I gazed at the real tree in the yard. Memories trickled into my mind. You, I thought. It makes me want you. I looked down at my drawing pad and hoped mind reading wasn't one of Daniel's many hidden, demon-hunter talents.
"Remember when we used to race up that tree--see who could go the highest the fastest?" I asked. "And then we'd perch up there, and we could see the whole neighborhood? It felt like if we could just climb a little bit farther into the thin branches, we could stretch up and brush the clouds with our fingers." I rolled the charcoal pencil between my hands. "I guess that's what I want to feel again."
"Then why are we down here?" Daniel grabbed my pencil and tucked my pad under his arm. "Come on."
He pulled me up from the swing and down the porch to the base of the walnut tree. Before I could blink, he'd kicked off his shoes and was halfway up the tree. "You coming?" he goaded from his perch.
"You're crazy," I shouted up to him.
"You're losing!" He jumped from his branch to a higher one above.
"You're cheating!" I grabbed the lowest branch and tried to swing myself up. My stiff legs groaned, I grabbed a different branch and climbed up a few feet. This was a lot less scary than the ravine, but a lot harder than the stone pillar in the Garden of Angels. My injured hand didn't make it any easier.
"Pick up the pace, slowpoke!" Daniel shouted down at me like we were kids all over again. He was higher in the branches than I'd ever climbed.
"Zip it, or you're going to lose an appendage."
My feet scraped against the ashy-white bark as I pushed and pulled myself up through the tree. I was a few feet below Daniel when the branches felt too thin and wavering to support me. I stretched to reach him-- to reach the sky, like I tried when I was kid. I slipped a bit and hugged the closest branch. Daniel swung down to meet me. The tree shuddered when he landed. I hugged my branch tighter. Daniel didn't even blink. He sat in a crook of the tree, his legs swinging in the open air.
"So what do you see now?" he asked.
I willed myself to look down. I gazed out across the neighborhood--a bird's-eye view of the world. Through the branches, I could see the tops of houses, smoke coming out of the Headrickses' chimney. Kids playing street hockey in the cul-de-sac where Jude, Daniel, and I used to run with our light sabers. Where Daniel, after much bossing on my part, taught me how to skateboard. I looked up. Tree branches swayed above me, dancing in the blue, cloud-spotted sky.
"I see everything," I said. "I see--"
"Don't tell me. Show me." He pulled my sketch pad out of his shirt. "Draw what you see." He tried to hand me my things.
"From up here?" I was still hugging my tree branch. How did he expect me to be able to draw without falling? "I can't."
"Stop worrying." He leaned against the trunk. "Come here."
I slowly edged over to him. He helped me sit in front of him and then handed me my things. I leaned my back against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around my waist.
"Draw," he said. "I'll hold you until you're done."
I put the charcoal pencil to the paper. I hesitated for a moment. What was it I wanted to draw? I looked out across the yard in the other direction. From here, most of my
Craftsman-style house was obscured by branches, but it looked like it had when I sat up here as a kid. Not patched and old, but solid, inviting, and safe. My hand started moving, drawing what I saw. Glimpses of my childhood home from my perch in the walnut tree.
"Good," Daniel said as he watched my progress. He stayed mostly silent except to point out something here and there. "See how the sun glints off the wind vane? Draw the dark, not the light itself."
I drew, letting charcoal lines flow right out of me, until my hand felt cramped and tired. I stopped to stretch, and Daniel pulled the sketch pad off my lap. "It's good. Real good." He nuzzled his nose against the top of my head. "You should do this in oils."
"Yeesh." I leaned forward.
Daniel trailed his fingers down my spine. "Still not a fan?"
"I haven't tried oils in years." Not since the day his mother took him away.
"You'll never get into a place like Trenton if you don't get the hang of it."
"I know. Barlow's been after me all year about that."
"It wouldn't be same there without you."
I scooted away from him and dangled my legs along the sides of the branch. Daniel thought about us together at college? It felt weird to think about the future--our future--when so many weird things were happening. What were we doing up here anyway? We'd held hands, brushed skin, talked into the late hours of the night. But what did any of this mean? What could it mean?
"You never did show me that technique with linseed oil and varnish," I said. It was the "trick" he'd promised to teach me just before he'd left with his mom.
Daniel cleared his throat and pulled himself to his feet. "You remember that?"
"I tried to forget," I admitted. "I tried to forget everything about you."
"You hated me that much?"
"No." I grabbed a branch and pulled myself up, my back still to him. "I missed you that much."
Daniel slid his fingers through my hair, sending little chills down my back. "God only knows the things I did to try to numb you out of my brain."
"Me?"
"Grace, I ... You have ..." Daniel rested his hand on my shoulder. He sighed, and I knew he was about to change the subject.
I stepped away from his grasp, annoyed that I wouldn't know what he wanted to say.
Daniel laughed uneasily. "I can still see right into your bedroom from here."
"What?!"
Sure enough, I could see right into my bedroom window. It was afternoon, so the window reflected the sunlight, but if it had been night and the light was on, I'd be able to see just about everything. "You perv!"
"I'm just teasing," he said. "I mean, I used to sit up here and watch your family, but I didn't--"
Just then, something--someone--moved behind my window. I leaned forward, balancing myself with a thin branch, to see who was in my room.
"Careful," Daniel said.
My foot slipped. The branch I held snapped. I shrieked.
Daniel caught me along the waist. He whirled me around so I was now on the thicker portion of the branch, and he stood where I had been. He pulled me tight against his body.
Am I the one shaking so much, or is that him?
Daniel rested his chin on my head and we stood together, precariously perched at such great heights. The only thing holding me, keeping me from falling, was Daniel.
But he didn't try to balance himself in any way--he didn't need to.
"You've got to stop doing that," he said about my near fall. "I don't remember you being such a klutz."
Neither did I--at least not before he came back. "You're the one who is always making me climb on things." I smacked his chest. "Who knew hanging out with you could be so dangerous?"
"You have no idea," he mumbled into my hair.
I looked down at my hand on his hard chest. "You're worth it."
"Gracie," Daniel whispered. He lifted my chin so I was looking up at him. He cupped my face with both hands. His eyes glinted with the sun. He touched his nose to my brow. He tilted his head.
All my fears and worries about monsters, all my concerns about my older brother, all my questions about Daniel melted away as I stretched up on my toes to meet him.