Between Earth and Sky | ✓

Part 4: The Transformation

Mom pulls her lips into a thin line and swallows before taking my hand into both of hers. I know this move, and my heartbeat accelerates. This is what she did when she told me her and dad were getting a divorce or when my dog Bucky had to be put down.

"Your brothers, Mira," she whispers. "Monk says they were all at the rig, but there's no sign of them."

That's a good thing, right? I want to ask. If there are no bodies, then there's a chance they're alive. Maybe Monk is wrong. He naps on duty more than he's awake, and that's not the only reason Johnny got promoted to foreman before the more experienced roughneck.

Mom's teary eyes show she doesn't share in my optimism. I want to comfort her, but I suddenly remember the dark shapes I saw among the flames and begin bawling. In the end, it's mom who has to calm me down. She explains we'll know more once the well is capped and for now, she's just thankful for me being okay.

Getting the all clear from Owen, I'm allowed to go home where Poppy is already waiting. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see that crazy girl; not even our reunion after she was away for two weeks last summer visiting relatives in California felt this rewarding.

Poppy and mom help me inside – too much smoke and not enough oxygen can apparently make you really weak and tired for a while – and I camp out on the living room. My friend plops into the adjacent armchair before mom leaves to take care of mayor stuff. With the steady droll of some reality TV show peppered with Poppy's occasional commentary in the background, I quickly fall asleep.

My brain, though, refuses to rest and instead decides that I really need to relive every terrible moment from earlier. I awake with a start, my clothes sticking to me from sweat. Poppy is curled up in the chair and out like a light, so I tiptoe around her and head to the bathroom.

Son of a biscuit! I almost faint when I see my reflection in the mirror. Why hasn't anyone mentioned I look like a rabid raccoon that's been dragged three miles behind a semi? After washing the soot off my face, I do the best I can with my hair by braiding it into a long rope. I really need a shower, too, but I guess that can wait. Standing in the tiny bathroom, I'm suddenly feeling very locked in, so I go back through the living room and slip quietly out the front door.

Our porch faces the main road that cuts through Otter Falls, and sitting on the top step would let me get a clear view of the traffic, if there were any. We're so out of the way the only cars that pass by are those of our nearest neighbors – a quarter of a mile in each direction – going between work and home, or an occasional State Trooper making his rounds. I briefly close my eyes to let the breeze wash over me when a familiar clunking sound catches my ear. I look up again just in time to see River in his old beater rounding the nearest bend before pulling to a stop right in front of me.

If it weren't his car, I would have a hard time recognizing the boy because his usual smile is gone. Instead, he looks just as solemn as I feel. He slams the car door behind him and runs up, taking a seat right next to me.

"I heard what happened," he begins, assuming I was wondering why he showed up unannounced. "Are you okay?"

I shrug and point to my throat, but he must have known about that, too.

"Yeah, that's a bummer." He cracks a smile before unexpectedly putting an arm around me. "I'm sorry about your brothers."

I shake off his hold and widen my eyes. What about them? I mime, and his face turns red.

"Oh, no. They haven't found them yet or anything, I just meant . . . well, I hope they'll be okay, too." He looks away, and while I still don't want to admit the possibility, I know eventually we'll find out either way. River is just trying to make me feel better, and I put my hand on his knee to show him I understand.

He turns back to me and gives me a hug, which apparently is my kryptonite. As soon as the boy holds me close, I completely fall apart and begin crying again. Noticing my blubbering, he pulls away, but instead of hightailing it home like I expect, he cups my face with one hand and wipes a tear from my cheek with his thumb. I smile, thankful to have such a great friend when he leans in and actually kisses me!

Holy guacamole, it's nice. His lips are warm and his skin smells like peppermint, and I don't even mind the silver ring tickling my mouth. Reaching up for his shirt, I scoot closer before a slamming door interrupts the moment.

We look up as Poppy storms out of my house from behind, and I don't have to feel like a fox caught in the hen house to know she saw everything. I've betrayed her, and it makes me want to throw up. To make amends, I try to grab her arm, but she shakes it off and rushes past me. As she jumps into River's truck, I remember he's here too. He gives me an apologetic shrug, and I suppose he has no choice but to give her a ride home, but seeing them drive away together hurts almost as much as losing my best friend's trust.

I want to scream in frustration, but I don't even have that luxury right now. I also can't will myself to go back in the house, not when mom's still away and my brothers are still unaccounted for. My quad bike isn't in its usual spot, which means it must still be at rig forty-nine. At this point, I don't even care where I go or how I get there, so I just start running. The rhythmic pounding of my sneakers against the soft grass and wildflowers in the meadow behind our house is oddly relaxing, and I let it slowly calm my nerves. By the time I cross a patch of pines and stop at the edge of a wide stream, my breathing is ragged, but my head is clear.

It doesn't take me long to realize where I am. After heading fifty yards up along the water's bank, I'm standing right at the spot where I gave Lulu an unexpected bath last night. The memory makes me smile, and I begin to relax. Sitting on one of the flat rocks, I pull my legs up and rest my head in my hands.

Has it been only a day since the wedding? What I wouldn't do to turn back time and have all the terrible things that have happened since then go away.

I sigh, knowing the impossibility of my wish. As if Mother Earth  knew I needed a distraction right about now, a lone egret appears on the horizon. I wonder if she's the same bird we saw last night when another also comes into view. They're flying straight for the Falls so I sit as still as I can to avoid scaring them away. I actually bite my lip when I realize there are even more than I first thought, eventually counting six, large egrets.

Unlike the bird from yesterday, it would be hard to call these animals majestic. Their feathers are more gray than white, covered in soot no doubt from the still burning rig fire. The smallest one also appears to have a broken wing, and I'm seriously considering quietly backing away to get it some help when I finally go crazy.

It sounds harsh, but there's no other way to explain it. Plain and simple, I – Mira Sighansen – have just lost my sanity. Why? Because the six long necked, feathered birds that landed in the hip-deep stream twenty feet from me just turned into humans. And what's even crazier? They're not just any humans. They're my six missing brothers, who apparently are still alive.