Forlot - Books 1-3 {Completed}

Chapter Twelve

"Margie!"

She did not stop. She kept jogging down the sidewalk, trying to keep up with the bus. The heels of her shoes made clonking sounds as they hit the pavement. Her braids bobbled.

"What the heck is she doing?" Hansel demanded. "She should know that a bus is faster than a person jogging."

"She is not jogging," I snapped. "Margie is running as fast as she can. She has something for us. Something that she found."

"Well, just tell her to put it in my or your room. Yell out our apartment number."

I glared at him, and then back at Margie. "Nope." I turned to the bus driver. "Paul! Stop the bus! Please!"

It was useless. Paul could not hear me. The engine of the bus was too loud for him to overhear.

Now what?

I poked my head out of the window and glanced down. The road was pretty blurry. The bus was moving at a certain speed. I heard the clonking noises coming closer and realized that Margie was by the bus now. By my window.

"Margie!" I shouted.

"You know, shouting her name over and over will not do any good," Hansel reminded me.

I shushed him and stretched my arm through the open window. I held out my hand. "Hurry! Take my hand!"

"What?!" Margie said in between breaths.

"Take my hand!"

"How?! Your hand is attached to the rest of you!"

Ha. Good one.

I giggled softly. I could not hold it in. The line that she said was too darn funny. But it was no time to laugh and play around.

"Nice joke, but you still need to get ahold of me," I ordered. "My palm. My wrist. My arm. Heck, one of my fingers!"

"And...what will happen once I do that?" Margie said.

"I will pull you up and help you through the window. You will be inside the bus."

Her mouth immediately dropped open, like she thought that I was insane.

"You have to be kidding, Gretel!" my brother protested the idea. "There is no way that she can get inside!"

"My body is too big!" Margie spoke up. "The window is too small for me!"

"Need I remind you that the bus is moving!" Hansel snapped.

My head started hurting. My own body quivered.

What if they were right? What if my plan did not succeed? What if I was thinking ahead, but not planning ahead?

Then a voice broke through my thoughts.

"I believe that Gretel is correct. Trust her."

I glanced up and saw Jack by the window. He had a leg resting on the seat. He was standing with his other leg.

"Jack?" I said his name.

He smiled.

At me.

"I am sure that your friend will be able to fit," he commented. "Let her in with ease."

I blew away a strand of my hair. "But...the window..."

"She will be able to get inside with no problem." Jack lifted my chin, so I would look at him. "I have faith in you, Gretel. And just so that you are not worried..." In a jiff, he jumped, forcing the upper half of his body into the opening, grasped Margie's wrist, and pulled her up.

"Woah!" Margie and I said in unison. We were both impressed by his quick reflexes.

"Gretel, grab her other wrist," Jack ordered me.

I did what I was told, and Jack gripped her elbow. I copied him and placed a hand under Margie's elbow. We pulled her to the window, and Hansel and Jill joined in. Together, we managed to pull Margie into the bus.

Margie landed on the seat. With a moan, she sat up straight and rubbed her elbows.

"Did we hurt you?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No. But let me tell ya. What we all just did was the most interesting event to have ever happened in my life. I have never gotten on transportation that way."

I sat next to her. "So what did you find? What did you want to show us?"

She raised her hand, uncoiling her fingers, and there was a yellow stone in her palm.

The stone was small, but big enough for me to see. Light from the moon casted down on us, and the stone glistened in the night. It acted like yellow light from a flashlight.

"It sure is shiny," Hansel commented. "Where did you find it?"

"I...I tripped over a coat rack," Margie explained. "I kept myself from falling, but the coat rack and a coat, a brown jacket, that was hanging on it fell. Then this stone fell out of the pocket. Out of the jacket."

I gasped. "Out of the...brown jacket?" I said.

She nodded.

I was concerned. The jacket belonged to my dad. He is the only person who wears a brown jacket.

Why did he have the stone?

I was pondering the question...

...when Jack kissed me.

On the lips.