~5.22~

“I think the real question is, what are you most afraid of?” a voice said from behind Laurie. She turned to find the girl in the striped socks standing there. By the light of the upstairs windows, it was more apparent that her hair was dyed green.

“Certainty,” Laurie said. “Finding out.”

“Finding out what?” the girl asked.

“I don’t know,” Laurie said. “It’s like there’s this door, and I’m afraid to open it, not because of what’s behind it but because of what might be behind it… the potential, you know.

“No one is really afraid of opening the door… not unless there’s something they’re afraid of finding. So the question is, what are you most afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” Laurie said. “I am afraid, but I can’t think of anything… it’s almost like… like I’m too grown up to be. But I don’t want to be.”

“So what are you more afraid of: you open up the door and you find out there is something there, or you open up the door and find out that there isn’t?”

“I don’t know,” Laurie said again. “I mean, I came all the way out here… I blew my vacation time and my travel money, and I got myself all psyched up… I don’t want there to be nothing. I want there to be a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, and fairies in the garden, and… even trolls under bridges. Ghosts in haunted houses.”

“And witches?”

“Them, too,” Laurie said. “I just… I want there to be something to believe in.”

“Magic?”

“If you want to call it that,” Laurie said. “Sure. Para…”

“Why be like that, if that’s what you want?” the girl asked. “Do you want it, or don’t you?”

“I… I guess I do.”

“Then why do you want out?” the girl asked. She pointed at the balcony. “You can end this at any time. Do you want it to end?”

“No,” Laurie said. “I don’t.”