The If Bridge

By S.J. Armato

When a severely injured Cooper Hawk begs a group of vacationing school kids for help, they find themselves drawn into a fierce battle being waged among the forest inhabitants for control of the ancient and powerful If Bridge, which has the power to undo the past.
What starts out as a pleasant little summer vacation for Maggie and her friends, Molly and Tim, becomes an extraordinary adventure that will forever transform their lives. These three best buddies unexpectedly find themselves thrust into the magical world of a brilliant sorceress, a mysterious bridge, and talking animals. Manny, an old farmhand, Molly’s two spinster aunts, and her parents fight side-by-side with the three young friends in their struggle against the Wolf, the Vulture, and the Snake, who want to destroy the If Bridge. The three human friends join the Deer, the Bear, and the Hawk in their battle to prevent its destruction. Ultimately, they all find themselves fighting the age-old battle of good versus evil, defending a world of friendship and noble sacrifice against one of greed and treachery.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S.J. Armato
• Release date: Nov 26, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465765451

S.J. Armato

After 35 years of working at a large publishing company, I went back to college to train for my second career. I now work as an Occupational Therapy Assistant, providing services to special needs school children. I live in New York State with my wife, three cats named Stinky, Cali, and Tippy, and a loopy black Lab named Molly. I am very proud of my two grown kids, my daughter-in-law, and my two amazing grandchildren. I am currently working on my fourth novel.

Book preview

The If Bridge

The Legendary

Adventures of

Maggie Golden

S.J. Armato

Copyright © Sal J. Armato 2009

Book cover and interior beautifully

designed by Tina Ann Armato

Nit-picking and proofreading

kindly provided by Jessica Armato

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Tina,

my love, for supporting me

when I found I needed to

do more with my life.

Disclaimer

Any similarities between

the characters in this book

and persons, living or dead,

is really kind of spooky.

No animals were harmed

in the writing of this book.

Fate

You must race

the rising sun

for the deed

to be undone.

For if you dare

to hesitate

the die is cast

as is your fate.

—Orendi Wane

Chapter One

Maggie Golden spent this rainy summer day looking out her bedroom window. The window faced the road that led into town, and cars and trucks zoomed by day and night. Beyond this road lay a shimmering lake with more than a few geese bobbing lazily about. Sometimes all you could see of these birds were their tails pointing skyward as they fished for their supper. And beyond this idyllic lake stood Halfway Mountain, named so because people said standing on its peak you were halfway to heaven. All in all, not too shabby a view.

Maggie wondered, watching the traffic, where all these people were going? Where all these people were coming from? Who were all these people anyway? Then, in the hopes of adding a little excitement, she started to make up little adventures about them… like what if that driver in the red sports car was a beautiful lady spy, and the driver of the dark blue sedan following her was a handsome FBI agent hot on her trail. He would catch her, their eyes would meet, they would fall in love and… Hold it. Back up. Lame story. Who cares, she thought, I have got to find something better to do.

Basically, Maggie was bored. Really, really bored. Her best friend Molly Morgan had broken her foot and was out of commission for a while. It had been a stupid accident that Maggie had played a part in. Played a leading role in, some might say. But no one could get a straight story from the girls as to what actually happened. All anyone could piece together was that it involved a Karate round-house kick, Molly's dog Bernie (who is a yellow lab), and a brick. And, well, of course, a broken foot. Anyway, the Morgans weren’t too happy with Maggie at the moment, so she kept her distance. This was day five and counting that Maggie had not seen or talked to her best friend. There was nothing to do.

She propped her head up between her hands, which squashed her face and gave her fish lips. She admired herself in the window's reflection. Then she went back to watching traffic. Since it was a nasty, rainy day, the drivers had their headlights on. Maggie found she could cross her eyes and the lights would all blur into one continuous stream.

Then something caught her attention. It moved slowly, slowly across the road. It stopped, then it moved again. It looked like a rock. A rock? No, rocks don’t move. It was a turtle. And apparently a turtle with a death wish, because this one was moving straight into the flow of a long line of turtle mashing machines barreling down the road. Maggie held her breath. Maggie closed her eyes. Maggie opened one eye. Maggie opened both eyes. Damn, she said, as she ran from her room, flew down a flight of stairs, and ran out the front door as her mother called after her to Put your jacket on if you’re going out, and why are you going out on such a miserable day anyway?

Then suddenly the world went into slo-mo. The rain almost pausing. The traffic almost stopping. Her heart barely beating. And the turtle standing road-kill still. But it wasn’t road-kill. Not yet anyway. Not if she got to it in time. So she ran. Ran as fast as she could, and while running she bent low and scooped the turtle up in both her hands and continued running past both lanes of traffic. She stopped, breathing heavily, just before the lake, looked down at the turtle and smiled. Smiled, at least, until it bit her. Then she yelped and dropped it on the grass where it hid in its shell for a moment, finally popped its head and feet out, stared right at her, and started moving slowly towards the bushes. You’re welcome, she said as she rubbed her sore finger. And that is when she first met him.

