Disclaimer: Bridge to Terabithia belongs to Katherine Paterson, but I'm using Disney's actors as the kids.
It was late; all the guests had gone home and he knew he should be doing the same, but for whatever reason, Jess Aarons could not seem to pull himself away from his location.
And so there he stood, eyes on the work in front of him, his focus slightly off, as if he were staring beyond towards something only he could see. The work was his and the fact curbed his lips into a small, but proud smile. His family had even come today, Father and Mother having been driven into the city by the assisted living home May Belle had paid for.
Pretty May Belle was perhaps the biggest surprise of them all. Ellie and Brenda had come, of course, both with children and husbands and their happy dreams of white picket fences and handsome beaus having come true. Joyce Ann had followed suit as well, her stomach rounded by her second pregnancy, little Maura Leigh holding her papa's hand as they came to celebrate Jess's good fortune. It was May Belle who had chosen another course and now stood with them as proud and as beautiful as she had ever been, her slim figure smartly dressed in a woman's suit. May Belle the Attorney who had made enough money to support Mama when she'd gotten sick and Father when he'd grown just old enough that he couldn't take care of her by himself. May Belle who'd allowed him to follow his dreams even when Father had told him they were silly.
And so they had found themselves at the National Gallery that evening, each dressed in their finest attire to honour the Contemporary Art Exhibit that had reopened that night. Jess had stood the tallest of all, proud and firm beside the oil painting that had earned him such an honour. And that was where he remained, even when everyone had gone home and the curators were slowly closing down the museum, his eyes ever on the painting.
A young girl and boy stood hand in hand before an intricate, massive gate. Their silhouettes glowed in the rising sun that shown upon them through the valley as it crested above an elaborate castle and its people, each drawn with a careful eye to detail. The fantastic world was beautiful, one that any child would have been proud to imagine, to rule. Only two pieces seemed out of place: the lopsided crown above the boy's head and the missing shadow of the girl.
Jess smiled briefly at his work and then closed his eyes for a moment. If he looked hard enough and opened his mind just right, he could see the young girl turn and smile at him, youthful laughter echoing in his head. 'You have done well, sire,' the voice sounded, delight in the exact tones she had used in their world.
He smiled again at the painting and turned away and left, his footsteps the only sound. His shadow disturbed the fall of the light and it glimmered briefly over a bronzed plaque.
"Terabithia"
Jesse Aarons
In honour and memory of Leslie Burke from whom I learned so much in so little time.