Science Fiction for Young Readers, grade 4 up
Story by Terry Gibson ©

     While family and friends, indeed the 
whole country feared for Tabitha's return,
a small group was more concerned for her 
life. The two might of course be the same 
by different routes.
     It would not be until they had 
examined Mrs. Mallow's videotape, the 
image enhanced and enlarged making it more 
clear, that officials called in medical 
persons who expressed grave concern for 
Tabitha's survival.  There was blood on 
most of Tab's face and what appeared to be
deformation of her skull.  They notified 
the hospital and the police, but chose not 
to tell Mrs.Gray at that time.  She would 
find out soon enough.  Assuming of course 
that they ever found Tabitha at all.

                        
     Helicopters had nothing to report: 
"We are going up again as soon as visibility 
improves." They had searched a 60 km area 
around them through the day and until light 
had totally failed, but had seen nothing.  
Interviewed on TV, one pilot said, "It is 
a big sky out there."
     "And," added the other, "she is a 
small girl."  Hardened as they were to 
difficult rescues, this one was very hard 
to take.

                         
     Reporters had been assigned 
backgrounders to find unusual stories.  
Since there would be several days of 
reporting they felt it would maintain 
interest.  Meg Warren had returned, much
to her aunt's delight.  They spent the 
first evening looking at all the angles.  
That is how she and Mrs. Mallow selected 
their first story.
     Interviewing Mrs. Gunner, they saw a 
woman beset by doubts, but one who remained 
firm in her condemnation of men and of men 
teachers in particular.  Even with her 
attitude tempered by caution, she would 
serve as a foil for the changing views of 
others.

                         
     It was Tabitha's example of 
selflessness that had become a beacon for 
others.  That fact was not missed by the 
local university which saw there a social 
experiment in the making and welcomed all
the help in documentation.
     Meg Warren's series of stories, each 
written with such sympathy, formed the 
backbone of their collection.  Meg was a 
university graduate whose doctoral studies 
had been delayed only by economic need.  
Her master's degree in social psychology
was the firm base from which she wrote.

                         
     JP realized too late that the force 
capable of lifting and holding up two 
hundred pounds would flip Tabitha upward 
with greater strength than she could control.  
His guilt tormented him.  He was the adult; 
he was the one who was responsible.  Why 
hadn't he insisted that she tell why she
needed the flour?  And now, where was she?
It was like losing his own child.  His life--
     Those who watched him, understood.

                         
     Ms. Tempest described what she had 
seen that noon as he had carried her in, 
and how Tab had hung on.  Weakly she added, 
"We all thought it was, uh, something else."
     "How do you mean?" the reporter asked.
Ms. Tempest was too embarrassed to say.
     Mrs. Mallow who had no patience with 
gossips told what people had been saying 
about it, the nasty stories she had heard.  
The innuendo, the allegations, everything.  
"Tabitha told me all about it the day it 
happened, but nobody believed her then."
     "She was only a kid."
     "Yes."
     "And Tabitha's words exonerated her 
teacher, while people preferred to think 
the worst."
     "Exactly."
     "I wonder why they don't believe good 
things, but jump to condemn."
     The reporter who taped it all, said, 
"They will, now!"
     "They didn't understand," Mrs. Mallow 
added. "I knew what she could do because 
she demonstrated her kind of flight to my 
Grade 3 class, and I was prepared to defend 
Jeremy Player's innocence.  In court even, 
if it came to that."
     "We saw the feature article with your 
kids...excellent story."
     "I wonder how many teachers have been 
ruined this way."
     "I imagine a search of legal cases on 
the internet would tell us that."
     "And not just teachers.  Doctors, 
clergy, coaches, scout leaders...anyone in 
a position of trust."
     "Yes, breach of trust..."
     "Mind you, some ARE guilty..."
     They continued the segment which would 
form a time block in a feature documentary 
forming in the back of the reporter's mind.

