For a moment May remembered her picture, the one of her in the woods, dressed as a warrior with Somber Kitty at her side. You are that girl, the Undertaker had said.
May tried.
“Everyone get ready,” she said, cocking her arm back behind her shoulder.
They readied their weapons and waited for the Bogey and his dogs to arrive.
Somber Kitty could smell tears on the air. He could see the shape of May clearly now, and the others she was with—though she hadn’t yet seen him with her inferior human eyes. The smell of fear—of May’s fear—was also in the air, and Somber Kitty, confused, looked in the direction that May and the others were looking, toward the black specks that were growing larger on the horizon. Suddenly Somber Kitty’s nose twitched madly. His skin began to tremble on his bones. The specks weren’t specks anymore. They were dogs.
Somber Kitty stopped in his tracks. A low growl began deep in his belly, and he stayed frozen, torn, distraught.
With the very last of his strength, he ran.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
A Figure in the Distance
They could hear the dogs’ breath now, could even smell it. They were almost upon them.
Pumpkin, May, Beatrice, and Fabbio looked at one another, then back across the sand. The train was close now; they could see a skeleton wearing an engineer’s cap at the front window. But it was too late. In another moment the dogs were there, yelping and screeching, pouring around them. Beatrice and Pumpkin crouched and held up their hands to defend themselves. Fabbio and May stood before them bravely. Fabbio waved his sword at the dogs uselessly. “Not another step!”
One dog was lunging for his throat when a high sharp whistle pierced the air, causing the dog to snap its jaws shut just inches from Fabbio’s face. All of the dogs sat, but only just. Their teeth dripped bloodthirsty drool. They whimpered at being so close to their prey and unable to attack.
And then, from behind them, floated the Bogeyman.
He was smiling as he made his way around this dog and that one, his pointy teeth bared, his eyes crinkled up in what looked like a laugh.
May winced. Behind her she could hear the train squealing to a stop, and then the doors sliding open. She wanted to tear her eyes away to look back at the train, gauging their chances for making it, but she couldn’t get herself to move an inch. She rolled her eyes to the side.
“Don’t even try . . . ,” the Bogeyman rasped, his voice—without the speakers—coming out low and whispery. He seemed to know what she was thinking. “You take one step, and a hundred Shuck dogs will tear you apart.”
He floated up to May and ran his fingers along her chin. “There’ll be nothing to help you now, May Bird.” He looked around at the others. “Now is your time to die.”
The Bogeyman held his fingers up to May’s face and placed the suction cups on her cheeks. May felt her vision going black.
Suddenly there was a squeal on her left. A shape shot forward and tackled the Bogey around the waist. It took a moment for May to realize who it was.
“Pumpkin, no!”
The Bogeyman, though thin and gaunt, did not even sway. He seemed amused as he plucked Pumpkin off him and tossed him onto the ground, stepping on him with one black-clad foot. “I’ll save you for Mama. She loves house ghosts.”
A whimper came from behind him, and then Mama padded up beside the Bogey, a full three times bigger than the other dogs.
Behind May a voice called, “All aboard.” May jerked her head to see a skeleton conductor standing on the top step of the train door, seemingly oblivious to all that was going on. In another moment he disappeared into the car, and with a sickening thud, the doors closed. The train chugged into life and began to pull away.
May felt the last hope die within her. Beside her, Beatrice began to cry. The Bogeyman once again stretched his fingers toward May. Her skin went tingly, and then it began to stretch.
At that moment Mama let out a huge snuff, loud enough to make the Bogeyman look down at her. “Don’t be jealous, Mama. You’ll have your turn with the others.”
But Mama wasn’t listening to him. She had begun to whimper. And then a strange thing began happening with the other dogs. They all lifted up their heads and sniffed at the air, curiously at first. Then a few tails became ramrod straight, a few ears pricked up, and every one of them began sniffing and huffing hard, standing up and looking all around them.
The Bogeyman let go of May for just a second.
“Run!”
It had been Captain Fabbio that yelled it. And it was a hopeless cause. But they all started running, not toward the train but away from it, away from the Bogeyman, taking the dogs by surprise just enough so that they got a minuscule head start as they rushed across the sand.
It wasn’t enough.
They ran toward a slight rise in the sand, the dogs just on their heels. May waited for the first set of fangs to sink into her back. She crested the rise and then, at the sight of a figure before her, stumbled forward.
May landed hard on the sand, dazed and blinking. She forgot about the dogs behind her. She forgot about the train.
A tiny figure was running toward her in the sand, with high pointy ears and a skinny tail. As it got close to her, it slowed down, as if unsure of itself. And then it let out a plaintive, melancholy sound.
“Meay?”
May lost her breath. She blinked madly and tried to get her voice to come out. “Kitty?”
A loud yelp sounded behind her, making May look over her shoulder. The dogs had all come to a dead stop. They were all staring at the figure in the sand.
She looked back ahead. “Kitty?” she whispered again, her eyes filling with tears.
At that moment every dog let out a petrified howl, turned tail, and began to run. But May didn’t see them. She climbed to her feet and ran the last few yards that separated her and her cat, falling onto the sand beside him and swooping him into her arms, then holding him out to look at him, to make sure it was really him.
Somber Kitty’s legs dangled beneath him. “Meay. Meay. Meay.”
May rained kisses all over Somber Kitty’s head, squeezing him so hard that he finally let out a small mew to let her know he was getting smushed. By the time Beatrice, Fabbio, and Pumpkin caught up, she and Kitty were rocking back and forth. The others watched in amazement, flabbergasted.
May leaped to her feet, cradling Somber Kitty tightly in her arms.
