Ten-year-old Cady Jordan sat on the front porch swing and hugged her knees as she watched the family's belongings being loaded into a big yellow truck with the words MAYFLOWER MOVING AND STORAGE printed on the side. She turned slightly on the swing to see if her pink bike was still behind the holly bush at the side of the house, where she'd hidden it earlier.

It was.

Her heart kicked up a beat as she tried to figure a way to cajole her mother into letting her make one last trip down to the Judas Grove to say good-bye to her friends. She ran her mother's possible objections over in her mind. She would get dirty and need a bath. The cleaning supplies and the towels were packed already; therefore, she had to stay clean until the church supper and the final round of good-byes. The Judas Grove was a dangerous place to play was the second objection. The third objection would be that her mother didn't care for the Hollister twins. The truth was, her mother didn't like Mrs. Hollister because she wore skimpy clothes and lots of makeup, and one time she'd seen Mr. Hollister pinch Mrs. Hollister's bottom in full view of everyone at the church picnic. The fourth objection, and possibly the worst, was her father. For some reason he hated the Judas Grove, as the kids called it. His face always turned red, and his eyes got mean and hard when it was mentioned.

She heard her name being called. She looked down at the Mickey Mouse watch on her wrist, a gift from her grandmother, and winced. If she was going, she had to go soon or the others would leave. She had to show up, she just had to. Even if she pedaled as fast as she could, she knew time was running short. "I'm on the swing, Mom."

Agnes Jordan came out to the porch. "You look like you're up to something your father wouldn't approve of. Are you, Cady?"

Cady shook her head. "Mom, what does sanct-ta-moneus mean?"

"Good Lord, Cady, where did you hear such a big word?" her mother demanded. Cady wished there was a smile on her face. Her mother hardly ever smiled even when she tucked her into bed at night. She had never, ever, seen a smile on her father's face. Her grandmother, on the other hand, smiled all the time.

"Mr. and Mrs. Hollister said you were sanct-ta-moneus. Mrs. Hollister said the raisin cake you made for the bazaar last week was heavy enough to be used as a doorstop."

"Well I never..." her mother sputtered as she went back inside.

"Don't worry, Mom, I like your raisin cake. I even told Mrs. Hollister I liked it." Cady jumped off the swing and ran down the steps. "I'm going to take a ride on my bike. I'll be back in time to change my clothes for the church supper."

Cady pedaled her bike as fast as she could, careening around corners and coasting down the hill, then pedaling again on a straight road that led to the Judas Grove on the outskirts of Indigo Valley. Her favorite place in the whole, wide world.

The little group waiting for Cady acted like the ten-year-olds they were, jumping up and down, whistling, and clapping their hands.

"Gee whiz, we thought you weren't coming," Andy Hollister said, linking his arm with Cady's. "Don't be afraid. I did it, and all your heart does is beat real fast until you land. It was Pete's turn to bring the Kool-Aid and cookies. Do you want to eat first and then do it or the other way around?"

Cady could feel her insides start to shake as she looked at her friends. It was probably better just to do it and get it over with. She took a moment to ponder her immediate problem. She was moving away, and she would probably never, ever, see her friends again so why did she have to climb the hill and ride down the zip line? The zip line was a homemade contraption of old telephone cable wire, one end of which was attached to the mighty oak at the top of the hill and the other end to a smaller oak at the base of the hill on the other side of the pond. The object was to slide down the taut line, over the thirty-foot drop, out over the pond, then skid to a stop at the edge of the pond without getting wet. Because if she didn't, she'd be leaving with her tail between her legs, and the kids would call her a sissy chicken. She wasn't even going to think about what her parents would say if they ever found out she was at the Judas Grove and she rode the zip line. Knowing her father, she wouldn't see the bright light of day until she was thirty-five, maybe longer. Her mother wouldn't intervene either.

"You ready, Cady?" Pete asked.

Pete Danson was a nice kid, nicer than the Hollister twins. They'd been her friends from the time they met at Bible school at the age of four. Pete knew she was afraid. They all knew she was afraid. Afraid or not, she still had to do it. At least their tormentors weren't around to heckle her. She voiced her thought as she wondered what was in the paper sack Pete was holding in his hands. It looked heavy.

"They were here about an hour ago. We pretended to leave so they would. Then we came back to wait for you," Andy said. "Remember now, don't close your eyes. You have to keep them open so you don't smack into one of the trees. You can do it, Cady. We'll be waiting for you on the other side of the pond. Amy has her camera. We'll send you the picture at your new address, okay? You can't show your mom or dad. If you do, she'll call our moms and tell them we hang out here. Promise, Cady."

"Okay, I promise." She solemnly crossed her heart. She'd seen the pictures of the others taken just as they hit the middle of the zip line. They were all so proud of those pictures because Amy managed to capture their looks of horror, elation, and devil-may-care attitude when they were dead center over the pond, thirty feet above the water. You had to be brave and fearless to ride the zip line. She wanted her own photo, too, so she could show it to her new friends in Vermont.

Cady climbed the hill, slipping and sliding until she made it to the top, where the grove of trees, including the Judas tree, peppered the little bluff. Her heart pounded in her chest when she looked down at the homemade zip line the boys had first hooked up over a year ago. They'd gotten the cable from the junkyard, the wooden handles from Pete's mother's shopping bags. They checked the cable every day, and every day they proclaimed it to be safe even though the biggest of all the trees, the Judas tree that stood sentinel over the others, now had deep wounds in the trunk. It was Amy's idea to move the cable from the Judas tree to the oak tree because it was higher and gave a more thrilling ride. Pete had agreed but not because he wanted a more thrilling ride. He had been concerned that the cable was harming the Judas tree.

