Free May Bird and the Ever After by Jodi Lynn Anderson

fingers, her stomach tingling, wondering if it was somehow meant for her.
    May didn’t think she could help anyone. She needed too much help herself. Crossing her arms tightly across her chest, she turned to watch Pumpkin. He was a horrible sight. His mouth zigzagged up either sides of his face. His body—straight as a rake-jutted out at harsh angles. She remembered his terrifying appearances in her room—the sight of him diving at her in the lake, grabbing at her; his arms dragging her here, zapping her . . .
    She waited until Pumpkin was looking in the other direction, then took a few faltering steps forward, out onto the open sand.
    â€œOh, dear.” Pumpkin caught up with her, clutching her arm as he kept his eyes on the cloaked creatures at the water’s edge. May shrank from him, but he held on tight. “You’re going to get yourself destroyed,” he whispered, trembling again. “I’m trying to help you.”
    May looked around as they moved across the sand, wondering who it was that was trying to destroy her.
    After a few agonizing minutes, they were standing next to the boat.
    â€œHurry. Hop in.”
    May hesitated. She could see the water through the transparent bottom of the craft, and it looked like if she tried to step inside, she would fall right through. A cold nudge hit her from behind, and her feet went stumbling in anyway. It sank slightly under her weight.
    She looked down the beach, wondering if she should call for help—most of the figures on the beach looked much more human than Pumpkin did. But she gave up that thought when she saw that one of the skeletal characters in black was gazing in their direction. He walked over to another robed skeleton and leaned toward him, his jaw bones opening and closing. Then they both looked in May’s direction.
    Pumpkin climbed down into the boat beside her and sat down, folding his hands tightly on his lap.
    The boat stayed where it was.
    â€œIt’s your weight in the boat. Get down,” Pumpkin whispered, gazing at the two skeletons down the beach, who had started to move toward them. “Oh, no. Oh, no no no.” He seemed not to notice that, now that they were in the boat, they needed to set it to moving.
    May, huddling tightly, started to feel panicked too. Her gaze shifted from Pumpkin, to the robed creatures, to Pumpkin. “Shouldn’t we push off?” she finally asked.
    Pumpkin’s lips trembled. “Yes, yes, you’re absolutely right.”
    He jumped back out of the boat onto the shore, sneaking another look at the two figures that were now advancing quitequickly down the beach. Then he seemed to gauge the direction in which he wanted to push the boat. “Southern Territories, Southern Territories,” he muttered. Finally he gave the boat a hard diagonal shove and tried to jump in. Instead only half of him made it. The other half splashed into the water, his long legs flailing.
    May stared, not knowing what to do. With one tiny push, she could shove Pumpkin off the boat and escape. But where would she go? Who would she go to? And what if the skeletons caught him?
    Her hands shot out to grab him, her fingers turning to ice as she helped to drag him onto the boat.
    He smiled at her crookedly. “Thanks.”
    May merely gazed at him in reply, then toward the shore, then peered around, unsure as to whether she had made the right choice. “How do we paddle?” she finally asked.
    â€œWe don’t,” he breathed. “We just have to hope I pushed us in the right direction. The greeters are experts. They don’t miss. But one time I did this wrong and ended up at the Pit of Despair Amusement Park, clear on the other side of the realm. It took me a year to get home.”
    Sure enough, the boat kept moving on its own. By the time the cloaked figures reached the part of the beach Pumpkin and May had launched from, they were far out into the water. The two