May Bird Among the Stars Page 4

  “Bip bop diddum duddum waddum choo!”

  A torrent of items came flying at them from the doors and windows of the house. A bottle of shampoo flew at May from behind. Just as she turned, somebody pinched the back of her neck, then her cheek.

  “Cootchy cootchy!”

  Next to May, Beatrice crouched to miss a teacup. “Run!”

  “Bip bop diddum duddum waddum choo!”

  Fabbio pulled out his sword and began waving it in the air wildly as they sprinted forward alongside the tracks, dodging the rocks butting out of the soil. Laughter and other sounds of delight followed behind them. So did silverware. A butter knife missed May’s ear by half a centimeter. A fork grazed Fabbio right under his nose, combing his mustache.

  “Gobble gobble gee, gobble gobble guy!”

  “What’s happening?” May asked, craning her neck to look behind her. She could just make out fuzzy, indistinct shapes—balls of mist and light zipping along behind them, occasionally oozing slime in long dribbles on the ground.

  “Poltergeists!” Bea yelled, clutching the sides of her head. “Cover your ears!”

  The group fled across the highlands, and the poltergeists followed—over small rises and rocks, down furrows in the land.

  May, who’d already been ready to fall down from exhaustion, felt her legs going wobbly beneath her, and she finally tumbled forward, thudding into the grass.

  Fabbio came to a halt. Beatrice, Kitty in tow, slammed into his back with an “Ugh.” Pumpkin zipped behind a rock.

  May felt a pair of cold hands on her shoulders and a dribble of slime down her back. “Gobble gobble gobble gobble,” it whispered.

  “Sha na na na?” a voice said. The voice sounded familiar.

  “Diggy diggy?” the poltergeist holding May’s shoulder replied, releasing her.

  “Well, gobble. Gobble gobble.”

  Everyone gazed in astonishment at Pumpkin. He and the poltergeists looked like they were having some kind of meeting.

  Finally, Pumpkin looked back at May and the others, irritated. “Can we have some privacy, please?”

  Bewildered, Fabbio, Beatrice, May, and Kitty walked about twenty yards away

  A few minutes later Pumpkin came floating over to them.

  “They say they can help.”

  “Banna fanna fo fanna!!” the poltergeists called over Pumpkin’s shoulder. Pumpkin slapped his hands on his knees and laughed.

  “What did they say?” Beatrice asked.

  “Nothing.” Pumpkin cleared his throat, shooting a glance at Fabbio’s curled mustache. “Just a joke.”

  “Okay But what are they saying?” May was starting to get annoyed.

  “I told them we’re trying to get north. They said they’ll carry us to paradise if we want. They said the spirits there are pretty brave; they might be able to help us get north.”

  Bea, Fabbio, and May looked at one another. They shrugged. Paradise didn’t sound that bad.

  “I don’t know. Poltergeists are very unpredictable,” Beatrice said.

  “Hobble gobble.”

  “They say that’s typical of specters, to be so rude. They say they’re a misunderstood and oppressed species of spirit that has never gotten the respect it deserves.”

  “Gobble gobble.”

  “In fact,” Pumpkin translated, “they have started the Union Against the Defamation of Poltergeists and suggest you could be held accountable for your comments.”

  Everyone stared, disbelieving.

  “Zippety doo da.”

  “And they said, so what if they occasionally steal stuff and turn spirits mad and try to knock them out with heavy objects? That is their right as poltergeists,” Pumpkin finished with his nose in the air.

  Everyone looked to May for a decision.

  “Why are they willing to help?” she asked suspiciously “Why us?”

  “Dippitydo!”

  Pumpkin paused. His wide, crooked mouth fell into a scowl. He looked at Somber Kitty, then sighed and muttered, “They say, because they like your cat.”

  May looked at Kitty, who licked his paw casually, then at the poltergeists. She looked to the mountains in the north.

  “I don’t know….”

  What if the poltergeists were liars, like John the Jibber had been?

  But then, what other choices did they have?

  “I think … I think out of all of our choices, it may be the least terrible one,” May finally said, looking unsurely at the others, who nodded agreement.

  With that, the poltergeists hoisted them all into the air and started carrying them west across the highlands.

