Whole in the Clouds Read online

  “What?”

  “You’ll have to pardon me, little one. We’ve only got so much time, you see,” the tiny man explained.

  Cora stared back, eyes wide.

  “Well, go on, child. You can speak, can’t you?”

  “Well, yeah,” Cora finally managed, “but who are you?”

  “Manners, manners…sorry about that. Must’ve left mine at home. Barnsworth Celius is the name,” he said, dipping into a bow.

  “Well hello, Barnsworth, I’m––”

  “Already know your name, my lady,” he interrupted. “And I told you…the name’s Celius. Come on now, no time for dilly-dally.”

  With confused curiosity Cora stood and followed Celius. As she shadowed him, she couldn’t help but notice that he had an otherworldly quality about him. He was even shorter than she had guessed, three feet tall at most. His cheeks were bulbous and shiny with a deep rosy tint. He had a round, protruding belly and very thin legs. His overall physique reminded Cora of a potato that she’d had to stick toothpicks into for an experiment in the third grade.

  Even Celius’s clothes were odd. His pants were too short for his legs, and they had the color and texture of dark tree bark. The buttons on his moss-colored jacket were made of acorns, and woven wheat reeds stitched the clothes together. From a distance Celius may have almost appeared cute and elfish, but close up, his face screwed into a mass of thick creases and lines. He looked a tad like a dried-up prune.

  “What are you looking at?” Celius asked as he glanced back at Cora. “We all look different down here, you know,” he added.

  “Down here?”

  “Yes, miss, but I don’t have time to be going into all that now, so just save your questions for later, if you don’t mind.”

  Later? thought Cora. After what? She suddenly realized that she was following a strange man deep into the woods. Where was he leading her? Overwhelmed by her questions and doubts, Cora stopped dead in her tracks. Celius didn’t notice and kept waddling forward through the forest.

  Cora plopped down beneath a tree with a huff and waited for Celius to notice. He continued to amble on, mumbling to himself about his lack of time. He reminded Cora of the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland.

  As Celius continued down the path without her, Cora began to worry he’d leave her behind. This had been one of the most interesting days she’d ever had, and she wasn’t ready for it to end. She shifted restlessly in her spot, loudly rustling a bed of fallen leaves. Celius continued on unaware.

  “A-hem,” Cora coughed loudly as she rustled the leaves once more. She looked in Celius’s direction and pretended to be surprised when he turned around abruptly and shot her a scolding glare.

  “What’re you doing all the way back there, miss? Why must you give me such trouble?”

  “I don’t even know you, or where we’re going…or why the heck I’m following you anyway.”

  “I told you, miss, it’ll all be explained in due time.” Celius was visibly irritated. He kept glancing around nervously as if the world were about to close in around him at any time.

  “Well, I don’t care. I’m not following you one more step until you tell me where we’re going, or who you are, or where you’re from, or just…anything!” Cora insisted, her arms crossed.

  “But I’ve already—” Celius began, but Cora interrupted.

  “Yes, I know, you’ve already told me your name, but that doesn’t really tell me much of anything. And you said it backwards anyhow! Why don’t you look like everyone else? How do you know my name? Where do you come from?” Cora had stifled so many questions she’d wanted to ask that now they seemed to flood out faster than she could sort through them. “I won’t go another step until you answer me. Really answer me.”

  Celius’s eyes took on a softer light as he began to plod back to where Cora was seated.

  “I can’t tell much, my dear, it’s not my place, but I’ll tell you what I can,” he said in a weary tone.

  Cora felt a little twinge of guilt shudder through her bones as her new friend sat beside her on the ground. Now that Celius had gone along with her demands she felt too awful about getting him there to recall what it was that she’d wanted to ask him in the first place. Much to Cora’s relief, it was Celius who broke the still silence.

  “Haven’t you ever felt different, like you don’t belong here?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “And don’t it seem like everything is all backwards. Like up is down, black is white and all that?”

  She nodded again.

