ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chapter 1: The Gateway

​

Tim Cougar groaned. "Why are they giving us so much homework already? We just started school last week!"

He was sitting in the back seat of the car, doggedly trying to finish a two-page essay that his English teacher had assigned the previous week. In the front seat was Tom, his fraternal twin brother, carefully circling words with his pen in a mini word search. And driving them was Lara, their mother, gently tapping her fingers on the steering wheel while humming along to the 80's station.

Tim could feel a headache coming on, and it had nothing to do with the music. He had stayed up for hours the previous night, feverishly trying to come up with a good thesis for the essay. English was usually his strongest subject, but he already felt like seventh grade would be the hardest yet.

Now that he had only the introduction and conclusion left, he was fighting every student's worst enemy: writer's block.

I still don't know why I would even want to write about the nutria rat problem in Louisiana, he thought.

He also didn't know how he could convince someone to read about it.

He sighed resignedly. His essay had been doomed from the start.

What had really helped to distract him was the dream he had woken up from the night before.

While still brainstorming, and with very little progress, he had fallen asleep on top of his notebook.

In the dream, an old wizard had been locked in deadly combat with a massive dragon. Tim had witnessed the battle from a distance, as if peering through a window, and had then been jerked awake by the sweat matting his shirt before he could see the outcome.

He supposed the dragon had won.

"They just want to check on what you know before you get to the really hard stuff," Lara said, interrupting Tim's thoughts. "That's how it always is." She smiled comfortingly at him through the rear-view mirror.

"Yeah, I guess," he agreed absently.

"It's different these days, though," Tom murmured. He circled a word, his face mere inches from the page. "They put more work on us every year, and nobody does it all--so what's the point?"

Lara eyed him sternly. "You get an education first. After that, you do what you want with it. Listen to your teachers--work hard, study a lot--and you'll be okay. Or maybe I should come sit in class with you?" She grinned mischievously.

Tom's eyes widened in horror. "Pass."

"Yeah, no thanks, Mom," Tim said, laughing.

She giggled, easing the car to a stop at the red light. "I didn't ask you guys what you wanted for Christmas..."

"It's August," Tom pointed out.

"Yeah, but it'll be here before you know it. Y'all better make a list so I can send it to Santa."

"He's not real, Mom. Everybody knows that," Tom said.

She nervously brushed a lock of brown hair from her brow. "Who told you that?"

"A guy in my science class," Tom replied. "He said Santa Claus is just a figment of people's imagination--made up to sell Christmas candy and stuff like that. The whole naughty-nice thing is for parents to keep their kids in line."

"Is that true, Mom?" Tim asked, apprehensive. He dearly hoped it wasn't.

Lara sighed. It was then that the light changed, and she put the car into motion again. "It doesn't matter if he's real or not. What matters is the idea of someone like him. Y'know?

Someone selfless and caring. Someone who goes out of their way to make people happy. It's the kind of person we should all strive to be like. Right?"

He saw Tom nod mechanically, without looking up. He doubted his brother had been listening.

Tim, however, had been absorbing everything his mother said to them and agreed with every word. He wanted to be that kind of person.

Selfless and caring. Like his dad had been.

Why did he have to die?

Tim and Tom were in the fourth grade then. Tim still remembered what class they had been in when their mother came in, at the peak of hysterics, and told them (including the entire class) that their father had been involved in a car crash. Struck head-on by a drunk driver.

They had rushed to the hospital, well over the speed limit, only to find out that Harry Cougar had passed away before they could get there.

Tim doubted his mother had gotten over it...or ever really would, for that matter.

And even though it had been three years, the pain still ate away at him as well, sometimes more than he believed he could stand.

It was when Tim was on the verge of tears that he caught a glimpse of something near the railroad tracks, on the car's right side.

An animal stood there. One which was very much out of place.

He stared, completely stunned. No way.

A unicorn was trotting across the tracks, as if it owned the place.

What the--?

It turned its head as the car passed, its long white mane waving in the wind. It seemed to look right at him.

"Ya'll! Look!" Tim said. "Out there!"

"What?" Tom said, raising his head from his word search and looking at him.

"You don't see it!?" Tim pointed out the window toward the tracks.

"See what?" Tom asked. He turned and peered outside, following Tim's finger.

"You don't...see anything...weird?"

"No," Tom said. "Unless you mean the traffic."

"There's a lot this morning for some reason," Lara said. She had also looked in the direction of the unicorn but showed no sign that she saw anything out of the ordinary.

"Yeah..." Tim agreed absently. They can't see it.

