Because Mrs. Myers had helped him already by understanding that he would never forget Leslie.
He thought about it all day, how before Leslie came, he had been a nothing—a stupid, weird little kid
who drew funny pictures and chased around a cow field trying to act big—
trying to hide a whole mob of foolish little fears running riot inside his gut.
It was Leslie who had taken him from the cow pasture into Terabithia and turned him into a king.
He had thought that was it. Wasn’t king the best you could be?
Now it occurred to him that perhaps Terabithia was like a castle where you came to be knighted.
After you stayed for a while and grew strong you had to move on.
For hadn’t Leslie, even in Terabithia, tried to push back the walls of his mind
and make him see beyond to the shining world—huge and terrible and beautiful and very fragile?
(Handle with care—everything—even the predators.)
Now it was time for him to move out. She wasn’t there, so he must go for both of them.
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