                         
    So the next weary day passed, with 
knots of skygazing people still keeping 
their vigil at the arena.  Others had gone 
home and then to jobs and to school, but 
Tabitha's family and faithful friends 
remained where Tab had last been seen,
believing perhaps that to abandon their 
position would be the same as giving up 
all hope.
     The sound of helicopters was 
reassuring for they were doing SOMETHING.  
For the pilots it was not reassuring at 
all.  Except for lowflying birds below 
them and a pair of bald eagles above, 
they were alone in the huge sky.  Even 
with binoculars their tired eyes saw 
nothing vaguely resembling a thirteen year 
old girl.  It had developed an eerily 
surreal quality to be looking for such
an unlikely object.


     High above the eagles, indeed, high 
above the clouds that scudded on the wind, 
Tabitha was slowly regaining consciousness, 
drifting not quite in and not quite out, 
scarcely aware of the cold and the pain 
and the terrible thirst...
     She stirred in her dream, walking in 
snow, a beautiful soft new snow, so bright 
in the sun, twinkling alternately with 
diamonds as she drifted in, and with stars 
as the pain of her timid consciousness 
faded, and she had to decide which to keep
...stars or diamonds... It was such a hard
decision that she could not make up her 
mind, but before she could have dinner she 
had to make a choice.  And again the 
diamonds on the snow faded out and the snow 
grew darker and even the stars were gone in 
the soft darkness.

                         
     Tab had no idea she had travelled at 
all, but the hours that passed between 
rousing and sleep were easy ones, 
permitting some recovery. Briefly there was 
an impression she would never forget, lying 
on her back now, looking up... she had never 
seen such a sky!  Brilliantly luminous, yet 
the deepest blueblack she had ever seen, 
the colour warm with benevolence that 
comforted her before fear had found her, 
protecting.... But why did her chest ache 
when she breathed and why no matter how 
hard she breathed, did she have to breathe 
harder? 
     Thus it was not until the afternoon 
shadows lengthened on the ground, and 
Tabitha's discomfort grew that she found 
the wind of her speed had become very cold.  
Chilled to the bone, she had no idea how 
fast she was going, except that the loose
belt was whipping her bare legs.  They 
smarted and burned, but worse was the pain 
in her ears, like knives.  Tab had to 
swallow many times to pop them, but it was 
hard to swallow nothing, and they still hurt.
     Worst was her throbbing headache, and 
the shock when she put her hand up to feel 
the sting of her forehead.  It did not feel 
right at all! Terribly tender to the 
slightest touch.
     Crusty black stuff?  And red... Blood!  
Her shallow breathing gasped for air.  
Where was her HAIR?  What had happened to 
her HAIR!  A very sore place prickled back 
on top of her head, a soft mound, sticky 
when she touched it.  What was it?
She could not bring herself to touch it 
again, but was that her scalp?  Peeled back?  
And...and that was bare ... bone?  Sore 
where it wasn't level...  bare bone!
     The dry heaves of sobs came uninvited, 
and took over for a while, making her 
headache far worse.  Tears came to wash 
some of the mess away.
     In desperate pain, she had no idea 
where she was at all.  On her back in the 
air, somewhere between the deep blue and 
the ground, a blue more intense than she 
had ever seen it.  So cold! 
     Perhaps she had slept....
     Her teeth chattered.  She was 
trembling, shaking violently all over.  
Again her mind went blank.  Drifting with 
the wind.
     Tab didn't know how long it had been 
when she woke again.  So quiet.  Either 
she was very high, or else the sun would 
soon be setting, for it hung lower in the 
sky than she was.
     She tried to turn over and found only 
sore muscles.  With nothing to grab, it 
was very hard to flip onto her stomach.  
In spite of a sore neck, she turned her 
head sideways to look below.  Then she 
was sorry she had tried.  It aggravated
her headache, and there was nothing 
familiar down below.  Just a rumpled 
green carpet that faded into hazy blue at 
the edge...
     Maybe she had died, and this was some 
kind of waiting space.  But why would 
everything hurt so badly?  Knives in her 
ears!  She had read somewhere that death 
was the release from pain, so this could 
not be death.  It was so hard to make up 
her mind about anything.
     Oh how cold it was!  She smiled.  At 
least she hadn't gone to the hot place.  
The smile grew as she dozed off, surfacing 
again still in the afterglow of high 
sunshine and fully conscious at last,  
Tab guessed she must still be floating
high in the air.
     Important to get down!  "Down," she 
said, and couldn't believe that squeak was 
her own voice.  More firmly she said "Down" 
but could not see if it was working or not.  
What if it didn't?  "DOWN DOWn dow-n" but 
ran out of breath even to whisper.
     New tears.  "Can't even" (gasp) "get 
d-d-down..."
     "...down," she whispered, "down."  
Even a little would help she thought. 
(Gasp) "DOw-n do-w-
" (Gasp. gasp.) "DOwn!"  Hyperventilating 
hurt, but it was what she had to do.  
"DOwn!"
     The feeling in her ears should have 
been her first clue.  Out of the corner 
of her eye she noticed a movement. 
     What...?  What IS that?  The tether!
The tether floated up level with her legs, 
then above, telling her the best news she 
had ever had: She was on her way down!