  Chapter Four

  The Edge of Paradise

  It was a couple of hours before the poltergeists stopped up ahead on the dusky horizon and began to gabble, leaping up and down. Their baggage, whom they let down now, looked over the rise and were greeted with an unexpected sight: a patch of scrubby, thin, glowing trees surrounded by a wide moat.

  “Gabble gabble!”

  Pumpkin waved. “Gobble!”

  Without another gabble, the poltergeists zipped off, on to some other adventure.

  Everyone looked at Pumpkin. “What?” he asked self-consciously.

  “We just had no idea you could … do that. You said you could, but …” May trailed off.

  Somber Kitty looked off into the distance and yawned, trying to appear bored. Pumpkin and May shared a smile that only they understood. It wasn’t the first time Pumpkin had surprised her. He blushed.

  They all approached the edge of the moat—which was spanned by a narrow bridge—and tried to peer into the sparse scattering of trees on the other side. Paradise.

  Fabbio cleared his throat. “I have a poem about this. It is called Across the Moat I’m Looking, to See What Is Cooking.’ It is like this….”

  After they’d listened patiently to Fabbio’s poem, which was a sonnet in iambic pentameter, May suggested they cross the moat, but very carefully. If the poltergeists could attack them so easily, maybe others could too, and maybe they wouldn’t be so friendly. She fastened her death shroud extra tight. She didn’t want anyone spotting her as a Live One and blowing their Bogey whistle, which would summon him lickety-split.

  “Wait, what about Kitty?” Beatrice asked.

  May looked down at her cat. There wasn’t much use of her looking ghostly when he looked so very alive and, well, catlike. “You’re right,” she said with a sigh, embarrassed. She could be so forgetful sometimes.

  “Kitty, you’re going to have to hide here until we find out what kind of spirits are around,” she said.

  “Meay?” Kitty mewed softly and sadly, tilting his head to one side and giving May his best sad kitten eyes. But May shook her head.

  “I’m sorry. ”

  Somber Kitty sneezed reproachfully. Then he curled up under some nearby branches. “Mew,” he said, with finality.

  Everyone gave him a kiss on the top of the head as Pumpkin stood and watched, making jealous kissy faces behind their backs. Fabbio lingered, stroking Kitty’s ears. “You stay safe, little Kitty.”

  Under Somber Kitty’s watchful gaze, they each crossed the moat, Pumpkin insisting on floating directly behind May. Then they disappeared into the trees.

  The travelers made their way slowly through the grass. “Yow,” May whispered. “Ow. Ouch! Pumpkin!” She turned around. Pumpkin stood centimeters behind her, biting his fingers.

  “Can you please stop stepping on my heels?”

  “Can I have a piggyback?”

  “No,” May hissed.

  “Can I go back and wait with Somber Kitty?” he whispered.

  “If you want.”

  “Will you take me?”

  “No!” May, Fabbio, and Beatrice said in unison.

  Pumpkin was silent for a few moments, then he whispered, “Can somebody hold my hand?”

  May sighed, but she let Pumpkin slip his frigid fingers into hers.

  A few minutes later they approa
ched the last of the cluster of trees, obscuring what looked like a clearing. Fabbio stuck out his arm theatrically, and they all came to a halt. “On count of three, we pull back branches and look.” Beatrice, however, had already pulled aside some branches. They leaned forward.

  The sight was breathtaking. In the evening starlight lay a wide vale—a deep, sprawling valley of green grass that spread itself downward in a bowl toward huge, slate gray cliffs that climbed into the sky. And crashing along down the middle, breaking against the rocks in great puffs of white foam, was an enormous waterfall—glowing neon blue water rushing toward a large pool, where it crashed and foamed with deafening speed. Waterslides, burrowed smoothly into the rock, wound down the cliffs on either side of the falls, curling toward the lagoon below Tiny purple and yellow nightshade flowers floated on the grass like polka dots on a green dress, along with a giant trampoline and something that looked like a cannon.

  Tree houses dotted the trees around the field, and several tents made with sheets and sticks were strewn across the lawn. A sweet breeze blew through the glowing grass. Ukulele music floated from some unknown spot, playing a sweet Hawaiian tune.

