Read The Gleaning for Free Online Page B

dragon.
    He was allowed to play with these toys here, but not in the real house. He didn’t understand why.
    “Where am I?” Logan said out loud.
    Everything was dark and smelled the way blackberries do after they’ve been basking in afternoon sun—fresh, ripe, and begging to be eaten.
    Picking berries from the thicket near his house was one of his favorite things. He knew to watch for thorns. Mama always warned him even sweet things could sting.
    Rubbing his eyes, his long legs still shrunk into kid’s pajamas, he wondered what time it was and when he’d fallen asleep. One thing Logan knew without a doubt was that his spirit inhabited the body of a young boy, and he needed to figure out why. His memories, thoughts, and feelings merged with this small child’s until he couldn’t separate one from the other. After an hour or so of frustration, he stopped trying and simply gave into the nostalgic sensation of wonder.
    Peeking out the circular window, Logan examined the snowflake-shaped stars scattered across the night sky until he settled on the brightest of all—the planet Venus. On tiptoes, he could see every crater, every hole like he had Superman’s vision. Daddy talked about the man in the moon, how if you looked close enough you could see him. But he never talked about this bright planet that looked like Mama’s smile.
    His little heart skipped a beat when he looked down. He was so high up! How would he get down? Holding on to the splintery wall, he tripped on something—a rope—with bars. A ladder! He held onto the coils and was about to fling it down like the unraveling of a cartoon tongue, when he stopped. Something, an intuition maybe, made him set it back down.
     
    Lily
    The earth stopped shaking, and I looked down and saw something lavender in my hand. It was a shoelace, with the plastic tip cut off, not a ribbon at all. Where had it come from?
    In my mind’s eye, I replayed my attempt to grab the doppelganger’s wrist. All the sensations returned in full force: my fingers slipping through her buttery flesh, the strobe, her wisp of wicked laughter in the breeze. A flash of lavender as she slipped from my grasp.
    It may not be much, but it was something. And unlike the strobe and the giggles and the red dust on the euca-trees, this was a clue I wasn’t meant to find.
     
    Logan
    “Logan, shh…stay quiet.”
    “Mama!”
    “Shh. It’s okay, I’m here now,” she said in a soft whisper.
    Like the hero-prince in one of her stories, Mama appeared in the doorway of the tree house—her hair tied in a knot, her mouth twisted with worry—to rescue him.
    “How did you climb up without the ladder?” he asked.
    Mama cupped his face in her hands, filling him with an odd sensation, like swallowing a mug of melted honey. “Magic,” she whispered.
    “Teach me.”
    “I will. Someday.” She kissed both of his cheeks, then glanced out the doorway again. Her expression, and the low, urgent tone of her voice, frightened him. “Don’t be scared. You are the bravest boy in the whole wide world.”
    “Braver than Spider-Man?”
    “Braver. And wiser than Merlin.”
    “Wiser than Merlin? Nobody is wiser than Merlin.” He was trying his hardest not to shout.
    “Except you, Logan. You are wiser than Merlin and stronger than the strongest dragon.”
    “Now I know you are making up stories, Mama. I’ll never be as strong as a dragon.”
    “You are the most special boy in the world, and one day you’ll be as strong as a dragon.”
    “I don’t feel as strong as a dragon.”
    “You will, Logan,” she said, with flashing, knowing eyes. Then Mama pulled something, a chain with a glowing stone, out of her pocket. “This is for you. It’s a magic amulet. Never take it off, and it will always guide you.”
    “A necklace?” He crinkled his little nose. “Necklaces are for girls.”
    “Not this one. This one is for wizards.”
    The amulet shone in his hand. “Cover its light. Like this.” Mama tucked