Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson

backward to get a running start.
    â€œHold tight.”
    â€œGood gosh, Jess.”
    He shut his mouth. He wanted to shut his eyes, too. But he forced himself to watch her run back, race for the bank, leap, swing, and jump off, landing gracefully on her feet on the far side.
    â€œCatch!”
    He stuck his hand out, but he was watching Leslie and P.T. and not concentrating on the rope, which slipped off the end of his fingertips and swung in a large arc out of his reach. He jumped and grabbed it, and shutting his mind to the sound and sight of the water, he ran back and then speeded forward. The cold stream lapped his bare heels momentarily, but then he was into the air above it and falling awkwardly and landing on his bottom. P.T. was on him immediately, muddy paws all over the beige raincoat, and pink tongue sandpapering Jess’s wet face.
    Leslie’s eyes were sparkling. “Arise”—she barelyswallowed a giggle—“arise, king of Terabithia, and let us proceed into our kingdom.”
    The king of Terabithia snuffled and wiped his face on the back of his hand. “I will arise,” he replied with dignity, “when thou removes this fool dog off my gut.”
    They went to Terabithia on Tuesday and again on Wednesday. The rain continued sporadically, so that by Wednesday the creek had swollen to the trunk of the crab apple and they were running through ankle-deep water to make their flight into Terabithia. And on the opposite bank Jess was more careful to land on his feet. Sitting in cold wet britches for an hour was no fun even in a magic kingdom.
    For Jess the fear of the crossing rose with the height of the creek. Leslie never seemed to hesitate, so Jess could not hang back. But even though he could force his body to follow after, his mind hung back, wanting to cling to the crab apple tree the way Joyce Ann might cling to Momma’s skirt.
    While they were sitting in the castle on Wednesday, it began suddenly to rain so hard that water came through the top of the shack in icystreams. Jess tried to huddle away from the worst of them, but there was no escaping the miserable invaders.
    â€œDost know what is in my mind, O king?” Leslie dumped the contents of one coffee can on the ground and put the can under the worst leak.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œMethinks some evil being has put a curse on our beloved kingdom.”
    â€œDamn weather bureau.” In the dim light he could see Leslie’s face freeze into its most queenly pose—the kind of expression she usually reserved for vanquished enemies. She didn’t want to kid. He instantly repented his unkingly manner.
    Leslie chose to ignore it. “Let us go even up into the sacred grove and inquire of the Spirits what this evil might be and how we must combat it. For of a truth I perceive that this is no ordinary rain that is falling upon our kingdom.”
    â€œRight, queen,” Jess mumbled and crawled out of the low entrance of the castle stronghold.
    Under the pines even the rain lost its driving power. Without the filtered light of the sun it wasalmost dark, and the sound of the rain hitting the pine branches high above their heads filled the grove with a weird, tuneless music. Dread lay on Jess’s stomach like a hunk of cold, undigested doughnut.
    Leslie lifted her arms and face up toward the dark green canopy. “O Spirits of the grove,” she began solemnly. “We are come on behalf of our beloved kingdom which lies even now under the spell of some evil, unknown force. Give us, we beseech thee, wisdom to discern this evil, and power to overcome it.” She nudged Jess with her elbow.
    He raised his arms. “Um. Uh.” He felt the point of her sharp elbow again. “Um. Yes. Please listen, thou Spirits.”
    She seemed satisfied. At least she didn’t poke him again. She just stood there quietly as if she was listening respectfully to someone talking to her. Jess was shivering,