Maybe he was hallucinating. He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep, after all.

Lara took the car into a turn, while the unicorn continued to watch Tim. He stared into the fantastic beast's eyes and never blinked, for fear that it would disappear if he did.

As they rounded the corner and turned onto the street that led to the middle school, the unicorn was lost to sight behind the trees.

Tim didn't finish the essay. All he could think about for the remainder of the ride was the unicorn.

No one would ever believe him.

​

When they finally reached the school, Lara pulled the car up to the front office building and parked it so they could get out.

"You guys be good. See you later, okay?"

"Okay," they both said in unison.

"Love you!" she called as they left the vehicle.

"Bye, love you!" Tim said.

"Love you," Tom mumbled.

They shut the doors, and their mom gave them a last wave and smile before driving off.

Kinder Middle School was mostly bricked and split into a few buildings connected by overhands and walkways. The main office had double doors, which had been propped open so that the students could flood in. Tim and Tom joined the throng and made their way through the narrow hallway, towards their homeroom.

They were paired together in most of their classes, except for English and Math. And that was all right with Tim. He loved his brother, but sometimes he was glad to have some time away from him. Tom always thought he could order him around and nag him because he was older. "You're only older by like two minutes!" Tim would often remind him.

Tim was still dazed from spotting the unicorn, but he knew that he shouldn't let that interfere with his schoolwork. He tried to wave it off, thinking instead about his unfinished essay and what grade he could possibly get for it. This, unfortunately, didn't make him feel any better. "I hate school."

Tom laughed. "You're not the only one."

As they made their way down the hall they passed by and greeted several classmates they recognized and a few teachers who stood outside their doorways waiting for their students to arrive. But there was only one person they stopped to have a full conversation with.

"Hey, John!" Tim said.

The boy was in a wheelchair, sitting in front of Ms. Emma England's classroom.

"How are you?" Tim asked him.

"Hey," Tom said.

John had trouble speaking clearly, so most people could hardly understand him. Tim and Tom were no exception. Which is why they were both thankful when Ms. England showed up behind him. "Hey, fellas. How's it going?"

"Okay," Tim said.

"Pretty good," Tom said.

Emma England was the special education teacher: a sweet middle-aged woman with curly hair who looked after her students with all the tenderness and care that a mother would devote to her children.

John Sherry was at least a year older than the twins. He and his mother had moved to Kinder two years ago. And for all that time, the twins had been the only children to talk to him for more than a minute. The others seemed to avoid him.

"Happy to see you guys," Ms. England said, beaming. "John is, too, as you can see."

John, whose dark bangs almost covered his eyes, was smiling his trademark lopsided grin. Tim couldn't help smiling right back.

"What you been doing?" Tim asked him.

John said something unintelligible to them, and the twins patiently awaited Ms. England's translation. Morning greetings like this had become a sort of ritual.

"His mom brought him at like six-thirty--she had to go to work early," Ms. England said.

"She still won't let him ride the bus?" Tom asked.

"No, she's always scared to let anyone else drive him."

"Dang," Tim said. He didn't know what else to say to that.

"Hey," Ms. England said. "Know what he said earlier?" She laughed, as if remembering something hilarious. "He got up this morning and went to get an orange from the fridge, and he tried to peel it--"

John cried out and waved his hand as if telling her to stop. He looked offended.

"Okay, you tell it, then, mister," Ms. England said, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a mock glare.

John went on talking for close to two minutes, after which Ms. England proceeded to translate. "He said when he tried to peel the orange he couldn't. So, he got his mom to peel it. After she did, though, instead of peeling it he just bit into it, because he was super hungry." She chortled. "And the juice squirted in his mom's face!"

The twins both laughed, as did John, who abashedly covered his face with one hand.

"She got mad for a second, y'know, but then got over it. It's not like he meant to do that. Or did you?" Ms. England stared at John mock-accusingly.

"No!" he cried, still chuckling.

"Was she all right though?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, it washed right off," Ms. England said good-humoredly. "But the orange lost its flavor, so he just threw it away."

John was slapping his thigh repeatedly, beside himself with mirth. Tim couldn't help laughing as well. Tom shook his head, smiling.

After it had settled down, Ms. England asked, "Could y'all do me a favor and bring him to the gym, when third hour's over? I gotta go sit in another class for a little bit before heading over there."

"Sure," Tim said.

"Thanks, guys."

​

They walked down the hall after third hour. John was in front of them, as usual telling them to make a dash for it. Tim could tell that was what he was saying by the way the boy was gesticulating with his hands and waving them forward.

