Bridge to Terabithia

A few days after the encounter with the enemies of Terabithia, they had an encounter of a different sort at school. Leslie came out at recess to tell Jess that she had started into the girls’ room only to be stopped by the sound of crying from one of the stalls. She lowered her voice. “This sounds crazy,” she said. “But from the feet, I’m sure it’s Janice Avery in there.”

“You’re kidding.” The picture of Janice Avery crying on the toilet seat was too much for Jess to imagine.

“Well, she’s the only one in school that has Willard Hughes’s name crossed out on her sneakers. Besides, the smoke is so thick in there you need a gas mask.”

“Are you sure she was crying?”

“Jess Aarons, I can tell if somebody’s crying or not.”

Lord, what was the matter with him? Janice Avery had given him nothing but trouble, and now he was feeling responsible for her—like one of the Burkes’ timber wolves or beached whales. “She didn’t even cry when kids teased her ’bout Willard after the note.”

“Yeah. I know.”

He looked at her. “Well,” he said. “What should we do?”

“Do?” she asked. “What do you mean what should we do?”

How could he explain it to her? “Leslie. If she was an animal predator, we’d be obliged to try to help her.”

Leslie gave him a funny look.

“Well, you’re the one who’s always telling me I gotta care,” he said.

“But Janice Avery?”

“If she’s crying, there gotta be something really wrong.”

“Well, what are you planning to do?”

He flushed. “I can’t go into no girls’ room.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re going to send me into the shark’s jaws. No, thank you, Mr. Aarons.”

“Leslie, I swear—I’d go in there if I could.” He really thought he would, too. “You ain’t scared of her, are you, Leslie?” He didn’t mean it in a daring way, he was just dumbfounded by the idea of Leslie being scared.

She flashed her eyes at him and tossed her head back in that proud way she had. “OK, I’m going in. But I want you to know, Jess Aarons, I think it’s the dumbest idea you ever had in your life.”

He crept down the hall after her and hid behind the nearest alcove to the girls’ room door. He ought at least to be there to catch her when Janice kicked her out.

There was a quiet minute after the door swung shut behind Leslie. Then he heard Leslie saying something to Janice. Next a string of cuss words which were too loud to be blurred by the closed door. This was followed by some loud sobbing, not Leslie’s, thank the Lord, and some sobbing and talking mixed up and—the bell.

He couldn’t be caught staring at the door of the girls’ room, but how could he leave? He’d be deserting in the line of fire. The rush of kids into the building settled it. He let himself be caught up in the stream and made his way to the basement steps, his brains still swirling with the sounds of cussing and sobbing.

Back in the fifth-grade classroom, he kept his eye glued on the door for Leslie. He half expected to see her come through flattened straight out like the coyote on Road Runner. But she came in smiling without so much as a black eye. She waltzed over to Mrs. Myers and whispered her excuse for being late, and Mrs. Myers beamed at her with what was becoming known as the “Leslie Burke special.”

How was he supposed to find out what had happened? If he tried to pass a note, the other kids would read it. Leslie sat way up in the front corner nowhere near the waste basket or pencil sharpener, so there was no way he could pretend to be heading somewhere else and sneak a word with her. And she wasn’t moving in his direction. That was for sure. She was sitting straight up in her seat, looking as pleased with herself as a motorcycle rider who’s just made it over fourteen trucks.

Leslie smirked clear through the afternoon and right on to the bus where Janice Avery gave her a little crooked smile on the way to the back seat, and Leslie looked over at Jess as if to say, “See!” He was going crazy wanting to know. She even put him off after the bus pulled away, pointing her head at May Belle as if to say, “We shouldn’t discuss it in front of the children.”

Finally, finally in the safe darkness of the stronghold she told him.

“Do you know why she was crying?”

“How’m I supposed to know? Lord, Leslie, will you tell me? What in the heck was going on in there?”

“Janice Avery is a very unfortunate person. Do you realize that?”

“What was she crying about, for heaven’s sake?”

“It’s a very complicated situation. I can understand now why Janice has so many problems relating to people.”

“Will you tell me what happened before I have a hernia?”

“Did you know her father beats her?”

“Lots of kids’ fathers beat ’um.” Will you get on with it?

“No, I mean really beats her. The kind of beatings they take people to jail for in Arlington.” She shook her head in disbelief. “You can’t imagine….”

“Is that why she was crying? Just ’cause her father beats her?”

“Oh, no. She gets beaten up all the time. She wouldn’t cry at school about that.”

“Then what was she crying for?”