They reached the tree.
They did not speak. They just worked in silence, occasionally grunting a word to coordinate tying the rope off to hoist the windows up. Or get the right screwdriver. Or seal the windows with weather stripping.
The boys used their muscle to move the planks of the roof into place. Their hammers pushed the nails through the wood like a knife through warm butter. The wind whipped around, turning their cheeks red and wet with cold. Special Ed and Mike finished the roof within two hours while Matt and Christopher put black shutters on the windows. When the roof was laid down, all four boys climbed on top of the tree house and began nailing down the shingles. One by one. As fast as they could. Tap tap tap like four manual typewriters.
Until they were done.
When he reached the last shingle of the roof, Christopher stopped. There was one more nail to drive home. He asked the guys who would like to finish it.
“You do the honors,” Mike said.
“Chris! Chris! Chris!” his friends cheered.
Christopher grabbed the hammer and struck the last nail. They all carefully climbed down off the roof to the ground. The four boys stood, looking up at their creation with silent reverence. A perfect little tree house with shutters and windows and a real door with a lock. The floor with the secret door and a rope ladder for emergencies. It was beautiful. Exactly as Christopher pictured it in his mind. It was better than his graph paper drawings. Better than any house he ever planned except for the ones for his mom.
The tree house was done.
“Who wants to climb first?” Matt asked.
There was no debate.
Christopher climbed.
His friends followed.
The boys moved up the 2x4 stairs like baby teeth. They reached the little porch. Christopher opened the door like a doorman and let his friends walk in first. One by one. Special Ed, then Mike, then Matt. The three boys huddled in the tree house and started talking about how they were going to bring out furniture and iPads to watch movies. Maybe even a little propane stove to make Jiffy Pop.
As his friends made their excited plans, Christopher looked back at the clearing. He saw deer poking their heads through the bushes. Grazing on the last patches of green before the winter threatened to starve them. He listened. There was no sound. No wind. Just a steady pouring of snow from the clouds in the sky. Christopher saw that the cloud face was back. Smiling and drifting as it dropped snow on him like cotton candy. The snow was so thick, it covered all their footprints.
As if they were never there.
“Come on, Chris. Close the door. It’s freezing,” Special Ed said.
Christopher turned back to his friends. But not before staring at the white plastic bag, which had been silent all day. He looked at it, hanging on the low branch. Waiting patiently. Then, he stepped his foot over the doorframe and entered the tree house. Christopher knew the minute he closed that door, he would have his proof. Either he was crazy, or there was something on the other side. Either there was no nice man, or he was about to meet him in person.
“But what does the tree house do?” he had asked the nice man once.
you’d never believe me. you’ll have to see it for yourself.
Christopher closed the door.
*
After a moment, a small bird landed on the doorknob. It looked around at the deer slowly crawling in a circle toward the tree house. Each step in unison. The bird did not like things it was not used to seeing, so it flew away. It flew up through the snowflakes and freezing air. It flew up past the tops of the trees and kept going higher and higher until it had reached the bottom of the clouds that looked like faces.
Then, it turned.
The bird looked back down at the earth. It saw the woods, the snowy white clearing with the deer, and the little tree with the tree house. And if it had words to describe what it saw, it would have sworn that it looked like a stark white iris with brown flecks and the black pupil of…
A giant eye.
Part IV
Seeing Is Believing
Chapter 34
hi. how are you? are you okay? don’t worry. just breathe. you’ll adjust. just remember a couple of things. are you listening? calm down. i know you can’t see. you’re not blind. you’re passing to the imaginary side.
your friends are not with you. they still think you’re with them on the real side. but you are not alone. i am waiting for you. i will never let you come in here alone. i am your friend forever.
oh, god. you’ve passed through. get ready. you can do this, christopher. I know you can do this. there. that’s the doorknob. you’re about to see. please remember something. i will do everything i can to protect you. but if you die in here, you die on the real side. so, whatever happens, don’t ever come in here if i am not there to meet you. never come in at night. and if we ever get separated, don’t leave the street.
she can’t get you if you don’t leave the street.
Chapter 35
Christopher opened his eyes.
At first glance, everything looked the same. He was standing in the tree house. He was still in the clearing. The snow was on the ground. For a moment, he thought he was just a crazy kid in a tree house listening to a figment of his imagination.
Except for that smell.
When he went into the tree house, the air was winter cold. The kind of freezing that made his nostrils stick together. But when he opened his eyes, the air smelled sweet. Like cotton candy.
“Hey, guys, do you smell that?” he asked.
No response.
“Guys?” he repeated.
He turned and almost screamed. Because sitting there, right next to Special Ed, Mike, and Matt, was his own body. Christopher watched the four boys sitting cross-legged, rubbing their hands together for warmth. He called out to them, but they could not hear him. He waved his hand in front of their eyes, but they didn’t even blink. They were busy making plans about what furniture they could bring to the tree house. Their voices sounded far away. Like how his mother’s voice echoed when he put his ears under bathwater. Christopher strained to hear them. Until…
knocK. knocK. knocK.
Christopher turned toward the door. The sound vibrated through his teeth like chalk on a blackboard. Christopher looked back to his friends. They couldn’t hear the knocking. They just kept talking about how they were going to get power in the tree house for their toys and gadgets. Maybe batteries? Can refrigerators run on batteries?
knocK. knocK. knocK.
He inched toward the door. He put his ear up against it. At first, there was silence. Then, he heard a voice as clear as his friends were muddy.
christopher. psst. out here.
Christopher’s heart pounded. He went to the window. He strained his neck to see, but he could see nothing.
knocK. knocK. knocK.
Christopher stood on his tiptoes, trying to see the person, but he just heard the voice through the door.
christopher. it’s okay. it’s me. open the door.
Christopher took a hard swallow and inched toward the door. He didn’t want to open it, but he had to know if there really was a person standing there. Or if it was just another figment of his imagination. Was he outside of his own body? Or was he out of his mind?
Christopher opened the door.