Author's Notes: Okay, first I just want to thank all of you who gave reviews this past week. Not only were they encouraging, but they helped me by not criticizing my decision to include a spanking scene. I was worried that people would be upset by my choice to write in detail something so potentially controversial and I would like to thank you all for your understanding.

I really thought the original story of Bridge to Terabithia (both the movie and the book) lacked a proper confrontation between Jess' father and his best friend. In both versions, the two of them were the biggest influences in Jess' life and their conflicting viewpoints were a recipe for conflict. In the book, this conflict was minimal, in the movie non-existent. Confrontation being the lifeblood of all great stories, I had to include a part where Jack shows Leslie who is really in charge. Mind you, I wouldn't have even thought to get away with it if Leslie's parents were still in the picture, but seeing as they're out of the way, Jack was free to take Leslie over his knee.

Now that she knows whose in charge, Leslie will be more careful, but you're mistaken if you think she won't be mischievous. It's her nature to seek adventure. Don't worry about her; she won't stop being herself just because she got hurt.

I would also like to point out that although it's not yet the sixteenth, it's still the second Friday of February which makes this the third year since Bridge to Terabithia hit theaters. In the movieverse, this is the anniversary of both Leslie's birth and her death.

On behalf of all of us fans, I would just like to say: Happy anniversary, Leslie.

The New Life

a novel by Mark Robert Whitten

Chapter 7

Leslie tackled him. Hard.

Jess felt himself fall, and then the impact of his back slamming into the ground blasted away his breath. Leslie sprawled atop him, her red face hovering above his.

"I'll kill you!" she shouted.

"You can't kill me," Jess laughed, "I'm your brother!"

"Okay, no killing." She pulled back and punched his shoulder. "Just a lot of bruising!"

Jess wrenched her to the side and as she toppled, he rolled over her. Laughing, she kept the tumbling momentum going and soon they were both rolling across the ground, trying desperately to pin each other. Their playful wrestling match got the two of them covered with dirt but they kept it up, not caring. Eventually Mother returned from the river to find them playing and had to come and break them up. Neither Leslie nor Jess was really angry with each other; their playful tumbling was just a bit of fun. Mother, of course, was not amused and had taken her hand to Leslie's backside. She jumped with a shriek and Jess laughed until he received a similar smack.

They both stood there, then, rubbing their bottoms and feeling decidedly foolish. Mother huffed her displeasure.

"I can't believe you two are mucking about when there are chores to be done. Get to work," she scolded them, "and then to the pond to bathe. You won't want to be looking like that when father comes home."

They shared a frightened look. Neither of them wanted to be caught like that and they both promised to have their chores done on time so they could bathe and change their clothes before father returned.

The work was difficult, but enjoyable, as it always was with Leslie. They took turns playing games about who could get the most done and by the time the sun was setting, both were seated at the table, clean and fresh. Neither wanted a repeat performance of their discipline session. Jess spent the rest of the evening thinking about their bath.

They took it in the pond, since the only other place to bathe was the river. The river was more than a quarter of a mile wide, but no more than knee-deep in any one place and the current was always so docile that children of the nearby town swam often and without fear. The spring floods were the only time he ever saw the river swell to deeper levels.

The family pond was much more secluded; some old maple trees screened it from view, affording them some rare privacy.

Jess stood at the shore, shifting uncomfortably as Leslie did the same. Neither was entirely comfortable with bathing together. They ate, slept and played together, but they did it all with their clothes on. It was another matter to be naked. He cleared his throat and tried to ask which one of them should go first. Leslie sighed into the silence, cutting off his question. She rolled her eyes as she slipped off her vest. "This is ridiculous." She unbuttoned her shirt. "We're friends, Jess. And we're already like brother and sister." He blushed as she let her filthy shirt slip to the ground. "And we don't want to get into any more trouble, right?"

He nodded, his eyes locked to his filthy feet. He heard her slip off her trousers and toss them aside. "There," she declared. "I'm naked."

Jess didn't look up. He didn't want to deal with this. Leslie was family, but she was still a girl he had only known for about a week. Their baths were usually separate sessions with the wash basin and a cloth but they were out of time now. They both stank of sweat and manure from their chores and a simple cloth scrubbing wouldn't do. Jess felt his face heating. As much as he wanted to get clean, Jess didn't want to do it in front of a girl. Leslie playfully shoved his shoulder, jostling him out of his stupor.