"Anytime you're ready," freckle-faced Andy shouted. "Go on the count of five. We'll count together. You can hear us, can't you?"

"I can hear you. Just hold your horses, Andy Hollister. I'm gonna do it. Give me time to climb the tree and get out to the branch."

They knew she was afraid. She knew she could just go home and let them think what they wanted to think. In just a few hours, she would be on her way to Vermont, and she would never see them again.

Her insides started to shake. She looked down at the pond. Not a ripple showed on the water's surface. Her gaze went to the zip line attached to the biggest tree in the grove. She wasn't afraid to make the jump. Making the jump meant she had to leave the safety of the branch, jump off into thin air, and grab the wooden handle that would enable her to sail down the line. If she didn't jump the right way, she'd drop thirty feet into the pond. But heights didn't bother her. It was falling into the water that scared her because she couldn't swim.

Five minutes later, Cady was up the tree and belly-crawling along a thick branch. She turned when she heard a hissing noise. Her arms froze on the limb when she heard Pete Danson shout, "It's them!" She half turned to see Jeff King and Boomer Ward in the tree next to hers. Her stomach started to heave as she tried to slide backward. Who cared if they called her a sissy chicken. All she wanted to do was to go home and sit on the swing.

"Get down! Back off, Cady," the three on the ground shouted.

"I can't. My overalls are caught on something!" she shouted. She risked a glance over her shoulder in time to see Jeff King do a Tarzan leap to the tree she was in.

"Hurry up, Cady, do it now before he pushes you," the three on the ground shouted in unison. "Hurry up! He's almost up to you."

In her panic, Cady closed her eyes. Maybe she was having a bad dream and would wake up any second. She heard her friends shouting to one another to throw rocks at the bully climbing out on the branch behind her. She risked opening her eyes to see rocks of all sizes sailing through the air. One hit her ankle, but she barely felt the pain. Amy Hollister had the best pitching arm in Indigo Valley. She was even better than the boys.

They were all screaming now at the top of their lungs, "Go! Hurry up! He's right behind you! Boomer's out of the tree. Go, Cady, go!" Pete yelled.

Cady wiggled and squirmed just enough to see that Jeff King was almost up to her. "Don't you dare come out on this branch, you big creep."

"Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it?" the bully blustered. Out of the corner of her eye, Cady could see movement. That had to mean Boomer Ward was doing something to the zip line. Fear, unlike anything she'd ever felt before, consumed her, but she reached for the wooden handle. Then she did exactly what her friends told her not to do: she squeezed her eyes shut. She felt Jeff behind her, felt his hands on her shirt, heard him saying stuff in her ear she didn't want to hear. His hold was secure, she couldn't shake him off. She saw the rock whizzing through the air, felt the pain.

"No! No!" the kids on the opposite side of the pond shouted.

"Don't do it, Jeff! The cable won't hold you both!" Boomer shouted.

His warning came too late as the wooden handle slid down the zip line, Jeff King hanging on to her skimpy yellow tee shirt. She felt it rip, felt his grappling hands. She heard the screams, heard the splash, then she was in the water herself. Pain ricocheted up and down her body. She wanted to cry out, but she couldn't move.

"They're dead! Look at all the blood on Jeff's head. One of our rocks got him good. Cady isn't moving either. We have to get help! Pete, run to town and get help!" Andy shouted, his face registering horror and terror.

"They'll blame us. If we tell, they'll blame us. They'll send us to one of those places where they lock you up. If we don't tell, they won't know. We can't do anything now because they're dead. Dead means you never wake up. Let's go to the park and pretend we were there all afternoon," Amy said.

"Where's Boomer? He was monkeying around with the zip line. I bet he loosened it. He's thirteen. He could do that," Andy said.

"I saw him running away," Amy said. "He doesn't want to get blamed either. C'mon, c'mon, we have to get out of here. If her dad finds out we made her do the zip, he'll make us burn in hell. He's a preacher, he can do that!"

"Are we going to promise not to tell?" Pete Danson asked. The twins nodded. "Then, run," Pete said as he sprinted off, the paper sack still in his hands, the twins right on his heels.

The moment the three were out of sight, Boomer Ward crept out of the undergrowth and crossed the pond. He knew Jeff King was dead because he could see his brains. He wasn't sure about Cady Jordan. He pulled and tugged until she was completely out of the water. He put his hand on her chest to see if her heart was beating. He'd seen actors do that on television. He almost fainted with relief when he felt her heart beating. "I'm going for help, Cady. I didn't do anything to the cable. I was just trying to make sure it was tight enough to hold you both. I'll get someone to help you. Don't cry, Cady."

Boomer ran up the embankment. He looked back at the Judas tree and felt sick to his stomach. He didn't stop to think. In a flash, he undid the zip line from the smaller oak, yanked the other end from the larger oak, and tossed it down to the pond. He backtracked, shouting to Cady to hold on. Then he climbed on his bike and rode home. He was so dizzy with anxiety he almost fainted when he realized his mother wasn't home. Finding the telephone number of the police station on the list of emergency numbers taped to the refrigerator, he dialed it. He spoke deep in his throat, trying to disguise his voice.

Then he ran out to the toolshed, where he crouched down and hid behind the lawn mower. He prayed, saying all the prayers he'd learned since starting catechism classes.

Copyright © 2002 by First Draft, Inc./I>