The Wayfaring Sisters

By Judie Gerber

Swept down a sinkhole into an unusual underworld, two pre-teen sisters, Georgie and Jojo, must reach the Station Platform thirteen levels above and catch a flight out before their memories, dreams, and precious drops of life are stolen by the cruel Quenchless Thirster who wants to be fully alive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Judie Gerber
• Release date: May 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9780978788193

Book preview

Chapter One

Pandora’s Box Implodes

In cottage country in northern Canada,  there’s a secretly magical place where luxurious green forest and charming cabins edge the shores of a chain of three lakes. The two large lakes are linked by narrow channels on opposite sides of the small lake between them.

The steel traffic and foot bridge crossing over the easternmost channel glints in the humid summer afternoon. At one end of it, a wooden sign has an arrow pointing east to  CEDARPOINT LAKE.  Another arrow aims west across LITTLE LOON LAKE, to beyond the fairytale cottage on the point, to the restless waters and sole island of  BIG LOON LAKE.

Midway along the bridge’s pedestrian sidewalk, emaciated, eleven-year-old girl, Georgie Jubilee, stands stiffly in a long-sleeve blouse over her tank top and shorts. She shifts her guilty gaze left, right, and all around. There’s no boat, car, or pedestrian traffic in sight. Georgie lowers her troubled eyes to the freshly-painted words — JOJO & GEORGIE WERE HERE — on a support pillar below a whimsical sea monster image.

Now you. Come on, Jojo coaxes, rising to her feet with a can of spray paint in hand. Twenty pounds heavier and six inches taller than her undernourished younger sister, Jojo offers the can to Georgie. Do you like my version of Nessie?

Adorbs.

You used to be fun, Jojo taunts.

Ignoring the can, Georgie stares with trepidation at her innocent sister clad in a cute sundress and sports sandals.

I’ll be the lookout now, Jojo insists.

Georgie closes her eyes, opens them, and studies her impatient sister intensely.

What’s your deal? Jojo prods.

Her hand trembling slightly, Georgie retrieves a bold black marker from her shorts pocket and kneels down on the walkway. She writes PULCHRITUDINOUS above Jojo’s name, and then joins the two words with an arrow. Georgie smiles slyly.

Jojo raises her eyebrows quizzically.

It means beautiful, Georgie volunteers.

You sure? Jojo is definitely suspicious.

Georgie nods.  Jojo rolls her eyes. Georgie shrugs. It’s been a rainy summer, and we ran out of old National Geographics and Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazines. The dictionary was the only thing left to read at the cottage.

Jojo smirks. I love those Ripley’s Believe It Or Not Story Digests from the 1970s.

There’s nothing like reading in the boathouse loft during a storm with the front doors open.

Watching the lightning over the lake, Jojo affirms.

A float plane flies low overhead. The sisters look up. Three graceful loons fly alongside it. One loon beside each wing. One loon follows behind. The plane flies over Little Loon Lake, makes a nice landing on Big Loon Lake, and then putters toward the island.

I can’t wait to fly, Georgie professes.

I want wings, Jojo gushes.

Pure flight in a glider airplane. Georgie turns to her sister enviously. You’re lucky. You can solo in a glider in two years. I won’t be fourteen for another three.

I’ll wait for you, Jojo promises. Then when we’re sixteen, we’ll both go for our glider pilot’s licenses at the same time.

Georgie smiles hopefully as the girls fist-bump.

What about the fear of heights you’ve developed in the past year and  a half? Jojo queries.

Georgie turns away. Stone-faced.

And you never bake anymore, Jojo adds. What happened to your sweet tooth?

Avoiding her sister’s expectant eyes, Georgie whispers, You know.

They watch the float plane dock in a private cove on the island. The pilot steps out and hurries to the path into the ring of trees around the isle’s perimeter. The only structure visible above the leafy canopy is the top deck of a wooden observation tower.

Wonder what the story is behind the recluse, Jojo muses. For two years now...

Georgie collects two stones from the walkway and gives one to Jojo. She clasps the other in her hand and closes her eyes. Let’s each make a really big, fat, juicy, amazing wish.

Jojo closes her eyes, stands quiet for three seconds, then peeks at her sister’s comically serious face. Giggling, she elbows Georgie.