"We can't go any faster," Tim laughed. "We'll get in trouble."

But John insisted, seeming to relish the challenge of testing the wheelchair's power down the hallway.

Tim picked up speed ever so slightly, so that he was walking at a brisk pace.

John laughed. It was a loud and shrill but innocently joyful laugh.

"Hey!" Tom said. "Not so fast!" He was helping push the chair on one side, struggling to keep up, with the massive load that was his backpack weighing him down.

"Sorry," Tim muttered. They had just reached the gym when he turned and pointed at John, holding back a smile. "He made me do it!"

John guffawed loudly.

Tom just shook his head resignedly as they went inside.

​

Instead of exercising today, Coach Terry made the class sit in the bleachers while he sat on the far side of the gym, grading papers, now and again glancing up to make sure his students weren't up to no good.

John lounged in his wheelchair beside Tim and Tom, who sat at the very bottom of the bleachers.

John took down his backpack (which had been draped across the back of his chair) and placed it in front of him. He seemed to have a hard time undoing the zipper, so Tim helped him with it.

John nodded his thanks and then pulled out a thin orange hardcover book. On the cover was a strange furry character in a big hat, peering down at a plate of food.

"Green Eggs and Ham," Tim said. "I remember that--it took Tom forever to read it."

John laughed, but Tom looked none too happy.

"Just like it took you forever to learn how to throw a ball," Tom added grumpily.

"Forgive him. He's not a morning person," Tim told John. He had continued to laugh throughout this exchange. "I'm not usually either--but..." He thought about the unicorn, and how even though people would probably laugh at him, he was dying to tell someone about it. "I saw a unicorn on the way to school," he said.

Tom chortled and shook his head again. He had obviously heard enough of his brother's foolishness and decided to tune him out at that point, for he took out his MP3 player and got to work on some Math homework.

John, on the other hand, was riveted. "Where?" was all he managed to say.

"By the railroad tracks," said Tim. "It was looking right at me!"

"Wow!" John exclaimed.

He appeared as excited as Tim felt at that moment.

"I know!" Tim said. "I don't know where it came from--or what it was doing there--but I'm definitely gonna have to look again on the way home!"

John made a gesture with his hands to mimic the snapping of a picture.

"Of course!" Tim pulled out his mom's old flip phone, which was only to be used for emergencies. "I'll keep this in camera mode. If I see the unicorn again, I'll snap a picture."

John grinned widely, nodding.

"Hey, boys!" Ms. England's voice suddenly sounded from the doorway. As she made her way over, Tim shot John the hand signal for silence, and John nodded, still grinning.

Tom took out his earphones just long enough to say hi to Ms. England, while Tim offered her a seat next to them.

"Whatchu guys been up to?" she asked cheerfully.

"Oh, nothing much," Tim said. "Watching Tom fail at Math."

"I heard that," Tom muttered, glaring at him. "Jerk."

Tim could just faintly hear the metal band music coming from Tom's earphones. He was astonished his brother could ever hear him over that racket.

"You guys are hilarious," Ms. England laughed. "I bet you keep John entertained."

It wasn't long before the end of hour bell sounded, and everyone started filing out of the gym.

Ms. England began to roll John's wheelchair to the door, but Tim stepped in and lightly put his hand on her shoulder.

"We brought him here, Ms. England. We can take him back."

"That's so sweet," she said, brightening. "He's really lucky to have friends like you."

"Thanks," Tim said, with a smile and nod.

Tom's earphones were still in, but he also smiled, silently acknowledging the compliment.

John voiced something as they were leaving.

"What's that?" Tim asked.

"I don't know. Something about a picture. 'Don't forget the picture.'" Ms. England suddenly stared sternly at them. "You guys haven't been on the Internet, have you? Boys--"

"No, nothing like that! It's something we've been seeing outside our house," Tim said. He came up with the lie on the spot and felt guilty. "It's like a squirrel or something. But missing the big tail, y'know?"

"Oh, like a chipmunk?"

"Yeah, that's it!" Tim said. He absolutely loathed lying, but at the same time he didn't want to spill the truth before they had proof.

"Okay," Ms. England said. "I thought maybe you guys--never mind."

Tim laughed, his cheeks flushing.

​

When they returned to her doorway, she told them, "Y'all have a good one--and thanks again."

"You're welcome."

"No problem."

Ms. England left John by the door so she could get the room situated for the next hour, in which the rest of her special education class would be coming soon.

John still sat in place as the twins walked away. Tim saw him staring at him. He waved, and in answer the other boy flashed him a secretive wink.