  “Well, I’m telling you that it ought to feel that way. Things are all backwards here. That’s why we call it The Backworlds,” Celius explained, looking exasperated. “Like how you’re saying your name all backwards down here. There must be a whole lot of Coras here in The Backworlds and still that’s how you start out calling yourself. Better you’d start right proper with your family name first. Then by the time you get to the Cora part, people already know full well which Cora you’re talking about.”

  Cora was absorbing every word to its fullest and relishing the next as if it were a second helping of dessert.

  “You came here long ago, too long ago, but you weren’t meant to stay. We never meant for that. But you’re of age now, you see, and you’ll be coming back home to stay,” Celius seemed to wait a moment for Cora to answer but continued on after pausing without response. “Aw, I’m sorry you’ve been stuck in The Backworlds so long, my lady. It’s clear it’s taken its toll on you. But we couldn’t very well have you running around with a war going on, now could we?”

  Cora was too paralyzed with wonder to reply and Celius seemed disinclined to elaborate. He quietly lifted himself from the ground and turned back toward the pathway.

  “I’ve told more than I should have, miss, so I'll be asking you not to question me no more,” he said without turning around.

  Cora rose from the crumpled bed of leaves and proceeded to follow him. After a few minutes of silence, she began to regret having demanded information in the first place. She felt as if Celius had given her a taste of some delicious treat and then left it sitting in front of her but told her she wasn’t allowed to eat the rest of it. She had even more questions now than she had before.

  “Celius?” she half whispered in a pleading tone.

  He tensed up a bit before responding. “Yes?”

  “Can’t you just—” she started when he promptly interrupted.

  “Bless me backsides, we’re here!”

  “We’re where?” Cora asked as she surveyed the surrounding forest. She was sure this was the deepest she’d ever been in the woods. A small grove of immense, ancient oaks stood directly ahead of them with the most mammoth of the trees positioned at its center. Celius motioned toward the trees with a twinkle in his eye, encouraging Cora to follow him in their direction. He led her to the massive tree at the center of the grove where he then stopped.

  “Ah, and there she be,” he proclaimed, gazing upward.

  Celius looked slightly put off when Cora didn’t share his appreciation for the lofty oak. She studied the tree, taking note of its rich brown bark and outstretched limbs, heavy with golden and deep orange leaves. Its trunk seemed to stretch to the heavens. No matter how far back she craned her neck and how hard she squinted her eyes, Cora couldn’t see its end. Was she missing something?

  “I give up,” she admitted.

  “Are you blind, child? You’re looking right at it,” Celius chastised, seeming less than pleased with what he obviously took as ignorance. Cora shrugged and wondered if anything about Celius would ever make sense to her.

  With a roll of his eyes, Celius stepped toward the gigantic tree and began scanning the trunk closely.

  “There’s a knob here somewhere,” he mumbled to himself.

  Well, that explains it all, Cora thought sarcastically.

  Just as she was about to give up all hope of understanding, Celius spoke again. “You were probably too
young to recall, I suspect. This here is the North Forest Invisivator. Used for transport, she’s the way between our world and The Backworlds.”

  “Invisa-what?” Cora blurted.

  “In-vi-sa-va-tor,” Celius repeated slowly. “I’ve heard tell that the Backworlders have something a bit like it called an elevator,” he explained while probing the tree trunk. “Works the same way but this sends you a lot farther and no one can see you going there—ah, found it!” he suddenly exclaimed with delight, fingering what looked like a big brown growth near the base of the trunk. “A quick turn and—” Celius didn’t even have a chance to twist the knob before the tree began to emit a creaking noise.

  To Cora’s amazement, a small entryway seemed to sprout from the base of the tree and push itself slowly inward. A shaft of light stretched out on the forest floor before it, outlining an ominous, shadowy figure. She held her breath with excitement, wonder, and a bit of fear.

  “My lady love,” Celius said with a surprised breath. “What brings you down?”

  A lovely, soft voice answered with haste. “There’s trouble, Celius. Terrible trouble.”