Georgie opens her eyes. She seems surprised to see her sis still there. I’m ready.

The sisters ceremoniously toss their pebbles into the channel below. They watch them hit the water and send out ripples.

I met Wesley Boone, Georgie divulges.

You met the hermit-pilot? Jojo is aghast. When?

Last summer.

You didn’t tell me? You’ve got to tell me stuff like that!

It’s a secret. For now, Georgie teases. But I will tell you later.  Promise.

Not fair, Jojo pouts.

You still owe me two secrets, Georgie asserts. Now you only owe me one.

Jojo nods. She can’t argue with that.

The secret is so very cool that I can only tell it in a whisper in the treehouse with the shutters closed, Georgie clarifies.

Jojo laughs. Georgie does, too. Then they skip together to the end of the bridge walkway and onto paved CEDARPOINT ROAD past the twelve snug cottages along the lakefront at CEDARPOINT LAKE CABIN RENTALS. On the opposite side of the road is a row of older homes with trim yards where a few of the year-round local residents live.

Maybe we’ll see the golden fox today, Georgie smiles.

Jojo nods. I’ve seen her hang out at the cemetery—

Georgie stumbles. She looks about to faint. She stops, then bends down with her hands on her knees and her head lowered like she’s going to puke. Her breath is labored and heavy.

Jojo gently places  a hand on Georgie’s back, then lays her other hand on Georgie’s chest. Your heart is going way too fast. Calm down, Georgie, Jojo offers softly. I’m here.

Georgie’s breathing slowly normalizes. Her flushed face relaxes. She stands upright with her hands over her belly. I’m fine now, she fake smiles. It’s just the collywobbles.

Jojo narrows her eyes. No. It’s not just a stomach ache. You’re not fine. Not at all. Your blood sugar is probably too low because you don’t eat enough. Any idea how hard anorexia is on your heart? You’ve been starving yourself for too long. We’re stopping at the store on the way home. That’s that.

Whatever, Miss Bossy, Georgie frowns.

I’ve always got your back, Lil-Sis, Jojo assures her.

They continue walking the short distance to the Tingoldsby Store, a bungalow garnished with colorful signage at the T-intersection where TINGOLDSBY ROAD branches off past the cemetery, which lies diagonal from the store across the intersection.

The bungalow’s front half is dedicated to the store. The owner’s living quarters are the back half. The sign above the storefront’s big picture window reads: PANDORA’S BOX. In the window display, there’s a little bit of everything a cottager may need from home-baked muffins and penny candy to sunscreen and frisbees. Behind the items, the cashier stands at the register.

Georgie and Jojo quickly step back to the parking area and out of sight of the front window.

What’s she doing here? Georgie fake vomits. Pandora said that Pearl wouldn’t be filling in  anymore.

Pandora didn’t have enough guts to stand up to her second cousin, Jojo surmises. Again.

I’m not going in there. Georgie is adamant.

You’ve got to, Jojo protests. You know I can’t. She hates me and all my city-idiot friends, who come and go with their busy lives.

She’s an unperson who calls us all Citidiots, Georgie argues.

Jojo’s eyes narrow with surprising anger. Remember that funeral last summer? When she spread mean lies about the deceased, complained about all the guests and the parking situation, all the damn flowers, and the ungodly headstone? In  a raspy, mimicking voice, Jojo  banters, ’A marble lamb or a cross on top would’ve sufficed.’

She said it was a ‘blasphemous headstone,’ Georgie corrects her.

She always tries to suck the life out of everything and everyone, Jojo comments.

There’s definitely something ugsome about her, Georgie commiserates.

Jojo holds up a quarter. This is all I got. She presses the quarter into Georgie’s hand. You’re going in. I need a popsicle. Badly. I’m feeling woozy too. And you won’t make it home without a spoonful of sugar.

No way. She’s a waggish-taradiddle-ballyrag-piffle—

Sometimes I get annoyed with your perissology moods, Jojo groans.

Overly wordy. Good one, Georgie grins. I’ll stop. Just for you.

Much appreciated, Jojo chimes as she steps backwards toward the T-intersection. I’ll have chocolate.

Georgie throws the quarter at Jojo. "I’ll have coconut or