Half World (23 page)

They were gone.

The rustling grew a little louder, verging on the edge of a soft roar.

Leaves. Small silvery leaves glinted on slender boughs. The sudden breeze smelled slightly bitter and sweet, like sap in the spring.

Melanie stood in a glade of young aspens in the middle of a pristine vale. Growing here and there were small clusters of young, leafy trees, and brilliant stars lit up the night skies in oddly shaped constellations, though a light seemed to be growing, from which direction she couldn't say. Time seemed to hover between dusk and dawn. The air smelled green.

She inhaled deeply and the air tasted delicious.

Her heart felt lighter.

Baby G twisted inside her arms. When a cool breeze skated over his skin he began to shiver.

Melanie frowned. She looked around but could see nothing she could use. She set the baby down on the soft grass and quickly tore several feet of cloth from the bottom of her dress. She awkwardly bundled up the infant.

Baby G gurgled with satisfaction.

What place had she come to now?

It certainly wasn't Half World. But it didn't smell like her own Realm, either.

Which way should she go, to find the way back home?

One direction seemed have begun glowing a little brighter. She turned toward the light, when her foot snagged on something hard and she almost fell. Staggering, hopping as she struggled not to fall upon the baby, Melanie finally regained her balance.

“Ouch,” she said belatedly. She rubbed the raw top of her foot against the back of her calf.

What was that?

It didn't feel like the nature stuff in the rest of the glowing glade.

It was definitely growing lighter, because she could see more details. There was something sticking out of the grass.

It looked like a metal handle.

Melanie tilted her head with thought. She experimentally tapped the ground with her heel.

A hollow sound.

Melanie knelt beside the metal handle and ran her fingers around the flat surface. Square in shape, it was a trapdoor made of wood. She experimentally pulled at the handle.

It was stuck fast.

Melanie moved Baby G several feel away from the trapdoor, then grabbed the handle with both hands. She heaved and strained, her temples almost bursting with the effort, until the seal began to give. She released her hold and took several deep breaths. Then she pulled firmly but carefully once more.

The trapdoor suddenly popped open and fell out of her hands just as a vast, stinking beast roared in the space beneath her, clouds of black exhaust billowing upward.

“AH!” Melanie shouted and kicked the door shut with her foot.

Her heart pounded until the smell of the terrible clouds filtered into her consciousness.

Exhaust.

The exhaust from a vehicle.

Could it be?

Melanie crouched beside the hatch, pried it up, and held it partially open.

Directly below them, around fifteen feet away, was a strip of broken white lines painted onto concrete. A dingy orange light cut through a film of automobile exhaust.

The roof of a small sedan whipped past, followed by a dark pickup truck.

Melanie's eyes widened.

She was
above
the Cassiar Tunnel.

But not on Adanac Street, where she and Ms. Wei had stood so very long ago. This was a different place. Something new and growing . . .

She gazed once more at the perfect glade, so separate from the din and pollution beneath her. She looked through the hatch for the way back to her noisy and messy world.

Attached to the wall directly below the hatch was a small metal ladder. She could just make out a sign beside it near the bottom. SECONDARY EMERGENCY EXIT, it read. Sighing, Melanie clutched Baby G awkwardly to her chest. She took one last deep draft of the perfectly green-smelling air of her special glade.

Maybe, one day, she would be able to find it once again. Melanie lowered her feet onto the rungs of the metal ladder. It felt disgusting on her bare toes, sticky, tarry with exhaust fumes and particles of oil. She curled her toes around the metal and stuck her free arm deep, so that she gripped the rung with the inside of her elbow. Using her elbow to hold her weight, she inched downward with her feet, almost dangling, as she held Baby G in her other arm.

Just imagine, Melanie thought. To make it through Half World and come back home only to fall off a ladder in the Cassiar Tunnel. It would have been hilarious if it weren't so precarious.

The occasional vehicle whipped by. No one seemed to notice the young woman crawling down the inside wall of the tunnel. Melanie prayed that she wouldn't be passed by a semitrailer. The tailwinds would certainly suck her to her death.

Panting, keening from the pain in her elbow, Melanie made her awkward way down, Baby G keeping very still the entire way.

When her feet touched the firmness of concrete she almost wept with joy.

A driver caught her in the corner of his eye. The sound of the horn blared, amplified in the confines of the concrete tunnel.

Melanie's heart plugged her throat.

She coughed in the aftermath of the exhaust.

Baby G was coughing as well. She had to hurry and get out of the poisonous air.

Melanie walked out of the garish orange lighting of the Tunnel onto the freeway.

It was night.

She had no idea what day it was.

For all that she knew, time might have passed by more quickly, here. Who could say?

Melanie's eyes were dry. Her throat ached. Her feet were growing cold. Yes, it had been autumn when she first left her Realm. She remembered that. She had come here with Ms. Wei so very long ago.

Ms. Wei . . .

Something warm began to grow inside her chest.

She would go to Ms. Wei's store. Knock on her door. Ms. Wei would let her in.

Melanie began tottering down the side of the freeway. She didn't realize she was on the verge of collapse. That with each step she took she was that much closer to falling.

A white car whipped past and slammed on its brakes, screeching wildly. It swerved a little as it hit a patch of gravel when it pulled onto the narrow triangle of pavement between the freeway and the feeder ramp.

The slam of a car door. Pounding footsteps.

The cops, Melanie thought dully. Oh, well. They could take her and Baby G to Social Services. She was an orphan now. They both were. It didn't matter.

A rough hand circled her back. It was enough to make Melanie topple. An arm stopped her forward fall and also plucked the baby from her.