He was about her age, 12 or so. Thin with dark hair that defied gravity, and he wore glasses—unusually large plastic frame glasses—which magnified his eyes. He wore a T-shirt and shorts, had bandages on both knees, and his sneakers were untied with the laces flopping into a puddle. And, uh, well, he had an umbrella hat on his head. One of those geeky things you can find at a dollar store. They were so cheap because no one would be caught dead wearing one. Well, this guy was caught live. Maggie couldn’t keep her eyes off it.

How’s the finger? said umbrella head. These turtles can get mean when they’re scared. This one I call Lord B-B-Byron. He looked down as he spoke.

Lord Byron? That’s your turtle? Maggie said, somewhat dismayed. So exactly why are you letting him play in traffic? Trying to thin out the turtle population?

No, he just got away. I was l-l-looking for worms, he stammered, still looking down. Byron and Shakespeare love worms, s-s-so I always look for some when it’s raining. They come to the surface when it rains and I can…

He stopped talking as he heard the soft crunch of footsteps on gravel. And as he looked up he saw Maggie walking away.

Hey, that’s really pretty rude, you know. Just w-w-walking away while someone is talking to you. At the very least you could say goodbye or s-s-something.

Yeah, well, goodbye or something then, tent head, said Maggie, as she ran back across the street, up the steps, and into her house. She stood there dripping for a moment, until she felt her mother’s burning stare. Then she braced herself for the barrage of words to come. But she was wrong. All her mother said was Go and dry yourself before you catch cold. And mop up that hallway before somebody slips and breaks their neck. And next time would you please take your jacket and a hat.

Then her mother walked away, muttering to herself and shaking her head. Maggie thought she heard her mother say, I wonder if I could trade her in for a nice quiet lap cat?

*****

Later, back up in her room, with a towel wrapped around her head, Maggie looked out of her window again. She was just in time to see that strange boy walking away… with his turtle tucked under his arm. It was raining harder now, and he had taken off his looney hat and was using it to shield Byron from the rain. He was walking against the wind, balancing his turtle, his jar of worms and his umbrella hat. Maggie couldn’t help but smile.

Chapter Two

Light can play tricks on the eyes, but so can the dark. Shadows loom larger than real life, so innocent branches can appear as monstrous arms reaching out to take hold of you. Even closing your eyes may not help, as swirling patterns and shifting shapes still appear on the movie screen behind your eyelids. And they can take on ominous forms. Try it. Weird, huh?

This is how Maggie spent the late evening hours as she stared out her window. Trying hard to spook herself. It was the latest in her I need to find something to do games. But this one had taken on a life of its own. Several times she gasped aloud as an imagined hand clawed at the air beside her, sending a chill down her spine. Close call. They may be fast, but I’m faster, she thought. Try as she might, however, she was still anxious. It was: shadows 3, Maggie 0.

But there was something moving out there. Must be a wood chuck or a deer or a skunk… or A DEMON. No, wait, there are no such things as demons. Except maybe for Billy Boomer, but that’s a whole other story.

Then, strangely, Maggie sort of split in two and started having a conversation with herself.

What time is it?

10:37.

Hey, wait.

Wait what?

Who is that?

It’s him.

You’ve got to be kidding me!

No, I’m not. It’s him.

Yes, it was him. (We don’t know his name yet, but be patient, I’ll get to it). It was the strange boy Maggie had met earlier in the day. He had a flashlight and appeared to be searching the ground for something. Mercifully, he wasn’t wearing his hat. But then again it had stopped raining. Suddenly, he disappeared into the brush towards the lake. Maggie waited for him to reappear.

And Maggie waited. And waited. And waited. She was getting edgy. It was now 10:53.

Where the heck did he go, she whispered to herself. It’s awfully creepy late at night by the lake. Actually, she had never been to the lake late at night. Seemed pointless. Her window had a better view.

Now, you have to understand something about Maggie. If she saw something wrong, she had to make it right. Saw something broken, she had to fix it. Saw a boy vanish… well, she had to find him.

So she snuck down the stairs, stepped carefully to the right of the squeaky boards, and after grabbing her jacket, went out the front door, closing it carefully behind her, but making sure it was unlocked so she could sneak back in later. And as she stepped outside, one lone car came cruising by, then quickly faded into the distance. Not much traffic this time of the night.

But the car had temporarily lit the road, and now it had been plunged back into darkness. Wow, I can’t see a thing, thought Maggie. I should go back and get a flashlight. But then she heard someone crying out. Ugh, uh, no, get away from me, ahhh.

Maggie froze. What was she getting herself into anyway? She didn’t even really know this kid. She had just met him once. She didn’t even know his name. No, wait, someone needed help and she was the only one here. She just had to help. It was the right thing to do. Sometimes it stinks having a conscience.

And sometimes it stinks when you come face to face with a skunk.

There they were. The skunk to her left, and a sobbing and somewhat smelly boy sitting on the ground to her right. Well, looks like