Pssst.” The voice is so faint that Jason assumes it’s a trick of the breeze. He sits cross-legged under a birch tree, leaning against the bark. “Maybe it’s a bee,” he wonders out loud, dismissing it.
“Pssst,” the voice repeats. “Are you deaf or something?”
Jason sits bolt upright, his eyes darting here and there. There is no one except for a robin that ignores him from an upper branch. Another voice, this time clearer and feminine remarks, “He’s lost in thoughts of Bessie.”
Jumping up in panic, Jason shouts, “Who’s talking to me? Show yourself.”
Two small voices burst into fits of giggles. “Show yourself,” they mock him. “He says we must show ourselves.” The male of the two commands, “Well, then, sit down, Jason lad.”
Looking around to see if anyone is observing, the young man eventua