Jess stared into her bluish-green eyes. His eyes flicked down, involuntarily, as if knowing what was there made it impossible not to look. He saw her bare form, not unlike his own. Underneath the thin layer of grime was the fairest skin he had ever beheld. It seemed as white as the clouds. Leslie made no move to cover her bareness, though he was almost certain she would. His heart pounded against his chest as he glanced all the way down her scrawny legs to her bare feet and after a moment, Jess almost laughed. He was being foolish. Leslie was just a girl, a girl he knew better than anyone. He had seen his sisters naked, all of them from the time he could walk. He was even required to give May Belle an occasional bath. There was nothing different about Leslie.

He looked back up to see her dirt-covered face glowing bright red. She grinned sheepishly and rolled her eyes. "I've never been naked while out-of-doors…or in front of a boy." He nodded that he understood. She frowned. "Aren't you going to…?"

"Oh, right." He had forgotten about his part. As he began fumbling with the buttons, Leslie helped him undress. His face heated as he slipped off his shirt. Leslie, in spite of her earlier words, turned her back to him when he pulled down his pants. She giggled as he tossed them into the pile. Jess' eyes fell on Leslie's now-bare behind, noting that the red marks from her whipping had almost faded.

She wouldn't turn to him, so he thought about tapping her shoulder when Brenda's voice cut through the air, distracting him. "Well, well, how cute!"

Leslie squealed and ducked behind Jess as they watched her approach. She clearly didn't feel comfortable around Brenda without her clothes. Brenda laughed derisively and tossed them a bar of soap. Jess caught it and glared at his sister as she sneered. "Mother says to quit playing around and finish bathing or father will have your hides."

Jess passed the soap back to Leslie and sighed. They had a job to do and as Leslie scratched her filthy blonde head, he slipped around her and made his way to the water's edge. Brenda grumbled about them being too modest when they didn't have anything to be modest about, while Leslie slipped over to the grassy bank and knelt down.

She reached out and skimmed the surface of the water. "Ooh," she complained with a shiver. "That's cold."

Jess kept an eye to Brenda. Her arms folded across her chest, as she huffed an impatient sigh. "Well, I'm sorry, princess, but we didn't have time to heat up your bath." A wicked grin stole onto her face. "But it's not so bad… once you get in."

Jess watched as Brenda slipped up behind Leslie and stood on one foot. She placed the other a few inches from her exposed behind. Jess eyes went wide. Leslie didn't notice as she dipped her hand into the water to check the temperature again. Jess could barely shout a warning as Brenda thrust her leg forward, driving her foot into Leslie's bottom, sending her sprawling face-first into the pond with a shriek.

As she disappeared beneath the inky surface, Jess held his breath. A moment later, she burst up out of the water, coughing and choking, trying desperately to catch her breath.

"Are you okay?" Jess managed. He was holding onto his laughter as best he could. Leslie was clean of most of the dirt, her face dripping wet as she glared up at a laughing Brenda.

"Are you crazy?" she coughed, "I could've drowned!"

That did it. Jess clutched his sides as he let a big belly laugh roll out of him. He laughed so hard it hurt. He stood there howling until he was dizzy. He just couldn't help himself. Leslie swam over to the shore as she muttered about what a crazy family she'd become a part of. Shivering, her wet hair plastered darkly across her scalp, she reached the grassy sore and looked up at him. Jess managed to control his muffled giggles long enough to extend a hand to help her back out. Her slender fingers snatched his wrist instead and, to his horror, Leslie pulled back with all her might. His feet left the bank as he toppled over her head and into the pond.

As his bare body smacked the solid surface of the water, Jess felt the jab of a thousand needles of ice piercing his flesh. It was colder than he imagined and he had expected the coldest bath ever. He froze so much in that instant he couldn't breathe. Underwater as he was, he thought it the only bit of good fortune. His feet found the bottom and he launched himself up. Dim afternoon light greeted him as he breached the surface, sucking in a desperate gasp, the numbness just beginning to settle through his body.

Leslie was nearby, staring at him, her arms folded, with a look of smug triumph plastered across her dripping face. "What's wrong?" she asked in her prissiest voice, "Is the water too cold for you, Master Aarons?"

