The world grew suddenly strange and woozy.
One moment Alex was right in front of her, and the next moment he was gone. Evie tried to think clearly, but her head was spinning. All she could see was the tree swirling by in streaks of brown bark, green leaves, white petals, and red apples. The one thing that stayed in focus was a single brilliant apple hanging off a tree branch just beyond her arm’s reach. Evie walked toward it.
“Alex?” she called, but there was no answer.
He’d gone ahead without her.
Evie took a deep breath. Behind her the wind rippled through Father’s orchard, as if it were calling her back, but ahead of her the apple swayed back and forth.
She had to know.
Evie reached out and plucked the apple from the branch and instantly the tree fell back, a distant blur at the end of a swirling tunnel of petals. Evie held the fruit tight to her lips, and took a step forward into the mirage. She bit into the tart skin, the sweet juice trickling down her throat. Then before she could take a breath, she was tumbling from a height so far up she knew she would fall for a very long time.
At last, it stopped.
The relief was so great she felt as if she had fallen into a very peaceful sleep. Every muscle relaxed and her eyes, which had been squeezed shut, were now gently closed. She couldn’t say how long it was before she breathed again. Was she waking up from a long sleep? Had it been minutes or hours?
When she opened her eyes, Evie gasped. She was still in the orchard, but all around her the apple trees were in bloom. Not just her tree, but all of them. She was lying on a bed of moss surrounded by hundreds of flowers and a sweeping blue sky above. The grass was lush and green and plants grew everywhere, weaving in and out of the rows of trees.
Where was she?
Evie stood up. The warmth caressed her skin and she breathed deeply of the perfumed air. She turned in a circle, taking everything in.
“Mom?” she called, searching for the spot where her mom would dash out with hugs and kisses. But it was Alex who jumped from a cluster of sunflowers.
“Now aren’t you glad I ate that apple?” he crowed, hands on his hips. He took off the heavy black coat he’d worn every day since she’d met him and threw it on the ground. Evie peeled off her coat, too, and dropped it in a heap next to his.
“Have you seen my mom?” she asked, but Alex shook his head.
“Not yet,” he said as he spotted an apple in the tall grass. He chased after it, kicking it around the tree, then straight through the two tallest sunflowers.
“Goal!”
He raised both hands high, and his eyes sparkled in the sun.
“It’s perfect here!” Alex said, reaching down to pluck another apple. He tossed it to Evie and she grabbed it without thinking.
“Do you think this is your garden?” Alex asked. “Or maybe it’s heaven . . .”
“I don’t know,” Evie said. “I imagined my garden would be different—with waterfalls and castles and animals.” And Mom, she thought, looking around one more time. “This still looks like Father’s orchard, only Father could never plant this many flowers, even if he worked his whole life.”
They were standing in a sea of them.
“Who says heaven doesn’t look like earth, only better?” Alex asked. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s explore!”
They set off through the apple trees, darting in and out of the center row. Evie watched for signs of her mom’s presence—maybe a note left as a clue to a treasure hunt, or a sandal her mother had lost as she ran ahead of them. But there was nothing.
Gradually her pace slowed, and Alex got so far ahead he had to run back to find her.
“I wonder if the trees go on forever,” he said, breathless, and for a second Evie felt lost. A wave of hot fear swept over her, but she shook it away.
“We could climb the tallest tree and find out.”
“I’ll do it,” Alex said, wedging his foot into the crook of a tree that looked slightly taller than the rest. He pushed himself up, then moved from branch to branch, stopping only once to pluck a fat red apple.
“Alex, you don’t know what will happen if you—”
He bit into it before she could stop him, and Evie held her breath, only this time nothing happened.
“Didn’t work,” Alex said. “Guess it only works with the apples from the tree we grew.”
Either that or we’re trapped, Evie thought, but again she pushed the fear away. Alex had to be right. Theirs was the only magical tree, so of course those were the only apples that were magic. . . .
Evie’s thoughts were interrupted by Alex’s yell.
“Land ho,” he hollered from the top of the tree. “I see your father’s truck, Evie, and the cemetery and there’s your house. They’re not far . . .”
“The world would be my garden, Evie, my love. The whole entire world.”
Was that where Mom was waiting?
Evie took off running, pumping her legs as fast as she could. The tall grass brushed against her as she trampled a path of brightly colored flowers, but Evie didn’t care. She didn’t even care that Alex was calling for her to wait up. She ran until she burst out of the orchard onto her own front lawn.
She stopped, and her breath caught. The yard was full of tulips and daffodils, and the willow tree that tapped on her window was so wide and full that its branches covered the ground. The cherry tree was heavy with ripe red cherries, and her house was a brilliant white, as if it had just gotten a new coat of paint. The sides were completely covered with tiny white flowers, and the shutters, once a battered gray, were bright blue with morning glories.
Evie’s laughter bubbled over. She took a step forward, then before she knew it she was running again, fast as she could, up to the house.
