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up and up until it was lost to sight among the clouds. It swayed ever so slightly in the early morning breeze; its red and green speckled leaves made a strangely soothing sound. The stalk itself was as wide around as Jack was, as if it had been custom grown. Which, of course, it had.
    “It’s beautiful,” breathed my mother.
    “It is,” I acknowledged. I bit down on my tongue. It didn’t do any good. “It’s also impossible!” I burst out. “Jack can’t climb that. It will never hold him.”
    “One just like it held me,” my mother reminded me.
    “But Mama—”
    “It’s all right, Gen,” Jack interrupted to silence me. “It may look impossible. But somehow I think that it’s supposed to. The World Above and the World Below aren’t supposed to be joined together. People aren’t supposed to travel back and forth. To do so takes courage. It takes—”
    “A leap of faith,” I finished for him on a sigh. My mother made an approving sound. She moved to stand between us, linking arms, so that we formed a chain. Together, we all stood gazing at the beanstalk. It flicked its leaves at us, as if waving hello.
    “You should go soon, Jack,” Mama said softly. “The sun is almost up.”
    “I’m really going to do it,” Jack said, his voice reverent. “I’m going to climb a magic beanstalk.”
    Twenty minutes later all was in readiness. Jack had wolfed down a breakfast of all his favorite foods, then settled the pack he and Mama had prepared onto his shoulders. The three of us returned to the cornfield and the beanstalk.
    “What will we do if someone comes by?” I asked suddenly.
    “Easy,” Mama declared stoutly. “We’ll simply pretend the beanstalk isn’t there.”
    I gave a startled laugh. “Mama, that will never work. Not even our neighbors are that gullible.”
    “Don’t be so sure,” my mother answered. “If there’s one thing people in the World Below hate, it’s for others to think they’re foolish. If we pretend the beanstalk isn’t there, it won’t be. You mark my words.
    “People in the World Above, on the other hand,” she continued, turning to Jack, “expect to be surprised. That’s why your best course of action will be to be precisely what you seem, my son.”
    Jack made a face. “A country bumpkin.”
    “Better a live country bumpkin than a dead nobleman,” my mother said bluntly. She laid a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Do just as we discussed. Find out as much as you can about the current situation, then come right back. After that, we can put Gen to work on a plan.”
    Jack raised a hand to cover Mama’s, giving it a squeeze. “I know what to do, Mama. I’ll be careful, I promise.”
    “Then I wish you luck, my son.”
    Jack turned and met my eyes. “I’ll be back soon,” he said.
    “I’ll be waiting for you,” I replied.
    Without another word, Jack strode to the beanstalk and laid a hand against its trunk. I saw the way he leaned against it, as if testing his weight against its strength. Then he tipped his head back, as if he could already see the World Above, floating somewhere high above him. His face filled with emotion. Never in all my life, neither before nor since, have I seen more joy than I did in Jack’s face the instant before he began to climb that beanstalk.
    Good luck, Jack
, I thought.
I love you
.
    Jack set a foot against the trunk, wrapped his arms around it, and boosted himself up. Then, just as if he was climbing a tree, he began to climb the beanstalk. Mama and I stood watching as he made his way into the sky, until the light of the sun made tears fill our eyes and we had no choice but to look down.

 

S IX
     
    Jack was gone all that day, and the next one as well. Mama and I did our best to keep ourselves busy. On the first day, we cleaned the house from top to bottom. Sheets washed, bedding aired, floors swept and scrubbed, windows polished until they sparkled. Mama even tied her biggest apron around her oldest dress and blacked