“What was that? What did you do?” Elijah frantically asked from behind the birch he still clung to. His body shook. 

“Magic. It was magic!” Is all that she answered. 

“Impossible. Magic doesn’t exist.” He said. 

“How do you know? Do you know everything?” 

“No.” 

“Then it’s magic.” Hanna stated matter-of-factly. 

Elijah sighed. He didn’t have an argument at the moment. His mind was still rushing around at a hundred miles per hour trying to rationalize what he had just seen away. 

“Okay, alright.” Is all that he could answer in a low, defeated tone. 

Hanna smiled widely at that response. She glanced up to the sky. 

“Crap, what time do you think it is?” 

Elijah followed her eyes to the heavens. The sky was now a noticeable shade lighter than it had been when they left. 

“Iunno. Maybe two?” 

“Crap, I promised gramma that I would go with her somewhere tonight.” 

“Where?”

“Up to the Rez.” She answered, “Gonna see my uncles and stuff.” 

“Oh, Marty and Jes?” 

“Yep.” She answered as she looked to the sun again, “Gonna be a long drive and my gramma doesn’t like driving in the mountains in the dark. Let’s go.” 

She sprinted out in front, and led him, once again, through the trees. As they approached the stream, Elijah followed her onto the log, balancing on the way, as the stream seemed just a little bit wider and a little bit wilder than the last time he had seen it. He figured that perhaps there was rain just a little further up the mountains. 

They descended the rock wall — Elijah sliding down one rock at a time on his backside until he finally reached the bottom, then they continued. They burst through the circular clearing, and passed by the shed and the barely-a-pond. Elijah had to do a double take at the surface of the lake as the way one of the clouds floating above cast a shadow over its surface looked like something as big as the pond itself — if not bigger, stirred beneath the algae layer. 

“Hurry!” She called back as he slowed down. “I don’t want to make her angry.” 

“Okay.” Is all he said as they once more passed into the woods. 

 

It took a lot less time for them to navigate through the woods; as the path carved through Hanna’s previous romp was still stamped down. They passed the last of the trees, and Hanna waved to a hunchbacked old woman wearing a dark blue cowl brought up over her ears, lingered at it’s edge near one of the larger granite boulders at the beginning of the climb down. 

They stopped at the tarmac road. Waited until it was clear and sprinted across, and continued down the slope. Hanna bounded over the barbed wire fence; nearly landing face first in the dirt beyond. Elijah crawled on his belly beneath it and the two continued on their way through the middle of wanderer’s ave; past the cul-de-sacs, and past the ancient farmhouses, and slowed to a stop in front of the mailboxes. 

“Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” She said as her shoulders rose and fell as she caught her breath. 

“Okay.” Elijah sputtered out. 

She was off again before he could straighten himself out. She knocked three times on the large wooden door of the farm house at the end of the lane, and waved backwards at Elijah — still bent over at the waist sucking up air by the mouthful. The door swung inward, and Hanna stepped beyond the threshold. 

“Come in! Come in!” 

Mrs. Greenwood continued to chat to the young girl in now unintelligible syllables as the door swung shut behind the two of them, and Hanna vanished into the large house. 

Elijah straightened himself out and strode down the lane at his own pace. Brutus ran up the drive when he got to the large white shed; his thin tail sweeping through the air. Elijah slowed as Brutus neared and scratched behind the bloodhound’s ears as the two of them walked.

His legs ached. His arms ached, and his mind was still buzzing by the things that he had seen today, so much so that when he finally got home and was able to sink into the couch once again to pick up his book still sitting on the arm, he couldn’t get himself to crack it open, and so he stared at the wall until his mother came in and sat on the love seat catty-corner to the couch. 

“So? Was it everything Hanna said it would be.” 

“I... I don’t know.” He said. “It was neat though, yeah.” 

“What do you mean?” She asked. 

Elijah turned to his mother and regaled her with the story of Hanna’s dance with the tiny tornado, of the glowing flower, and of the distant choir. He told her of the large shadow beneath the algae covered pond, and the scramble up the boulder wall. 

As he spoke his mother leaned forwards over the gap between the two couches and placed the back of her hand on his forehead. 

“Oh, you’re burning up!” She said, quickly retracting her hand, “How are you feeling.” 

“Tired.” He answered. “I’m tired.” 

“Go lay down.” She motioned towards his room, “You were probably just imagining things. You’re running a fever.” 

“Yeah.” He said as he trailed his eyes away from his mother and back to the wall, “You’re right.” 

Relief rushed through him like cold water as he pushed himself onto his feet. He shambled across the brown shag carpet and pushed through his door and collapsed on his bed. The springs squealed as they caught him. He flipped flopped on the bed in order to wrap himself in his light sheet. Tiredness washed over him, and he was quickly swept off to sleep.