Excerpt: The Magic of Two

Just as they’re nearing the woods on the far side of the meadow, they both sense movement in the grass.

"It’s a fox, Candace," Sukey says out of the corner of her mouth. "Like in our dream.” Instead of darting off like a normal fox, it stares at them.

They stand, a frozen triad.

Their shared dream is still vivid. Candace decides to talk to the fox. But how to address such a creature? She’s often talked to her dog, of course, and sometimes to the chickens, though only in annoyance, but she has never spoken to a wild animal. Formality seems appropriate. "Kind Fox," she says with a slight Japanese-style bow, "we are in need of help."

It’s difficult to see anything now but they can make out its silhouette with the lighter grasses behind it. The fox looks up. What do I expect? Candace thinks. That it will speak to me? Of course, it does not.

Instead, it does so much more. With the girls standing transfixed, it grows and changes and transforms within seconds into a woman wearing a long Japanese robe with flowing sleeves.

Sukey steps closer to Candace, taking her hand and squeezing it so hard Candace would have squealed if she’d had any breath.

The woman seems as neutral as the fox had been. Not threatening, but not warm either.

Sukey whispers, "I know what’s happening. We’ve fallen asleep again. Only this time, we’re in the dream together."

"Right...” Candace says, finally releasing her breath.

The fox-woman in the orange kimono makes her first noise, a mewing laugh. "You are not yet asleep, though I will see you there as well. Follow me, ladies." She turns and begins to walk away.

Candace looks down at Sukey, still clinging to her hand.

She meets Candace’s gaze and shrugs.

They follow, tentatively at first, and then more quickly. The fox-woman walks rapidly for someone in a such an elaborate costume.

If it’s a dream, I should be able to wake myself up, Sukey thinks. Then she realizes that she doesn’t want to. She’s scared but it’s so much more than that. Her feet tingle each time she plants a footstep. The damp, sweet smell of the grasses has given way to that of moss and earth now that they’ve entered the trees. The deafening buzz of cicadas fades with each step into the inky woods. She thinks of her birthday and how glad she is to be here instead of cooking the evening meal for her dad and brothers. Scared is a small, and manageable, fraction of what she’s feeling.

It seems a long walk—at least an hour. But it’s very hard to keep track of time in the dark, in what might be a dream. Sukey’s feet lose their tingle and begin to hurt.

The fox-woman stops. Candace is staring. Sukey follows her gaze. Before them is the road and on the other side, their homes. As the girls pass beyond the woman —Sukey smells lilies and musk— she can see the Rousseau house to their left and hers to the right. Somehow, their journey has taken them home – not from behind where the woods are – but from the opposite side of the road.

Candace has always loved the word "crestfallen" in storybooks, but she never expected to feel it. And yet, that is exactly how she feels when the fox-woman brings them out of the woods onto the cracked concrete of their road. After the events of the day she certainly isn’t ready for bright lights and hard-edges, for facing her drunken father and whatever punishment her mother will dish out.

Then Candace realizes one more amazing thing. "Sukey!" she whispers. "Look! The sun’s only now setting. We...somehow we’ve gone back in time. She brought us back early."

"So we won’t get in trouble?” Sukey asks, looking back over her shoulder. "Hey, where is she?"

Their fox-woman has disappeared.

Candace isn’t at all surprised. Looking at the straight road and the stark houses casting long shadows, she can only think, There is no place for magic here.