He sent a splash of water into her face. She shrieked and splashed him back. They spent another minute or two laughing and playfully splashing each other. Jess felt something strike his head. It landed in the water with a dull smack. As it floated by, he snatched it up. It was the bar of soap. Brenda was still waiting on the bank of the pond. He knew she had thrown it at him deliberately and he considered pulling her in the same way as Leslie had done to him. He knew she would twist his ear off, before telling father and adding a whipping, so he resigned himself to scrubbing down with the soap and passing it to Leslie before dipping himself to wash it off again.

When they were finished, Leslie climbed out of the water first, saying it was only fair, since she had been in the longest. Jess didn't mind, as it gave him a chance to observe her bottom. He noticed that the redness he had at first noticed had vanished from her flesh and as he rubbed his own bottom, he realized he was better for having bathed in the cool water.

Jess wished they had thought of soaking their bottoms before to cool away the sting.

Brenda rushed them through getting dressed and they were all dry and ready for supper before the sun went down. Their hair was slicked back and combed neatly. Jess liked how dark the water made Leslie's hair look. It made her seem more like the other girls of the Aarons family, more like she belonged with them. As they sat at the table, listening to the cook-fire crackling behind them, Jess shared a private look with his new sister.

They both giggled. Jess knew she was thinking the same as he: It was the most interesting bath either of them ever had.

*****

Over the course of the next month "Leslie Aarons" became a trusted member of the Aarons family. She never let her hair grow past her jaw line, using mother's scissors to trim it whenever it began to brush against her neck. Jess didn't understand her reason for keeping her hair short, but after so many weeks of working beside her, he had learned to stop questioning. Leslie was unusual; that was just her way. Even the way she dressed seemed a mystery. She never wore a dress, although mother often reminded her that she would put one together for her if she liked. Leslie always politely refused, saying she favored simple woolen trousers for weeding the garden and collecting eggs. Brenda and Ellie, who had always worn dresses, thought it very weird that she favored pants and had taken to calling her "Little Miss Weird-Pants." Despite mother's objections, the name stuck. Jess had a few names for them, but he never voiced them, preferring to insist that they just call his friend by her chosen title, "Miss Leslie Aarons."

In spite of the commotion, clothing wasn't really an issue for them; Jess and Leslie were about the same size and found they could wear each others clothes without always knowing it. Eventually Leslie took to stitching swirling designs into her pant-legs to mark them as her own. The designs did make her pants seem more girlish but Brenda and Ellie still made fun of "Little Miss Weird-Pants." Such things never seemed to hurt Leslie and even though her boyish appearance provided many opportunities for name-calling, she would always just shrug and find something nice to say about her tormentors. Jess couldn't be sure, but he began to think that he knew why Leslie smiled whenever they teased her.

Jess suspected the teasing made her feel even more like family.

As the weeks passed, Jess found that Leslie hadn't forgotten her promise to teach him how to read. He listened intently as she explained the nature of the craft. While they were pulling weeds, Leslie would take up a stick and draw symbols in the dirt which, to Jess, looked as meaningless as the scratching left by the chickens. Leslie assured him they meant something. Jess watched her hand move slowly, smoothly carving out a new shape each time. She drew various forms and as she pointed to a symbol and spoke its name, he repeated it. After a while, Jess had learned to identify various letters and could even read and write whole sentences. He marveled at the wonder of his new power; it almost seemed like some sort of magic. Leslie assured him it was not, and that anyone could learn to read if they really wanted. She also told him that he was her best student and that he should be proud of how far he had come in such a short while. His final test came when she handed him the book that Valerie had given them and asked him to read it. He tried, but often times Leslie had to correct some pronunciation or phrase and he would grow frustrated. She told him he was doing well and to keep trying. He decided it would be best if they took a break and just talked for a while.

Jess always enjoyed talking with Leslie. Some of the best times they ever had were just sitting around the garden, or near the pond, talking. They spoke of many things, from the weather and animals, to their favorite games and songs and their least favorite chores.

They never talked about Valerie or her mother. Their extended trips into the woods remained their little secret. They visited several times a week, sneaking off after chores to drink ginger tea with them while they shared stories. Mrs. Vanderholt's tales rivaled even Leslie's and Jess had a hard time deciding whose stories he favored. Jess finally decided he liked them both.

