It called again, this time louder, a fingers-on-a-chalkboard screech. The sound seemed to break apart the night air.
“Just listen!” Cedar whispered, “It won’t hurt you!”
The moonlight filtered through the clouds, falling through the branches, and Cedar saw the movement. She pointed silently up. There, an animal was flying from a tree on silent wings, with a stout, stumpy head. It landed on one of Stella’s huge arms, right above their heads, and let out a loud call. Cedar smiled, her hair full of leaves. Phillip’s eyes bugged out as he stared up at the small brown puff of an owl. It eyed them in the moonlight, little rust-colored tufts pointing down, pivoting in a circle, and then flying off further into the forest.
Cedar turned her head to Phillip and said, “A screech owl. That one usually visits me during Silent Session. Isn’t it beautiful?”
They sat, the impression of the owl lingering in the air.
“Phillip?” Cedar looked at him, as he cupped his knees in his arms. A few moments passed while Cedar worried that bringing him here was a mistake.
Finally, Phillip’s face broke into his small smile. “Amazing,” he whispered, barely audible. And he was hooked.
The next day in class, Cedar walked in and read the whiteboard.
Phillip + Cedar = TREE HUGGERS
There were hearts all around their names. Cedar burned red hot, and dropped her backpack and jacket. She scanned the room to find Miranda and Sam howling with laughter by the cubbies. As the rest of the kids came in off the bus, they looked at the board and either laughed or stared. Phillip sat at his desk, bright pink, pretending to read.
Cedar knew what to do. She walked right up to the board, and began to erase it. The class gawked, whispered.
“Cedar Montgomery, just what do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Doneaway called from the doorway just as Cedar erased the last of the message.
“I was just erasing something that…”
“Did I ASK you to erase something on the board?”
“But someone wrote something…”
“You didn’t answer my question. Did I ASK you to erase something on the board?”
Now the class was full, and Cedar stood in front of all of them, hot pinpricks of embarrassment reddening her face. She looked right at Miranda, her big brown eyes, shooting nails.
“No.”
“That’s right. So sit down.”
Cedar walked speedily to her seat, staring at Miranda, who avoided her gaze.
Phillip didn’t even look at Cedar for the entire morning in class. She squirmed in her seat, like a wild cat in a cage, wanting to escape. All morning, Miranda and Sam seemed to gloat that Cedar had gotten in trouble and they hadn’t. Their voices were louder. Their laughs hurt her ears. Cedar just wanted to run to the forest. She peered out the classroom window, staring at the sheets of bright sunshine, blue sky.
In math class that afternoon, Cedar was working in her book when the pain started. First, she thought it was just a headache from all the attention earlier in the morning. She tried shaking her head, and focusing on equivalent fractions.
It didn’t work.
At the base of her neck came a white-hot pain that caused her to drop her pencil on the floor. Rubbing her neck, she bent over to pick it up. Did I strain my neck sleeping? She wondered. She saw clouds when she sat back up. Pain burst in little bubbles in the corners of her eyes.
Some kids noticed as she shook her head, rubbed her neck.
Just then another a bright, white light seemed to shine on Cedar, causing shooting pain up her neck. It spread like a wildfire, winding though her neck, down into her shoulders and torso. She inhaled a quick breath, twisting in her seat, staring at her math book page. She had never felt pain like this before. Over and over she tried to read the same line, and she wasn’t sure how long she was like that before she heard something at the end of a long, white tunnel. Muffled voices. Harsh.
“Cedar! Cedar, are you there? Earth to Cedar, come in Cedar!”
She realized the voice at the end of the tunnel was Mrs. Doneaway’s.