They had gone only a few yards into the woods beyond the creek bed when Leslie stopped.
“How about right here?” she asked. “Sure,” Jess agreed quickly, relieved that there was no need to plunge deeper into the woods.
He would take her there, of course, for he wasn't such a coward that he would mind a little exploring
now and then farther in amongst the ever-darkening columns of the tall pines.
But as a regular thing, as a permanent place, this was where he would choose to be—
here where the dogwood and redbud played hide and seek between the oaks and evergreens,
and the sun flung itself in golden streams through the trees to splash warmly at their feet.
“Sure,” he repeated himself, nodding vigorously. The underbrush was dry and would be easy to clear away.
The ground was almost level. “This'll be a good place to build.”
Leslie named their secret land “Terabithia,” and she loaned Jess all of her books about Narnia, so he would know how things went in a magic kingdom—
how the animals and the trees must be protected and how a ruler must behave. That was the hard part.
When Leslie spoke, the words rolling out so regally, you knew she was a proper queen.
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