Free The Gifting by Katie Ganshert Page A

look up at the towering redwoods that climb into the gray sky overhead and use my stick to poke at a few nearby bushes. “I don’t see any Yeti babies in here.”
    “You joke, but I’m not kidding. There have been bona fide reports.” As if to prove her braveness, she takes a few steps ahead of me. “So what do you think?”
    “About Bigfoot?”
    “No, the party.”
    The idea is not appealing. Parties are about as high up on my list of favorite things to do as football games. But I’ve learned that when it comes to Leela, the stronger I object to something, the more determined she becomes to convince me otherwise. It’s best if I don’t say anything.
    “Maybe Pete can come.”
    “Yeah. Maybe.”
    Twigs snap beneath our feet. I let Leela walk a couple bumbling steps ahead of me when a loud hiss stops me cold. Not more than ten paces up the path, there is a snake—a large, coiled, red-eyed snake. “Leela, stop!”
    She freezes.
    The snake slithers closer and stops right in front of my friend. I stumble backward, my heart lurching.
    “What? Tess, you’re freaking me out.”
    With paralyzed vocal chords, all I can do is point. She whips around, following the direction of my finger, but she doesn’t move. Why doesn’t she move? Has fear frozen her too? Is she going to stand there while the snake sinks its fangs into her? What if it’s poisonous? The thing is huge.
    Leela’s shoulders relax and she turns back around with a smirk. “Ha, ha. Very funny. You saw Bigfoot.”
    “Snake,” I manage to rasp.
    “Oh my gosh! Where?” Leela’s voice is shrill as she jumps over to me and clutches at the shoulder of my sweatshirt. “This is exactly why I don’t like coming outside. Where is it?”
    “Right in front of us!”
    Leela jerks around, looking to the right, the left, behind her, and then straight ahead, at the hissing, fanged serpent poised to strike. “Okay, you’re freaking me out. I don’t see anything.”
    How can she not see it? It’s right in front of us, slowly slithering forward with those blood-red eyes. My heart beats against my eardrums. The snake rears back and I do the only thing I am capable of doing. I grip the stick in my hand and swing at the serpent with every ounce of strength inside of me.
    “Tess!” Leela grabs my arm.
    I wheel around. “Run!”
    She stares at me with eyes rounder than I’ve ever seen. My attention flies back to the path, toward the snake I just whacked. Only nothing is there but another stick—slightly larger than the one I wield in my hand.
    A stick.
    I search the forest floor, unable to believe the snake is really gone. “Where is it?”
    “Where is what ?”
    I do a full three-sixty. No way did a simple swing of my stick make that snake dart away. But when I come full circle, there’s nothing. It can’t be possible. Seconds earlier, a large frightening snake had been ready to sink its teeth into me and my friend. But all that’s there now …
    Leela lets go of my sleeve. “Jeez, Tess, you never told me you were such a good actor.”
    “I wasn’t acting. I …” I blink several times, dumbfounded. “You really didn’t see it?”
    She shakes her head slowly.
    Dread fills the empty space my fear left behind. And for the first time in several weeks, the word psychosis flashes in my mind. Seeing things other people don’t see. Is that what just happened? Before Leela’s concern turns into suspicion, I let out an uneasy laugh. “I thought that stick was a snake.”
    “Wow. You must really be afraid of them.” Leela looks at the inanimate stick on the ground. It doesn’t resemble a snake at all.
    I’m suddenly very tired. Very cold.
    “So why in the world do you like being outside so much?”
    “I don’t know.” I drop the walking stick and shove my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie. “Do you mind if we go home?”
    “You don’t have to ask me twice.”
    We head back to the house, quiet at first, but then Leela starts talking