  Despite the urgency in the shadow-woman’s voice, Cora could not help but be consumed by its perfume and tone. Every word seemed to float through the air like a mist, ensnaring her senses as it twisted its way around Cora’s head. Eager to get a glimpse of the enchanting lady that must accompany such a voice, Cora stepped around to face the tree’s doorway.

  The sight Cora beheld next nearly made her jump back in disbelief. There, surrounded by an angelic white light that emanated from the base of the tree, was the ugliest creature she had ever set eyes on. The woman was draped in a shawl the color of spinach, which only enhanced the mucky brown hue of her dress. The material of the gown itself must have been burlap and was smeared with various shades of dirt. The clothes fit the woman well, Cora thought, as she studied the hag’s ragged, scarred skin and pointed nose. She looked like every picture of a wicked witch that Cora had ever seen, all piled together into one hideous figure.

  “Hello, sweet child,” the woman said, followed by a curtsey. “Barnsworth Beatrice at your service, m’lady.”

  “Um…hello,” Cora returned, unsure if she should curtsey back or run from the grove, screaming.

  “Oh, I’d hoped we could meet under different circumstances, my lady, but I’m afraid that’s not the way of it,” the woman continued.

  Cora stared back, finding herself once again confused beyond measure.

  “This is the other half of me,” Celius offered, sensing Cora’s confusion. She was briefly baffled but managed to work through Celius’s words.

  “You mean your other half? Your wife?”

  “My what?”

  “Your wife?” Cora repeated.

  “She means your mate, my dear,” the woman explained to Celius.

  “Yes, wee one. Beatrice most certainly is my mate…er, wife…er, the other half. Whatever it is you Backworlders call her.”

  Cora returned her attention to the hideous Beatrice. She was fully prepared to begin with a pointed line of questioning when the woman rapidly shed her patience and took on an urgent demeanor, much like Celius had displayed previously.

  “We must go, Celius. Now. There’s been another attack. They’re storming the gates as I speak,” she explained, panic coating her words.

  “And the child?” Celius asked, glancing at Cora.

  “She must stay. They’ve decided it’s too dangerous now.”

  Celius took hold of Cora’s hand and placed it in the palm of his own. It wasn’t until now that Cora fully appreciated his stature. Her hand looked enormous compared to his and nearly covered it entirely. His skin was tough and weathered yet seemed to shine like a tiny pebble that had been worn smooth by years of water washing over it.

  “You must stay, sweet girl,” he said with a soft kindness that she had not heard from him before.

  “But you said––”

  “Yes, I did,” he interrupted. “And I never break a promise…most of all to the likes of you. But as me mate has said, it’s not safe for you to be going up right now.”

  Cora wasn’t exactly certain what she was fighting for as she interjected with a series of “buts.” Celius recognized her pleading as a need for more answers.

  “Time’s wasting,” he began. “But I know you need to understand things, miss. As I told you before, you just don’t belong here in The Backworlds. We’ve been hiding you here until the war’s over, but now that you’re of age and can fight with us, we want to bring you back.” Celius shot a glance toward the tree and Beatrice, as if looking at the hands of a clock whose time was about to run out. “You’re from another place, not this awful Backworlds. You don’t belong and your parents want you home now.”

  “Parents? But my parents are here,” Cora cut in.

  “Those Backworlders? Ah! You aren’t a child of theirs. Your true parents are at home, fighting the good fight to make things right in our world. And you’ll be fighting right alongside them in no time. But now’s not the time, I’m afraid. It’s too soon and you aren’t ready to go up there in the middle of all of this.” Celius explained quickly with a fleeting, worrisome look toward the Invisivator.

  So many questions remained in Cora’s mind and so many new ones had formed as Celius spoke. She couldn’t move. Mouth wide open, she stared numbly at the creatures that stood before her. Beatrice tugged at Celius’s sleeve, motioning toward the skyscraping oak. “They need us,” she pleaded.