Melanie had not realized how heavy the baby was until he was gone.

She looked groggily at her captor.

Ms. Wei's worried face glared back, fierce with concern, eyes intently searching her face. When the old woman saw that Melanie's Life was still in her eyes, her expression softened. “Melanie has come home,” Ms. Wei said wonderingly. “Ms. Wei knew it! Ms. Wei called a cab and came as soon as she knew! Come! Come!” She nudged Melanie to the cab and helped her inside.

It was warm. Smelled like artificial air freshener.

Melanie sagged as the weariness hit her like a sledgehammer.

“Listen, lady,” the cabdriver said excitedly, “I can't take you any farther so pay me my fare! You make me stop at a place like this! You didn't say nothing about a baby! There's no baby seat, 'kay! I could lose my license!”

“Silence!” Ms. Wei bellowed. “This girl has saved taxi driver's life and Ms. Wei's life and the lives of everyone in Three Realms! So say nothing about licenses, fool! Drive Ms. Wei back home this instant!”

Cowed, the cabdriver hunched his shoulders protectively around his ears. He glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “Crazies,” he muttered. “You better pay me!” he added indignantly.

Ms. Wei turned to Melanie as the car roared forward. “Close Melanie's eyes. Rest for now.”

The warmth from the heater seeped into Melanie's aching limbs. Her taut muscles relaxing, she felt like a puddle of water.

It felt so good. To let go.

She—

MELANIE DID NOT
know if it was the knocking that woke her up or the rich smell of something delicious.

Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk.
The sound came again.

Something was bubbling. She could hear the
buku buku
sound of a savory simmer.

The babbling chortle of a contented baby.

Melanie had no idea where she was.

Her head felt sluggish and empty at the same time. A yellow light shone through a window. She was lying on a bed, underneath a heavy comforter, in a filthy, ragged white dress, with soiled feet.

What a mess she had made of the clean, crisp sheets! Her flare of concern was immediately swamped by her exhaustion. She lay flat atop the mattress like a jellyfish on land. Well, it was done with anyway.

It was done with. . . .

Her mother had said that.
It is done.

Melanie stared at the ceiling.

Of course.

She had made it back, and somehow Ms. Wei had known to come and pick her up.

This time, a knock came on the door.

“Come in,” Melanie rasped.

Ms. Wei nudged backward into the room. She carried a tray that had four legs. Numerous small bowls and plates clattered, and the most enticing aromas filled the small room.

Melanie's stomach rumbled loudly. She sat up and yelped at the stiff pain that sang out all over her body.

“A hot bath would help.” Ms. Wei narrowed her eyes. “Which first? Food or bath?”

“Food!” Melanie cried eagerly. “Please,” she added. She slowly shifted back against the headrest and patted the quilt flat upon her legs.

Ms. Wei set the tray on the bed, and Melanie's eyes fairly popped out of her head with delight.

The old woman began pointing to each dish. “Congee,” she said sternly. “Good for convalescence. Easy to digest and warms the Spirit. Clear chicken broth. Mustard greens. Egg tofu. Steamed sole. Only a little bit! Chrysanthemum greens. Jasmine tea. And”—her voice softened—“a little bit of cake.” She smiled and her eyes disappeared into happy creases. “Eat!” She frowned, stern once more. “Not too fast!”

Melanie nodded. She picked up the bowl of congee and the ceramic spoon. A sprinkling of chopped green onions garnished the top. She scooped a small portion into her mouth, and the gentle savory flavors, subtle but rich, were marvelous. Salty, a hint of ginger and the rice slow-cooked until it was mealy and sweet. Her stomach squeezed painfully and she eagerly spooned another mouthful. A third and a fourth.

She lowered the congee and picked up chopsticks. It was so difficult to choose! So many little plates of food.

“Just a little bit at first,” Ms. Wei explained. “It startles the stomach if one eats too suddenly after nothing at all. After this small meal Melanie can have a proper supper later.”

Melanie chewed on the pungent, slightly bittersweet stem of the mustard green. There were so many layers of taste and smell. If she closed her eyes the flavors were like sculptures upon her palate.

Melanie stopped chewing. “What time is it?” she asked.

“It's eleven in the morning,” Ms. Wei said gently. “But of the second day. Melanie slept through the night and the entire next day. Today is Melanie's third day back.”

Melanie swallowed. “Oh,” she said. “Wow.”

“So tired,” Ms. Wei sighed.

Melanie nibbled on the steamed egg tofu. She looked around the room, slightly confused. She couldn't stop feeling that there was something missing. . . .

“The baby!” she gasped.

“Shhhhh, shhhh,” Ms. Wei said reassuringly. “The baby is fine. Ms. Wei had supplies from the market and he's no worse for wear. He slept as much as Melanie did! And lucky for Ms. Wei, who is too old to be getting up all hours to feed an infant.”

“I'm sorry,” Melanie said. She looked down at the tray. “He's not your baby to take care of. . . . ” She frowned. “But he's not mine, either.”

“This is so.” Ms. Wei nodded thoughtfully. “Well! Eat first. Melanie has much to tell. But there is no rush. Eat. Bathe. Then Melanie will tell a tale from the comfortable chair by the window. In the sunshine.”

Melanie's chin suddenly wobbled. “Yes,” she quavered. Smiled. “That's a good idea.” She took a nibble of the steamed fish.

She had never had such a fish in her entire life. “Ms. Wei,” she said solemnly, “this is the best meal I have ever eaten. Thank you very much.”

“Ahhh!” Ms. Wei exclaimed, flapping her hand with embarrassment. “This is nothing! When Melanie is better Ms. Wei will make a great steamed lobster!”