating warmth. I moved to the very front of the chariot and watched with nervous excitement, like an orphan watching visitors from her bedroom window.

In my awe I had begun to lean against the driver, and he pushed me off with a grunt. I moved behind him and leaned over the side of the chariot to witness this half planet, half sun, which wasn’t seeming to increase in temperature as we drove toward it.

Very curious.

The blackness of space retreated behind us as the driver whipped his poor horses to The Mango Sun. I leaned forward to search for clouds, mountains, buildings—any sign of civilization—but all I could see was the planet’s surface, that multicolored peel. Without an atmosphere, we would die.

“Prepare for landing,” the driver instructed.

“Prepare for landing? Are you kidding me? How—”

Before I could brace myself, he dipped the chariot straight down for several hundred yards. My legs flung into the air, and I closed my eyes, fearing my fate. The wind roared in my ears. Without sight or any other sound, I wasn’t sure if I was still holding on to the chariot. Then I felt the driver wrap one arm around me and pull me back down. I clung to him, digging my fingers into his arm until the horses came to a halt and we were upright again.

I opened my eyes. We were in the midst of a fog—red, orange, and green—that was coating the surface of The Mango Sun. Above me I could still see the rest of Carina.

The driver lifted me out of the chariot and set me on the ground, where one of the horses was trying to dig a hole. The other horse bucked, and they were both promptly whipped. Then the driver turned back to me.

“Of all the planets!” he cried with laughter. “What is your name, child?”

“Jade Callaghan!” I shouted back, looking at the horses. I had a feeling I didn’t want to be there any more than they did.

“Well, Jade Callaghan, enjoy your stay!”

“But—”

The last thing I saw was a glint in his eyes, and then the thick haze rolled over him and his chariot as he departed.

I collapsed.

This is not happening. This is not real. This is a dream.

The ground was hard. It felt like it was made of clay. I ran my hands across it, hoping that my fingers would find some blades of grass; but there was no sign of any. Nor was there a sign of any trees climbing out of the fog toward Carina. I heard no voices, felt no breeze, and saw no shapes of any kind, not even of distant buildings trying to hide in the fog. There seemed only to be the clay at my feet and the stars at my head.

I hugged my knees to my chest. No dream of mine had ever lasted this long. I burst into tears, wondering what time it was on Earth and how many hours I’d been gone. My parents probably thought that I had run away, seeing as our last interaction had been an argument.

I dissolved in self-pity, trying to empty myself of the tears that I’d been withholding. As my body weakened, I began to float again. I felt as cloudy as the fog that smothered me.

I wondered if I would ever stop floating. I wondered about Garrett, if he too was alone on a strange planet with no one to catch his tears. Maybe that was how the world ended for everyone. Maybe I had met my end.

And for what?

I wondered if Garrett had been the one to change or if it had been me all along—all those years of disconnect between us. Maybe I had caused it, pushed him away, pushed him into the fire.

I cried some more, but ultimately I knew that I couldn’t stay there crying. I wouldn’t achieve anything that way. And so I stood up and began to wade through the vibrant haze. The driver had said I couldn’t go back to Earth, but I at least had to try. I didn’t want my world to end this way.

The fog was so dense I felt like I could touch it. So I tried. To my surprise, I caught a piece of the fog between my fingers. I grabbed a larger portion and bent it into various shapes and then flattened it out. It was very malleable and smelled of deliciously ripe mangos.

At the thought of food, my stomach rumbled. I rolled the haze into a ball, grabbing the air for more until I had a ball the size of a real mango. Then I bit into it. Though there was no resistance against my teeth, I still tasted a mango’s thick, soft, and sweet flesh. I even pulled a few of its strings out of my mouth and watched them evaporate into the air.

“Amazing!” I cried.

An opening in the fog had appeared, and I thought that I could try eating more of the fog to form a wider path. I snatched the air around me, inhaling, rolling, and devouring it. With each mango I ate, my stomach filled, and the path widened into a spiral.

Finally, I could see something. There was a forest just ahead. It was tall, and as thick as the mango mist.

I had never been keen on wandering into forests alone. I was convinced that I’d see a witch. But behind me swirled red, orange, and green, and it made more sense to walk forward than backward.

In I went.

As I passed through the first set of trees, I heard their branches interlock behind me. I turned around, and there was no longer a way out.

Fortunately, the forest remained well lit, even enclosed in its canopy of leaves. I turned back around to face the path ahead.

The forest was transforming. Blue roses bloomed around a tiny koi pond nestled between two trees. Every leaf of every tree faded into red, orange, or green, apparent theme colors of The Mango Sun. Yellow lily petals drifted to the forest floor. Mushrooms as large as dogs sprouted, forming a path for me to walk. The mushrooms—some rounded, others flat—were red and speckled with white dots.

Faintly, I heard rushing water. I raced toward the sound, shoving bright tree branches out of my way as I scampered up a hill. Leaves crunched under my bare feet. I hopped over a tree log in the middle of my path, and there it was—a pristine, violet waterfall. I had never seen anything so lovely.

I reached for it, and the air breezed beneath me. I looked down, realizing that I couldn’t move any further. Half of my left foot was suspended over the edge of a cliff so steep that I could not see its bottom.

I stepped back, but remained at the edge. There was a great canyon separating me from the waterfall. I watched as water poured down the rocks, enticing me. And then I took one step forward.

“Hello!” I called.

“Hello!” my voice echoed back.

“I’m Jade! It’s lovely to meet you!”

“Lovely to meet you!”

I giggled. “You’re very kind!”

“Very kind!”

“Yes, that’s what I said! Now how do I get to you?”

“How do I get to you?”

“No, not to me! I want to get to y—”

Oh no, I’m losing my mind.

I desperately needed someone to talk to. Hopefully, someone lived by the waterfall. The planet just couldn’t be empty.

Above me the sky was pale blue, and all signs of space were gone. I couldn’t recall having seen the shift. I only knew that I was now somewhere that looked like Earth.

Well, it mostly looked like Earth. The waterfall was lit by a powerful source not visible to me. There was a spot near the top of the waterfall that remained a blinding white, as if reflecting off a sun. It cast a rainbow across the waterfall, and, captivated, I took another step forward.