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HG Prologue
Copyright © 2014 by Jennette Green
April 1996
Phoenix, AZ
The universe split open one quiet Sunday afternoon, on a dusty softball field.
Camille and Jess weren’t even supposed to be there. But their father had fallen asleep on the couch, and they’d snuck out.
Jess had wanted to practice hitting the ball, and Camille was only too happy to help her big sister.
While Jess set up the equipment, carefully handling the new glove, bat, and big round softball she’d just received for her tenth birthday, Camille ran around the bases, her frilly white Sunday dress floating and whipping about her knees. She felt if she ran fast enough, she just might fly. Anything seemed possible on this bright blue, cloudless day.
“Don’t get your dress dirty,” Jess shouted, zipping up the new black gym bag Camille had helped Mom buy for Jess. Camille had saved up five whole dollars, and Jess seemed to love it. That made Camille happy. She ran faster. Dust clouds kicked up around her sneakers.
Mom would be glad she’d changed into sneakers. She may not be so glad that Camille had climbed the wire mesh fence beside their house in order to get to the softball field, though.
Jess had tried to stop her. “You’ll snag your new dress.” Her sister had wanted to walk all the way around to the park’s main entrance, but Camille was too impatient. She wanted to grab every precious minute of freedom with both fists and hang on.
Jess was right about the fence, but Camille didn’t care. Her dress had snagged, and now one long thread floated behind her as she ran, like a floating spider web.
“I’m ready,” Jess called out, laying the bat at her feet. She rolled the new white ball to the pitcher’s mound.
Camille giggled, feeling joy wiggle through her skin. If she wasn’t wearing shoes, it just might shoot out of her toes. “One more home run,” she cried, and flew by Jess, who stood at home plate.
“Camille…”
Camille just grinned. She knew Jess would feel happier if she stopped worrying so much.
“Catch me!” she shouted over her shoulder.
Jess crossed her arms.
Camille put Jess and her frowny face from her mind and concentrated on the wind in her teeth and the warm sun on her skin. She rounded first and headed to second. Before she reached second base, however, the air seemed to quiver. The sensation slid through her bones like silent thunder.
She slowed, steps away from second base.
The heat radiating up from the dusty field seemed to shiver and wrinkle like cling wrap. And then, in the space between second and third base, the air rippled and flowed upward.
A small black cloud appeared. It looked like a tiny thunderstorm.
Was that possible, Camille wondered. Could storms form two feet above the ground?
The black cloud’s shivering, soft edges stretched up in the blink of an eye, lengthening to become a tall, vertical strip. Pitch black darkened the middle, but soft, fluffy gray softened the outer edges. It looked as soft as a kitten’s fur.
Camille stopped on second base and stared. The middle strip of the long, tall cloud lightened and cleared, like a sleepy eye opening.
What was that?
It beckoned to her, inviting her to come nearer. To experience the incredible new wonder.
“Camille,” Jess shouted. “What is that? Get over here!”
A cool wind ruffled Camille’s blond curls. It came from the cloud. “It’s a storm! Come see.”
“It’s dangerous!” Jess didn’t move. “Come here. Now!”
Jess was afraid. But Jess was always afraid of new things. Camille wanted to show her it was okay to have fun, and to embrace the new, and fantastic. Most of all, she wanted to show Jess how to be happy. Camille had figured it out. It wasn’t that hard.
She gazed up at the cloud. It reminded her of something she’d read in a book, like Through the Looking Glass, or James and the Giant Peach.
Camille stepped closer, but decided to cut a little toward center field, to approach it from the side. From that angle, the clear, interior slice of the cloud seemed to knit shut, until it looked all black.
The wind buffeted her hair. The cloud pulled at Camille’s soul, urging her forward. The feeling reminded her of the magnets she’d learned about in school. One felt like it lived inside her, and one tugged at her from inside the cloud. It felt like she was meant to go to it. Like it was time.
“Camille!” Jess screamed. Her sister’s frantic sneakers scuffed the earth. Pebbles flew.
Camille stopped at the cloud’s outside edge. She lifted her arm. Cool softness ruffled around her fingers.
For the first time, she felt a little afraid. But who wouldn’t be, this close to a giant cloud, two times her daddy’s height? She couldn’t stop now. Or could she?
Should she?
“Stop!”
Camille took a deep breath. She wanted to see what was inside the cloud. Mom had told her the eye of a hurricane was calm and quiet. That didn’t make much sense to Camille, but maybe the eye of this storm was the same. Maybe it was quiet and still. Maybe it held answers to all the secrets of the universe.
She glanced at her sister. Jess had just passed the pitcher’s mound, her eyes wide with horror. “Camille, no!”
Camille ignored her, and bravely took one giant step to the side, so she could see directly into the slitted eye of the storm again. She looked deep, and then deeper. It wasn’t empty. Silver glinted. What was that?
“Camille!” came Jess’s frantic scream.
“Camille,” whispered the cloud.
Swallowing her sudden, fearful doubt, Camille stepped forward. The cloud swirled around her, whipping her hair. And then, like a door slamming shut, a force gripped her body and sucked her inside.
“Camille!” Jess’s faint, terrified scream lingered, like a shot of sanity.
Something sharp pricked into her skin. Each of Camille’s senses faded, going numb, and then black. Why did her thoughts felt like clumsy blocks of play dough? Was she dying?
If so, where was heaven?
Where was God?
He had promised he would never leave her alone.
Terror billowed inside her, for this was not heaven.
It was not heaven at all.
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