The Vanderholts were well-versed in herb-lore and Leslie and Jess spent much of their time learning about various herbs. Leslie was a good student, learning quickly the names of cooking herbs and taking samples home to add to the family meals. Mother was pleased by the free spices. There were even some sweet-smelling herbs that when added to the cookfire, released a pleasant scent that combated the stench of the animals. Others they tied to the wattle pens and the walls of the privy. Jess savored the scents and even helped Leslie plant a few herbs in the garden for future use. Mistress Vanderholt was pleased to hear how they had used the gifts and taught Leslie and Jess even more about plants and mushrooms, pointing out which were poisonous, which were tasty and which were just pretty. Jess found he loved tromping through the woods gathering mushrooms, nuts and berries and the occasional wild apples. All that they collected helped to make the treats Mistress Vanderholt cooked for them taste even better.

Even though most of the family wasn't interested in what they did, May Belle often begged to come along on their excursions. Jess simply told her she couldn't keep up and often threatened to tell her secrets to everyone if she tried to follow. Leslie never really insisted that he let her come along and that made him feel even more comfortable. Leslie often tried to console May Belle by playing with her on occasion, telling her stories and surprising her with treats gifted from Mistress Vanderholt.

It seemed that Leslie had become the big sister May Belle always wanted. Mother was impressed with her politeness, chiding everyone that they could learn from her example. She always got her chores done on time without being asked and that pleased father well enough—she was rarely in trouble and most often her correction was a firm swat on her bottom to send her scurrying to her chores or to remind her of things she had neglected.

After a time, everyone took a liking to her—except Brenda, but she didn't like anyone anyway. She would often complain about Leslie, saying it was bad enough having Jess around without his "little woman" crowding the table. Jess thought it was because Leslie made her look bad in front of mother. Brenda was lazy, and he guessed having Leslie's example call attention to her laziness made her uncomfortably conspicuous.

The previous week mother had been after her about caring for the animals—a job Brenda despised—and when she tried to beg off, Leslie volunteered. Brenda gave her a dirty look which Leslie would only answer with a heart-warming smile and a gentle wave of her hand. Jess found it confounding that Leslie could be nice to people who were mean to her. It didn't make sense. He thought for sure Leslie would say something, but she just got to work instead. Jess sighed. He didn't think he would ever understand her.

As he joined her in the barn area of their long house, Jess couldn't help but notice her beaming grin, even hidden as it was beneath the red kerchief she wrapped over her nose. Jess was pleased that she had figured out a way to lessen the smell of the animals and by adding a few sweet-smelling herbs to their masks they were able to work without being bothered much at all.

Leslie seemed to have an answer for all of life's little problems. At times she displayed the good sense, even wisdom, of someone many times her age. Other times, like many of the boys her age, she seemed interested in nothing as much as mischief. She was the kind of person who wore a smile even when she wasn't up to something, which made the times she planned for trouble even harder to detect. Jess wondered how mother couldn't see through her pleasant mask to the real person underneath. For most of his life, Jess believed his mother a mind-reader of inscrutable power; she always seemed to know what he was thinking about misbehaving. Since Leslie came, he had begun wondering if his mother's power wasn't somehow broken or maybe that Leslie had a greater power to deceive her. Leslie was polite by nature, never treating anyone with disrespect and her kindness wasn't a trick, like Brenda's often was; it was just her nature but in spite of her genuine warmth Leslie's mind was always cooking up some new tricks to play. Leslie never meant any harm but Jess was certain that if mother could ever peer into her mind and see how full of mischief she really was, she would have thrown Leslie out on her scrawny bottom.

As he watched her work, Jess couldn't help but admire Leslie's way with animals. She handled them the way she handled people: with kindness and respect. Jess had never thought of animals needing respect, but then, nobody had ever thought to give him any either. Jess smiled at his memory of when he taught Leslie to milk the family cow. He had told her how to do it properly so she wouldn't waste milk. He also warned her against drinking any of it, as raw milk could make one sick; it had to be made into hard cheese or butter before it would be safe.

Afterwards, mother thanked them for helping out and sent them out to play. Brenda glared and tried to trip up Leslie but she held her feet and stumbled into a run, challenging Jess to keep up as she sped out the door. Jess promised to help her get even with Brenda someday.

"I don't think mother would like that," she told him.

