Bridge to Terabithia

by Katherine Paterson

“You never know ahead of time what something’s really going to be like.”

“You gotta believe the Bible, Leslie.” “Why?” It was a genuine question. Leslie wasn’t being smarty.

He hardly slept the rest of the night, listening to the horrid rain and knowing that no matter how high the creek came, Leslie would still want to cross it.

That’s got to be the world’s ugliest kid, he thought, looking her over with genuine affection.

This one perfect day of his life was worth anything he had to pay.

Cremated. Something clicked inside Jess’s head. That meant Leslie was gone. Turned to ashes. He would never see her again. Not even dead. Never. How could they dare? Leslie belonged to him. More to him than anyone in the world. No one had even asked him. No one had even told him. And now he was never going to see her again, and all they could do was cry.

“When is the next bridge, Mommy?” David asked. “There aren’t any more,” I told him. “We’re almost at Uncle Arthur’s house now.” “Just one more bridge, Mommy, please, just one more bridge,” he said, believing in his three-year-old heart that mothers can do anything, including instant bridge-building.