When she lowered him to look at him, the Bogeyman was staring her in the face.
May drew Somber Kitty back to her chest with a groan. “Leave him alone.” The Bogey chuckled soft and low. Before May could move in either direction, he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, the suction cups at the edges of his fingers digging into her skin.
“Please, just leave him alone,” May whispered. She felt her skin, where his fingers touched, start to tingle and pull.
The Bogey tilted his head sideways for a moment. He looked her up and down, squinting. “Him? Him who?” he rasped.
At that moment, with a loud meow, Somber Kitty leaped out of May’s arms onto the Bogey’s face, digging cat claws into his cheeks before leaping onto the ground.
And then, with Somber Kitty leading the way, they ran. This time, they ran for the train.
May’s arms and legs pumped as she trailed the others and tried to drag Pumpkin along in step. The train was still picking up speed and had not yet curled the last of its empty train cars past the station.
The Bogeyman, screeching in pain, caught up quickly and zipped up behind them, slower without his sled but still deadly fast. When May looked over her shoulder, the Bogey was inches from Pumpkin, who was bringing up the rear. His hands latched onto Pumpkin’s ragged shirt. At the same moment, May reached into her pocket and hurled her quartz rock at him with all her might. It hit the Bogey between the eyes and sent him reeling backward, just enough to free Pumpkin.
At that moment May saw the great wooden mouse lying on
its side on the rise. And in front of it thousands of spirits, tan, with white sheets draped around their waists and chests, poured out of it and ran toward them. They let out a collective cry. “Raaaaa!”
May’s group let out a cry too. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” They sprinted alongside the train, nearing the open platform of the last car.
Somber Kitty was the first to jump on, which he did with ease. He was followed by Fabbio, who hoisted Beatrice into his arms and with truly astonishing strength, and then brought himself onto the floor of the car. Pumpkin went next, using his long legs to vault forward and grab the others’ hands, which then pulled him on. They all reached out their arms and waved May on. She leaped once and fell.
They waggled their arms frantically. “Hurry!”
May quickly got up and started running again, her legs carrying her faster than she ever knew they could, faster than dead fast. She threw herself forward, and this time several hands grabbed her and pulled her up.
Behind her the Bogeyman had almost caught up. But so had the Egyptians. Desperately trying to reach Somber Kitty, they didn’t stop for the Bogey, and trampled right over him, their cries drowning out his screams of terror as he was flattened beneath their feet.
But it was too late for them to catch their sacred cat. A few of the faster spirits kept up with the train for a few seconds, only a few feet behind the car, and then even they collapsed, holding their bellies and panting.
Somber Kitty gazed at them from his safe spot on the train, flapping his tail tauntingly like a victory flag. And then he retreated into the circle of May’s arms.
Beatrice, Fabbio, Pumpkin, and May were all piled together, ghostly and living limbs overlapping one another. Beatrice reached out and grabbed May’s hand.
“May, that’s a cat.”
“My cat,” May said, beaming.
Beatrice beamed back. “They were outlawed, you know. Shuck dogs are deathly afraid of cats.”
May couldn’t help but shake her head. The crowd in the sand, and indeed the City of Ether, became smaller and smaller in the distance.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The Train Headed North
That night May scratched under Somber Kitty’s chin, his I favorite spot, and watched the stars zoom above as the long black train sped its way across the desert. Already May could feel just the slightest coolness in the air, as if the North had breathed a colder breath onto the sand. The landscape had begun to change—the elevation had gotten higher, and a few tiny, skinny trees had popped up here and there. May had never been so glad to see a few scrawny bushes. They reminded her of home. May hugged Kitty closer to her heart, feeling his warmth.
The others had gone to sleep hours ago, and behind her, Captain Fabbio let out a loud snore. Beatrice had snuggled into the crook of his arm. Even Somber Kitty purred dreamily.
“Hi,” Pumpkin said, crawling up beside her and sitting cross-legged.
“Hi,” May said, feeling a lump rise in her throat at the thought of Pumpkin’s bravery. He had risked his life to save her. And he was here now. On this train.
“So I wonder what it’s like up there,” Pumpkin said, nibbling lightly on a finger.
They both knew the North was unknown and dangerous. They didn’t have to say it.
“I wonder what she wants from you.” Pumpkin pulled his knees in tight.
May shrugged. She had told Bea and Fabbio about the Lady of North Farm. It had just seemed right. She wondered too.
“Do you think she’ll be angry with you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about her, really. But I guess it doesn’t matter. I don’t seem to have a choice.” She breathed in the night air. “The Undertaker said I wouldn’t.”
Pumpkin surveyed May with his droopy eyes. “You look worried.”
May smiled, brushing a small tear from her eye.
“Nah. Not about that. I was thinking of my mom. She doesn’t have me or Kitty now.”
Pumpkin thought for a few moments. “You’ll find your way back. We’ll make sure.”
Actually, May had been thinking of something her mom had said. About how you didn’t make friends, but let them happen. May wanted to repeat this to Pumpkin, who had happened to her most of all, but she was too shy. Instead she said, “I know we will.”
Pumpkin smiled. They looked back at Beatrice and Fabbio. May stroked Somber Kitty, who didn’t look somber at all at the moment. “He is pure goodness, you know.”
They didn’t say any more. And for hours they were content to watch the Ever After go by in the dark.
The text of this book, was Set in Berkeley Old style. The illustrations are rendered in pastels. Editor: Jennifer Weiss Production editor: Jeannie Ng Designer: Debra Sfetsios Production manager: Melisa Idelson
Jodi Lynn Anderson, May Bird and the Ever After
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