  Celius slid his hand from Cora’s grasp and began to walk away. Beatrice had already located and twisted the knob-knot and Cora watched in amazement as the trunk once again seemed to push its way open from inside and present a rounded entryway filled with light.

  “We’ll come back for you, I promise. We’ll come when it’s safer,” Celius assured tenderly. “I’ll find you myself, and maybe you won’t be sleeping the next time,” he added with a wink and shuffled into the tree trunk alongside Beatrice.

  A magnificent purple light shot from the outline of the door and radiated across the forest in all directions. The very woods themselves seemed to come alive, bathed in a magical whimsy of color.

  Just as quickly as Celius had entered her life, he was gone.

  The tree was once again just a tree and she was once again just a chubby little girl. Even the outline of the door had vanished, leaving only the bare bark and questions behind.

  Cora sat in the grove for nearly an hour after Celius and Beatrice had disappeared. She didn’t know if she should go home or even where home was, for that matter. All the events of the afternoon raced through her mind, twisting together until Cora began to wonder if they’d really happened at all.

  “Backworlds,” Cora said aloud. It was the first sound to touch the forest since the pair’s departure. The syllables seemed to shake the leaves of the trees. A nearby robin even leapt from his branch startled and took flight into the evening sky.

  “Oh my gosh!” Cora exclaimed, looking down from the stars to her watch. “I’m so late!”

  Cora managed to find her way back through the forest to the main pathway. Though she hadn’t been paying a great deal of attention while following Celius through the woods, her memory was good enough to get her back to a point where she was once again familiar with her surroundings.

  Her jog fell to a quick-paced walk as Cora reached concrete sidewalk and began to dread returning home. Her parents were certain to be nothing less than furious, and for a moment her anticipation of their anger swept all thoughts of the strange and wonderful afternoon in the woods from her mind. It only took a quick glance homeward and all her worst fears were confirmed.

  The yard looked like a three-ring circus, littered with every fool in the neighborhood. A police cruiser with blazing lights sat in the driveway, making it known to everyone just where the action was. With a low-bowed head Cora sulked toward the commotion, willing it all to disappear. Ironically, no one seemed to noti
ce her join the crowd, and Cora was able to make it halfway up the drive before being spotted by Murna Jones, the widow who lived next door.

  “Saints preserve us, there she is!” Murna exclaimed with a pointed finger, clearly proud that she had been the first to spot Cora. Cora felt like she was wearing the red-and-white striped shirt in a Where’s Waldo puzzle for a moment as the rest of the onlookers attempted to locate her among the crowd. Mrs. Catlin was the second to lay eyes on her daughter, and rushed over in a fit of emotion, sweeping Cora into her embrace.

  “My baby, my baby,” she gushed, squeezing Cora with impossible strength. “Good God, where have you been? Oh, never mind that. You’re safe. My baby’s safe!” A wave of relief washed over her as Cora heard the words “never mind” echo through her head. She wasn’t prepared to tell herself where she’d been all this time, let alone her mother. Or was this her mother?

  Cora’s rapidly approaching father, who looked like a bull raging toward an outstretched red cape, quickly shattered the blissful state of relief she briefly experienced.

  “Never mind, Deb? Never mind? That’s not gonna cut it with me, little lady. Where the heck have you been?” Mr. Catlin demanded. His face was flushed bright pink. Cora saw beads of sweat dripping from his wrinkled forehead. She’d never seen him quite so angry and found herself momentarily frightened. Though silence clearly wasn’t what he was after, it was the only response that Cora had to give.

  Mr. Catlin’s face softened slightly as he neared his daughter and saw how visibly shaken she was by his behavior. Much to her surprise he then leaned down and scooped her into his arms. “Where have you been, baby girl?” he asked, this time much more soothingly.

  “I’m so sorry, Daddy,” she whispered, not able to look in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to—” She began to cry. All the events of the school day and her afternoon came rushing back as Cora buried her face in her father’s shoulder. She didn’t even realize she’d been carried into the house until several minutes later when her tears subsided and she took in her surroundings.