  Fabbio wiped a tear of joy from his eye. Beatrice let out a long sigh. Pumpkin squeezed May’s hand tighter. May felt a smile in her heart. Just looking at the beautiful water had a peaceful, soothing effect on her. “Paradise,” she whispered.

  Suddenly, from the left, a knot of spirits, their heads stuck with feathers, came barreling past the trees. Another group chased after them, shooting arrows and yelling wildly.

  Some were missing heads or arms or legs. Others were bent and twisted into odd shapes. Besides the feathers they had tucked in their hair, they wore aviator suits, loincloths, swim trunks, camouflage. Never in the Ever After had May witnessed such a ragtag group of spirits.

  As the travelers looked on, a figure bringing up the rear seemed to catch sight of them out of the corner of his eye. He skidded to a halt and aimed one of his arrows in their direction, peering at them through the trees.

  “Nobody move,” he said. A white line of sunblock ran the length of his nose, his green eyes sparkled wildly He wore a pair of fluorescent orange shorts and an orchid-printed T-shirt. He had a slight bluish tinge to his lips. After studying them a moment longer, he lowered his arrow and held a hand up in the air. “What’s up, dudes?”

  May looked at the others, then back in the direction in which they had left Somber Kitty. Pumpkin gave her a little shove forward.

  “Um, hi.”

  The spirit thrust his hand toward May. “Name’s Zero.”

  “I’m May Bird.” May gulped, tightening her death shroud. “This is Beatrice Heathcliff Longfellow, Pumpkin, and Captain Fabbio.”

  Zero directed his widening smile at Beatrice. “Welcome to paradise.” Then he seemed to recall something. His mouth lowered in a frown. He lifted his arrow again, aiming it at them.

  “You’re trespassing.”

  Chapter Five

  Risk Falls

  The travelers huddled together on a boulder in the middle of the grass, staring out at the hundred or so specters who had gathered to catch a glimpse of them. “Ohhh,” Pumpkin moaned, cowering behind May. Beatrice gave him a look that urged him to be brave. The spirits were a fearsome group—mostly young, all mangled or maimed in some way. By the way they were dressed, May picked out snake charmers, race car drivers, mountaineers, parachutists. To the right, those not curious enough to join the gathering occasionally hurtled over the edge of the falls, screaming and plummeting with a crash into the lagoon. A few shot out of water cannons nearby.

  Zero levitated above the boulder beside them, as if he were presenting them for show-and-tell. “Listen up, y’all,” he bellowed. “I caught these spirits in the trees, spying on us.”

  “We weren’t really spying on you,” Beatrice offered helpfully. “We’re trying to get north and—”

  One of the spirits in the crowd waved his hands in the air. He was missing his lower half.

  Zero pointed to him. “What’s up?”

  “Where’s the pizza?”

  “What pizza?” Zero asked, looking around hopefully.

  “Dude, I thought they were delivering a pizza.” The lower-halfless spirit and a few others muttered among themselves disappointedly, then trickled away. May hadn’t even known specters liked pizza, but she remembered what Pumpkin’s master, Arista, had said about old habits and how specters liked to hold on to them after they were dead.

  “I ain’t got noboooody,” Pumpkin nervously trilled. May nudged him hard in the arm.

  “I caught these guys spying on us from the trees,” Zero repeated to the spirits who were left. “And you know how we changed our motto to ‘Members only.’”

  One goateed spirit with a bungee cord wrapped around his neck spoke up. “Nah. You’re thinking of those Members Only jackets we got from the thirdhand store in Dismal Hollow. We changed the motto to ‘The more the merrier,’ remember?”

  “That’s right,” another spirit said, running her fingers through her long blond hair. She was missing part of her face. “It’s ‘The more the merrier,’ Zero.”

  “Oh, yeah.” Zero scratched his head, thinking.

  “I interrupted Spiky Death Ball for this?” somebody muttered. The group of specters began to scatter, some running up the stairs carved into the hill that led to the top of the falls, some running over to a trampoline and leaping on it, doing levitating tricks high in the air.

  The group on the boulder began to fidget, realizing they weren’t in as much trouble as they’d thought. Fabbio twirled his mustache impatiently.

