Forever Doon Read Online Free PDF Page B

claiming to have materialized from half a world away.
    “Tell us what transpired,” I coaxed. “Be as exact as you can in your account. Any detail—no matter how small—could be of importance.”
    Cheska Santos nodded and raised her delicate hand to sweep the dark fringe of hair from her eyes. Despite the nervous gesture, her gaze was clear as she began to tell her story.
    “This morning I woke up in my bed in Tayabas, which is a little over three hours from the capital. Although I didn’t have anything specific I needed to do, I felt an urgency to go out. It was colder than usual, so I dressed in layers. My parents had already left for work, so I wrote them a note to tell them not to worry—that I was fine and that I loved them. I knew it was an odd thing to write at the time, but it seemed right.”
    She paused, her somber gaze darting between Mackenna and myself as if daring us to contradict her. Mackenna offered her an encouraging smile. “Please don’t stress out about what you did. No one’s going to judge you. Everyone here’s been down the rabbit hole at least once.”
    The girl laughed in response. “I do feel like Alice right about now. What happened next was curious indeed. When I left my house, I walked until I reached Malagonlong Bridge, which crosses the Dumacaa River. It’s a historic landmark because it was built during the Spanish colonial era, but the stone arches are stained from age and overgrown with plants.
    “When I was a small child, my cousin told me that the ghosts of our ancestors, who were forced to build the bridge, still roamed the structure. So I always went out of my way to avoid it. But this morning, it called to me . . . It might have been the ghosts, or possibly the bridge itself. Either way, I felt compelled to cross.”
    Cheska stood, as if caught up in the moment. At full height, her dark head was level with my abdomen. Having no people of Filipino ethnicity in Doon, the closest person to her coloring was Sofia Rosetti. The girl’s skin was darker, her hair straighter, eyes more exotic in their almond shape than the Scotch-Italian girl from home, but like Sofia, her diminutive stature contained a brave spirit.
    “As I stepped onto the ancient stones, disembodied voices began to wail. I wanted to turn and run but I couldn’t move, except to walk forward. When I was about halfway across, the bridge began to shimmer with light. The wailing turned to thunder, and as the light took shape I realized I was not in the presence of ghosts but of angels. The light and noise grew with each step until I had to shut my eyes and cover my ears to continue.” The girl lifted her hands to her face in demonstration. “My body felt light, as if I were about to float way.
    “At some point, I must have dropped to my knees. I remember laying my face against the mossy stones. I’m not sure how long I stayed prostrate on the bridge—it felt like both hours and seconds. As if the laws of time and nature no longer applied.
    “Suddenly, the sensations stopped. When I looked about, I was kneeling on a grassy bank, facing an unfamiliar river and Malagonlong Bridge was nowhere to be seen. The air was much colder than in Tayabas. Although clearly not Wonderland, I knew immediately that something fantastical had happened. And that’s when Mrs. Fairshaw found me on the banks of the River Doon in Scotland.”
    Caledonia, who was nearly a full head taller than Cheska, stood and placed a matronly arm round the girl’s shoulders. “The poor, wee thing asked where she was, and I told her.”
    Cheska nodded. “I could scarcely believe it.”
    Stepping up behind us, Fiona said in a low voice not meant to be overheard by our new guest, “Despite her experience, she seems remarkably clear-witted.”
    Maybe a wee bit too clear . . . The soldier in me cautioned against accepting the girl blindly at her word. Squaring my shoulders, I leveled my gaze on the foreigner. “Does what happened scare