                         
     On the ground, it was the blaze of a 
gorgeous sunset, the third since Tabitha 
had disappeared.  Truly an incredibly 
brilliant display as if to announce that 
on the third day...
     The devout among them did not miss the
significance, and crossed themselves, more 
hopeful than they had been for days.  Even 
Ms. Tempest who had been so judgmental, 
caught her breath with wonder.  Could it 
be a sign?
     Mrs. Meander, who had aged twenty 
years in the past two days broke out in a 
smile that erased the signs of distress, 
suddenly excited.  To Miss Longshanks 
beside her, she said, "We will have good 
news soon!"
     Miss Longshanks suddenly recalled 
from the third act of Shakespeare's King 
Henry the Fifth, a quotation that others
used, not knowing where it came from: "We 
are in God's hand." She said it again out 
loud.
     English teacher that she was, she 
quoted from Act IV, "There is some soul of 
goodness in things evil, would men 
observingly distill it out."
     Noticing Mrs. Meander's surprised 
recognition of its meaning, and the 
curiosity of the students around her, 
glowing in the golden brightness of the 
setting sun, Miss Longshanks explained: 
"It is really strange.  I don't usually 
quote Shakespeare but--"
     "We know, Miss,"  Rolph inserted.  
"Never heard you."
     "You never heard much, Rolph," Akim 
observed.
     Such a remark might have earned him a 
clout in the ear, but was greeted instead 
by laughter.  There had been profound 
changes in the past days, bespeaking the 
truth of the quotation.
     Mrs. Meander said what others had felt.
"And yet it became so clear: Out of the evil 
that made this happen in the first place, 
far more good has come."
     Jeremy Player smiled wistfully.  
"Where is the good when Tabitha may have 
bought it--"  The last words choked, "with 
her life?"
     Mrs. Mallow, softhearted soul that she 
was, hugged his arm and said, "No matter 
where she is, she will be all right."
     "Yes," said Mrs Meander, "I feel it."
     Tab's mother who lately had hugged 
Greggy a lot, met his eyes and said, "I had 
lost hope, but found it again."  It was 
then that Greggy saw Mrs. Gunner who had 
been near enough to hear all the talk about 
evil.  Mrs. Gray knew, Tab's teachers all 
knew, but Greggy did not know that Mrs. 
Gunner was aware that she had been an 
instrument of a lot of that evil.  Greggy's 
solemn eyes met those of the barracuda of a 
woman, and found tears in them.
     It changed everything.  As Mrs. Gunner
murmured "I am so sorry, so sorry," a small
bundle of forgiveness went to her, took her 
hands and said, "I know."  Accepting the 
sweetest hug there ever was, "I know," 
Greggy said.
     Then came the real miracle.
     "Mr. Player," Mrs Gunner said, "I know 
I can never undo the harm I have done, and 
cannot expect you to forgive me..."  She 
stood, short and stout in front of the 
silence of the teacher she had destroyed, 
openly wept and said she was truly sorry.  
A silence followed as they held their 
breath, adults with growing sympathy, and 
kids with wonder at the drama they 
witnessed.  
     The "soul of goodness" had much more 
to do.  Hatchet Saxon stood apart from them, 
alone.

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