  Finally, Zero turned a winning, good-natured smile upon them, his gaze resting longest on Bea. “Sorry about that, dudes. I got mixed up. We’re happy to have you.”

  “Well, we don’t want to impose,” Bea said, blushing.

  Zero waved a hand dismissively and shook his head. “No way. That’s our motto here around Risk alls: ‘Come one, come all.’”

  “But I thought—,” Pumpkin started, but May gave him a look that silenced him.

  Zero tucked his hands deep into the pockets of his tropical shorts. “Actually, we don’t have any rules here. But we do have parties. We’re having one tonight. You should come.” He winked at Beatrice, then looked around. “You want the grand tour?”

  They followed Zero onto the grass and toward the lagoon.

  “What is this place?” May asked. “Why is everyone all …?”

  “Mangled?” Zero laughed, his laughter bubbling out. “Risk Falls is the premier destination for thrill seekers in the Ever After. We all died in some kind of accident. That’s how I got my name, in fact. I used to be called Arthur. Zero was my score at the surfing competition where I died. Total wipeout, man!” Zero gave the vale a sweeping, relaxed glance. “We have a bunch of people who died going over waterfalls in barrels. They’re, like, the backbone of the community. But it was the surfers”—Zero winked and cleared his throat—“who founded the place. We also got skydivers, bungee jumpers, cliff divers, mountain climbers. Pretty mainstream stuff.” He shrugged, his broad shoulders rolling back. “Then you got the obscure stuff. Sword swallowers, fire-eaters, crocodile hunters …” He paused to watch a teenager paddle by with her barrel, and they nodded at each other. Zero turned back to them. “Man, everybody’s got a story.” They followed him up a steep footpath along the side of the waterfall until they were about halfway to the top. Zero stepped onto a ledge and drifted to the left, disappearing into a gap between the cliff and the waterfall. “This part’s tricky for first timers.”

  May looked at Bea, who was staring at the back of Zero’s head. When she noticed May looking, she quickly looked away and then followed behind the curtain of water.

  “Wow.” Pumpkin sighed.

  Honeycombed throughout the rock face behind the cascading water were countless nooks, deeply scooped out of the slate gray surface as if they had been balls of ice cream. Many of the hollo
ws shone with warm blue light; some were plastered with holo-posters of surfers coasting down three-dimensional waves or mountains or climbers scaling rock faces. There were tiki torches, enormous colorful flowers, and starlight sconces. Each entrance was hung with bamboo curtains, and many of them were tied open.

  “These’ll be your rooms if you decide to hang,” Zero said, motioning to the left.

  In each room a hammock hung on either side of the hollow, with a small bamboo table on the floor in between and a skull lamp decorated with paper parasols. A tiny skull wearing a flowered headdress on the bureau opened and closed its mouth, crooning a lilting Hawaiian tune: “Sweet Lelani, heavenly flower …”

  They kept moving, following Zero to the top of the falls, which afforded a beautiful view of the stars crossing the sky, the Hideous Highlands, and the mountains in the Far North. A telescope perched on the highest crag of rock was turned toward the view below.

  “We like to see if there’s any trouble we can get into,” Zero explained, nodding toward the telescope. “If, say, there’s a band of ghouls we can sling ectoplasm balloons at or a pickup game of skull hockey. Here, take a look.”

  Down to the south, May could just pick out the faintest hint of an absence of glow, a shadow hanging in the air. “That’s where they’ve been destroying towns,” Zero commented, noticing the direction of her gaze. “First thing to go are the lights. Now they’re putting up Cleevilvilles, which don’t glow at all. It’s gotten bad over the last few months.”

  May and Bea looked at each other. It was just as they’d feared back at Everville.

  Zero hummed a little song to himself. He looked perfectly at ease.

  “Are you worried?” May asked.

  Zero shrugged. “Why?”

  “Well, what if they come for Risk Falls?” she ventured.

  “Dude, what’s there to worry about? We’re already dead.”

  “But the Bogey … he can turn you into nothing by sucking your spirit through his fingertips! And Bo Cleevil …” May didn’t quite know what Bo Cleevil could do.

  Zero concentrated for a moment. “I’ve heard of them.”

  May stared at him in shock. He gave her a reassuring smile.