​

After school ended, they rode the bus. Their mom hadn't come to pick them up.

Tim voiced his worry to Tom, who just shrugged. "She always says to just ride the bus if she doesn't come. It's all right."

Tim had gotten an extension on his essay assignment, especially since half the class hadn't finished it either. He couldn't say he was surprised. He was so relieved that he almost forgot to look for the unicorn as they passed by the railroad tracks. When he did, however, it wasn't there.

He searched all around to no avail, finally giving up when the bus got out of town.

He didn't even bother taking out the phone. It was no use.

The unicorn, if he had even really seen one in the first place, was gone.

​

Their house was in a more rural area of Kinder, on the outskirts. The land was overgrown with oak and pine trees. They had few neighbors, and the area stayed mostly quiet.

After being dropped off, they twins walked up to the house and noticed their mom had taped a note to the door. It wasn't often that she left them alone, but now that they were getting older it occurred to Tim that it may start happening more frequently. They both stood there as Tim read the note aloud:

​

"Boys,

Sorry I couldn't pick you up. Betty Schwartz wanted me to come over and sell her the angel I cross-stitched. She lives in Lafayette, so I'll be home tonight. Keep the doors locked and behave yourselves until I get back.

​

Love,

Mom

​

"Yeah, Tom! Behave yourself!" Tim added mockingly.

"You behave yourself, big dummy."

"What's for supper, though?"

"I don't know. Leftovers, I guess," said Tom. "Or maybe she's bringing something. Anyways, the house is all ours. We could burn it down if we wanted." He laughed.

"Yeah, let's not do that."

"Wanna play baseball before it gets dark?" Tom asked hopefully.

"Nah." Tim kicked at the grass absently.

"Come on--you never want to play!" Tom persisted. "Whatchu got against sports?"

"Nothing. It's just, I'd rather read, or watch TV or something. You don't wanna watch a movie?"

"Nope. I'm going set up the bases--I don't know what you're gonna do."

"Okay, fine!" Tim relented.

​

"Get behind the base!" Tom hollered to Tim as he ran for the pitcher's box, or what passed for one in their case. They had merely piled a whole bunch of leaves where the box should have been, so Tom was standing up to his ankles in oak leaves. "Hope there's no poison ivy in this crap." He kicked at it. "I'll pitch the ball--you try to hit it!"

"I didn't know that, brother dear!" Tim called back sarcastically. He hoped to at least get the ball past the first tree in the yard, which was about fifteen feet away.

Tim doubted he could even hit that far, but he was willing to try. The last thing he wanted was his brother to laugh at his expense.

"Let's play!" Tom yelled.

"All right!" Tim lined up his bat, as Tom prepared to pitch.

Squinting in the bright rays of the sun, Tom sighted for the pitch and threw the baseball as hard as he could while still trying to stay on target.

It took off straight for Tim, who struck the ball with all his might. A great whack resounded across the yard, and the ball soared up toward the trees and beyond their makeshift diamond until they could no longer see it.

"Yes! Home run!" Tim could barely contain his glee as he started running for first base. Maybe there's something to this baseball thing after all. He felt an adrenaline rush.

When Tim reached home base, Tom stood there with his hands on his hips.

"Okay, you scored. Yay!" Tom said. "Now help me find the ball!"

The two of them sprinted over to the spot where it had appeared to land, all the way in the middle of the closest yard.

Their neighbor was a cranky old lady named Mrs. Janie, notorious for being mean to children. They usually made it a point to avoid her place, but sometimes exceptions had to be made.

Thankfully, her garage was empty today, and the woman herself was nowhere in sight.

Tim and Tom found the ball near a pine tree, besides which was a gaping hole in the ground. Tim was certain he hadn't noticed the hole when he'd seen her yard from his house.

The hole was about two feet in diameter, just large enough for a thin person to fit through. The boys both stared down in wonder at it, the baseball lying forgotten on the ground nearby.

"What do you think's down there?" Tim asked.

"I don't know," Tom said. "Snake...or a rabbit."

"Yeah. Definitely a rabbit hole. It's pretty big."

"Unless there's just a really big snake."

Tim's eyes widened. "Then I'm never coming outside again."

As they leaned forward and continued to watch the hole, an invisible force suddenly tugged at them and pulled them forward.

Tim glanced at Tom. He could tell from his brother's panicked expression that he felt it too.

They both tried to resist, but the grip on them was too strong.

In what seemed to Tim like a split second, the two of them were forcibly propelled into the mysterious hole and then plunged headfirst into a swirl of wind and color.