heavy, creaking door open. When I stepped forward, it slammed shut behind me.
My jaw dropped.
12
Through the Witch’s Door
“Bloody hell.”
I didn’t know what I was looking at. It wasn’t Esmeralda’s backyard. The fig tree was gone. There were trees, but they had no leaves. They were brown and barren like after a bush-fire. But it wasn’t hot. The summer had vanished.
White was everywhere. On the ground, clinging to the branches of the trees. I looked down at my feet. I was standing in white, and it was cold. The air was cold too. When I breathed, it hurt, and my nose started throbbing again.
Esmeralda’s back verandah was gone. I was at the top of a few white steps, looking across at a row of buildings that shouldn’t have been there.
It wasn’t her backyard. It wasn’t even daytime. The light was wrong. The sky was orangey-grey and I couldn’t see the sun. Was it night? Then why were there no stars? No moon? Was it an eclipse? Had the sky been sucked away? Had the world ended as I stepped from kitchen to verandah?
The world had definitely been turned upside down. Nothing I could see or feel made any sense. Daytime and summer, both had vanished.
The buildings opposite looked like something out of an Escher drawing. There was a rickety iron staircase attached to the outside of each one. I wondered if there were stairs inside too. Or maybe they were on the outside because someone forgot about them? But they weren’t even done right. The staircases started too high, even to jump up. Maybe this was a land of kangaroo people.
In front of the buildings were large white blobs. What on earth were they?
Soft wet drops hit my face and landed in my still-open mouth. Like rain, only softer. The air was full of white drops, like feathers or petals, floating through the air.
I walked down the steps, watching the gorgeous white dust dancing all around me. I caught some on my tongue and felt it dissolve. I shivered. It tasted like cold, wet air. I loved it.
“Snow,” I said out loud, proud of myself for figuring it out. “It’s snow.”
I’d never seen that much snow before. In fact, outside of picture books, I’d never seen any snow before. Growing up, I’d met littlies who’d never seen rain. I tried to imagine what they’d think of this. They’d wet themselves!
I laughed and spun round and round with my arms stretched, feeling the snow against my bare arms and legs. It tickled. The brown, green, red houses, the railings, the strange staircases, a moustached face in stone, all flashed by, obscured by the falling snowflakes. I came to a stop, panting.
The big white blobs were cars, I was sure. But they were covered in snow. I was looking at a street. A strange street, certainly, with such tall houses all crowded together, but definitely a street.
The snow, the cold, it was exhilarating. I couldn’t help it—I had to run. I sprinted along the footpath, feeling the snow, deliciously cool and soft, splatter against my face, the crunchy dampness of it underneath my bare feet. It felt absolutely fabulous. No wonder people in books liked winter. If this was winter, I liked it too.
I turned to run back.
That was when I realised I didn’t know where “back” was. Stretched out behind me was a row of houses, just like those on the other side of the street. They all looked the same with their iron railings and stone steps. I hadn’t thought to notice which house I’d come out of.
So stupid.
I could hear Sarafina’s voice in my head: Always be alert, aware of your surroundings. What had I seen? Red and brown houses. That was almost all of them. A moustached face in stone.
At that exact moment I realised I was shivering. I couldn’t feel my nose anymore. My T-shirt and shorts were soaked. I had no shoes. Snow was cold. I was cold. Very cold.
The snow started coming down even harder.
13
Rescue
This was Jay-Tee’s third night waiting. Each colder than the one before. She hadn’t even rescued
My jaw dropped.
12
Through the Witch’s Door
“Bloody hell.”
I didn’t know what I was looking at. It wasn’t Esmeralda’s backyard. The fig tree was gone. There were trees, but they had no leaves. They were brown and barren like after a bush-fire. But it wasn’t hot. The summer had vanished.
White was everywhere. On the ground, clinging to the branches of the trees. I looked down at my feet. I was standing in white, and it was cold. The air was cold too. When I breathed, it hurt, and my nose started throbbing again.
Esmeralda’s back verandah was gone. I was at the top of a few white steps, looking across at a row of buildings that shouldn’t have been there.
It wasn’t her backyard. It wasn’t even daytime. The light was wrong. The sky was orangey-grey and I couldn’t see the sun. Was it night? Then why were there no stars? No moon? Was it an eclipse? Had the sky been sucked away? Had the world ended as I stepped from kitchen to verandah?
The world had definitely been turned upside down. Nothing I could see or feel made any sense. Daytime and summer, both had vanished.
The buildings opposite looked like something out of an Escher drawing. There was a rickety iron staircase attached to the outside of each one. I wondered if there were stairs inside too. Or maybe they were on the outside because someone forgot about them? But they weren’t even done right. The staircases started too high, even to jump up. Maybe this was a land of kangaroo people.
In front of the buildings were large white blobs. What on earth were they?
Soft wet drops hit my face and landed in my still-open mouth. Like rain, only softer. The air was full of white drops, like feathers or petals, floating through the air.
I walked down the steps, watching the gorgeous white dust dancing all around me. I caught some on my tongue and felt it dissolve. I shivered. It tasted like cold, wet air. I loved it.
“Snow,” I said out loud, proud of myself for figuring it out. “It’s snow.”
I’d never seen that much snow before. In fact, outside of picture books, I’d never seen any snow before. Growing up, I’d met littlies who’d never seen rain. I tried to imagine what they’d think of this. They’d wet themselves!
I laughed and spun round and round with my arms stretched, feeling the snow against my bare arms and legs. It tickled. The brown, green, red houses, the railings, the strange staircases, a moustached face in stone, all flashed by, obscured by the falling snowflakes. I came to a stop, panting.
The big white blobs were cars, I was sure. But they were covered in snow. I was looking at a street. A strange street, certainly, with such tall houses all crowded together, but definitely a street.
The snow, the cold, it was exhilarating. I couldn’t help it—I had to run. I sprinted along the footpath, feeling the snow, deliciously cool and soft, splatter against my face, the crunchy dampness of it underneath my bare feet. It felt absolutely fabulous. No wonder people in books liked winter. If this was winter, I liked it too.
I turned to run back.
That was when I realised I didn’t know where “back” was. Stretched out behind me was a row of houses, just like those on the other side of the street. They all looked the same with their iron railings and stone steps. I hadn’t thought to notice which house I’d come out of.
So stupid.
I could hear Sarafina’s voice in my head: Always be alert, aware of your surroundings. What had I seen? Red and brown houses. That was almost all of them. A moustached face in stone.
At that exact moment I realised I was shivering. I couldn’t feel my nose anymore. My T-shirt and shorts were soaked. I had no shoes. Snow was cold. I was cold. Very cold.
The snow started coming down even harder.
13
Rescue
This was Jay-Tee’s third night waiting. Each colder than the one before. She hadn’t even rescued
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