She burst inside.
“Mom!”
Evie dashed from the living room to the kitchen, but both were empty.
“Mom?” she called again, confused. “Where are you?”
Then she paused.
Of course Mom wouldn’t be waiting in the kitchen. Her mother had been a horrible cook! And she certainly wouldn’t be sitting in the cold, drafty living room, where there weren’t even any bookshelves. Mom would be waiting in Evie’s room, taking out the paints and setting up the easel. She’d be snitching one of Gram’s famous peanut butter cups.
Evie raced up the stairs, taking them two by two.
“Mom! I’m here. I came to find you, just like I said!”
She flung her bedroom door open, the smile nearly splitting her cheeks, but in an instant, tears sprang to her eyes.
There was no one inside.
Evie went out again and searched the entire upstairs, but the house was empty. Finally she stepped back into her bedroom and opened the closet door. She peered under the bed and behind the dresser.
How was it possible that her mother wasn’t here? Evie had planted the seed and eaten the apple!
She heard Alex calling below, but she didn’t answer. Instead she latched the door tight and curled up on her bed.
What good was a magical world if Mom wasn’t waiting for her?
For a long time Evie didn’t move, tears making salty paths down her face. Then she got up and pried open her bedroom window. She leaned on the windowsill, resting her head on her arms, listening to Alex’s footsteps on the porch below. A cascade of morning glories covered the shutters, and she pulled a string of them inside, stroking their petals absently.
Maybe she’d come to the wrong garden.
She closed her tired eyes, remembering her mother’s tiny flower patch back in Michigan. She could still see the morning glories exactly where Mom had planted them—only they’d been the white kind rather than the blue. She could almost see Mom with the watering can, and Evie wished with all her heart that the seed had brought her to that garden, back before anything bad had happened.
“I wish I could make everything different,” she whispered.
She opened her eyes, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand, then she sniffed hard. She was about to turn when she looked at the string of flowers. The center one was white now, with tiny blue darts, just like the flowers she’d remembered.
“How did that happen?” Evie asked aloud, but she didn’t have time to figure it out because Alex’s footsteps were clomping up the stairs.
“Are you in there, Evie?” he asked. “If you’re playing hide-and-seek, you’re not a very good hider, because I could see you run inside the house from the tree. I didn’t even need my ghost powers.”
Evie unlatched the door, hoping Alex wouldn’t notice her flushed cheeks and red eyes.
“What’s the matter?” he said, his forehead scrunching up.
Evie shrugged. “Nothing. I thought maybe my mom would be here, that’s all.”
“She will be,” he said lightly, throwing himself onto her bed. “She’s probably just waiting around the corner or something. Maybe there are lots of people out there . . . in town . . . or . . .”
Evie shook her head.
“I don’t know, Alex,” she said. “What if she’s still dead?”
“She’s not,” Alex said roughly, sitting up. “You never believe me, but we’re going to find them.”
Them? Evie wondered. Who else were they looking for? But before she could ask, Alex spotted the flower.
“Hey, look at that weird flower. There’re so many blue ones and one white one right in the middle.”
“I know,” Evie said. “I changed it.”
Alex’s eyes bulged.
“You did what? When were you going to tell me?”
Evie shrugged. “I didn’t think it was that important.”
“Not important? We might have superpowers and you don’t even care?” Alex bounced off the bed. “How did you do it?”
“I . . . well, I was remembering Mom’s garden back home because she used to grow morning glories, only Mom always grew the white ones, so I was wishing these flowers were different, and when I looked down . . .”
Alex had already grabbed the string of flowers and was scrunching his eyes shut, crushing the stem between his fingers. When nothing happened he looked up.
“It didn’t work,” he said, scowling.
“Of course it didn’t. I’m surprised you didn’t kill the poor things!”
Alex scrunched his eyes shut one more time, but again nothing happened.
“You try it,” he said, thrusting the flowers at Evie. “See if it works a second time.”
Evie sighed and stroked the soft petals of the flower on the end. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what it had felt like to change the first one. She’d been thinking of Mom, wishing things were different, and she’d wished it so hard that . . .
This time she could feel the flower change beneath her fingertips, as if a small trickle of life were running through her and she could shape it the way that she wanted.
“Whoa,” Alex murmured. He closed his eyes like Evie had. “I’m going to try wishing for something else—like chocolate or an airplane or, no, wait . . . I’ll wish for a million dollars.”
Evie laughed, but there was only one thing she wished for. Mom.
They concentrated hard, making their separate wishes, but then Alex shrugged.
“Nothing?” he asked. Evie shook her head.
“It’s okay,” Alex said. “I bet we just have to practice, that’s all. Come on,” he added, “let’s try and make a huge chocolate cake in the kitchen.”
Alex bounded down the stairs, and Evie followed slowly behind him, but before she left her room, she turned and took one last look at the perfect white morning glories.