Jess sighed. "I guess not."

Jess was never put off by the way Leslie spoke so casually about his family. Occasionally, when they were having one of their private conversations, Leslie would refer to Jess' mother as simply "mother." Leslie would always laugh when he pointed it out. As she blushed, she corrected herself, but Jess liked the way she slipped. It seemed right that Leslie thought of Jess' mother as her own; it made the two of them more like siblings. Jess told mother, of course, and she beamed when she heard, making him promise not to tell Leslie that he told. Jess kept his promise, afraid that if she knew he told, it would embarrass his friend and ruin the trust they had built.

The end of the first month brought Jess a rare opportunity: Jess got to see Leslie work a task at which she wasn't immediately perfect. The river trout had been biting and father brought up a whole string of fresh fish for supper. He immediately set to work cleaning them on the old ash table in the backyard. Leslie asked if she might join him and before father could tell her otherwise, she took up the spare knife and started in on a fish. Her technique was sloppy and father told her so, taking the knife in his hands and showing her the proper technique. She listened attentively and tried again.

At first, father stood behind her, fists on his hips, giving gruff corrections to her technique, but after a while, as he saw she could clean a fish without cutting herself, he trusted her to do it on her own, heading back into the house to rest. Jess wished he could learn like her, but father said he was "all thumbs" and wouldn't allow it. Jess remained a goodly distance away and watched Leslie work. When she looked up to wipe her forehead with the back of her arm, she noticed him watching. Smiling, she invited him to come over and help.

He immediately rushed to her side and started in on a fish, listening carefully as Leslie offered gentle instructions. Jess learned quickly and by suppertime, he had cleaned more than a few fish of his own. Leslie told him how proud she was and that somehow made the work seem even more rewarding. Father was pleased not to have to clean the fish himself anymore, allowing him time to attend to other things and that he could trust them both to do it right in his absence.

While he never said as much, Jess knew his father was proud of them both.

Leslie never failed to surprise Jess and her most exciting surprises often improved his life in ways he never imagined. The things she came up with were astounding—mostly because he had never thought of them himself. He remembered vividly the day she looked at him and told him that she meant to build a chicken coop. At first, Jess thought she was joking, but in no time at all she had drawn out a plan in the soft dirt and scrounged up some materials with which to build it. Jess didn't know where she obtained half the stuff she used but she always seemed to find it when they needed it. When he would ask where in the world she found a particular piece for their new work, she would simply shrug and tell him that she had "looked around and gotten lucky."

Jess didn't mind her secrets. He knew by now to trust her and for all he knew, she really did just "get lucky." The stuff she brought looked old and previously used so he figured she wasn't stealing anything, except maybe from scrap piles. No one cared if you saved them the trouble of hauling things away, but Leslie always dreamed up a story of how she stole it from a family of ogres or trolls and need him to help the next time.

The two of them worked hard, and within a week, they had a respectable place for the chickens to roost. Jess was proud of their work and pleased that he wouldn't have to hunt around for eggs anymore. Leslie lamented that fact as the only drawback, saying that they wouldn't be able to hunt for egg-treasures anymore. Jess just laughed.

It was around lunchtime when they walked into the longhouse, their wicker-woven baskets—the ones Leslie showed everyone how to make—loaded with eggs. Mother admitted they were easy to make and were a lot better for carrying the eggs—especially to market. Jess and Leslie talked quietly as they set down their baskets and went to wash up. Brenda and Ellie were arguing with mother about something and Jess lamented the fact that no one would praise their latest haul of eggs.

He slowed to a stop as he listened to their argument.

"But Mother," Brenda whined, "I need to look nice for the boys!"

Ellie nodded her eager agreement. "They have to notice us."

Mother heaved a despondent sigh. "We just don't have the money right now," she explained. She seemed on the verge of strained patience. "With the extra expenses..."

Jess felt a dark chill run through him. He knew that the "extra expenses" she spoke of were because of Leslie. Since Leslie had come into their lives, things had been better but they had also been more costly. Of course, Leslie always earned her keep and Jess suspected mother of using her as an excuse to justify not buying the girls any new material for dresses. Although he didn't look, Jess swore he could feel his big sister's eyes boring into the back of his head as he stood at the wash basin. He was the one who had brought Leslie home after all, and, to their minds, it was his fault they wouldn't get what they wanted.

He shuddered to think what they would do to repay him.

Not wanting to find out, Jess grabbed Leslie's wrist and tugged her along as he fled the house. As they made their way outside, Leslie's voice brought him out of his worry.

"What were they going on about?"

They made their way a bit from the house before he felt it was safe to talk. "Girl-stuff, mostly." Jess kicked a small stone, sending it off down the road and wishing it would take his sisters with it. "They want new dresses to wear to the festival."

Leslie hooked some hair behind an ear. "What festival?"

"You know—the festival." Seeing her brow furrow, he realized she didn't know. "Oh, right." He cleared his throat. "Well, it's uh, this event where everybody in Westwood and the surrounding villages gathers to talk, dance, and eat a lot of food. It's something they do every year." He shrugged. "It's no big deal."

"It sounds like a big deal to them," she said, gesturing back to the house.

He snorted a laugh. "Yeah, they think they'll find husbands and get married. Every year they get mother to make them new dresses and fix up their hair to look pretty." He snickered, casting a wary glance back at the house as he leaned toward her. "Pretty stupid."

Leslie wasn't amused. "I don't think it's stupid, Jess. I think it's nice."

He gaped at her. "You like that stuff?"

"Well, of course!" She leapt about then, spinning and jumping in the road. "I love to dance!"

He tried not to laugh as he watched her twisting and turning. The thought came to him that she should be wearing a dress and he could suppress a laugh no longer. As he let it out, she turned to a stop and stood staring. "What's so funny?"

He waved her question away, chuckling. "Nothing," he breathed, "Nothing, its just…"

"What?" She crossed her arms over her chest and slumped a little. "You don't like my dancing?"

He kept laughing as he tried to explain. "No, no, it's just that I was—well, I was just imagining you… dancing at the festival."

"And?"

He pointed at her legs. "You can't wear pants to the festival, Leslie!"

He shook his head in wonder at her ignorance as her face turned red. "Well, what am I supposed to do," she asked, "go to this festival naked or something?"

Jess blinked at her absurd comment. "No, you're supposed to wear a dress!" She still didn't get the joke. He gasped a breath as his laughter died away. "I-I just can't imagine you—in a dress." He guffawed. "That'd be a sight!"

Jess thought it would be like wearing a dress himself.

Leslie appeared a little lost as he giggled again. She almost looked hurt. Jess felt bad for her; he hadn't meant to hurt her feelings. He was just about to apologize when she stalked past him, toward the house. He chased her and almost reached her when she went through the entrance and called to his mother.

Jess felt a chill run through him. He didn't think she would ever tell on him; but then he had never seen a look on her face like the one she gave him a moment before. He heard her ask something, but he wasn't sure what it was, exactly. He eased his way into the room and saw Leslie standing before his mother. Mother straightened then and seemed to consider. Then she smiled. She patted Leslie on the shoulder and said, "Of course, dear."

Leslie thanked her and left without another word.

Brenda and Ellie followed her out, neither looking happy.

Jess eased towards his mother then and ventured a question, expecting the answer to be a swat on his behind. "What did she want?"

"Oh, she just wanted something to wear to the festival, that's all." Mother sat on her stool and went back to her spinning. "I told her I would make a nice dress for her."

Jess blinked. "You promised…" he stammered. "But I thought…"

Mother stopped her spinning and looked at him as if he were daft. "I promised her a dress." She frowned. "Is there a problem?"

It was a problem. If Leslie went to the festival, she might want to dance—with him!

He couldn't tell mother that of course. She would probably make him dance with her. He thought to take a different road.

"Well, I thought you said we didn't have any money for a new dress." He smiled at his cleverness and added, "You said Brenda and Ellie couldn't have one." It occurred to him that he could use their help right then, but they had followed Leslie out the door.

Mother frowned at him. "I said we didn't have the money to buy new material for dresses; Leslie has no objection to helping me make one for her to wear. We'll just make it out of one of your sister's old dresses, the ones they wore when they were Leslie's age."

That was it. Jess was stuck. He didn't see a way out of it. He was going to take Leslie to the dance and look like a fool—in front of the whole town! Everybody everywhere would laugh at him and his "little woman," asking when they would be wed. He couldn't stand the thought of it.

But he had no choice. He was doomed.

As mother got back to her spinning, he shuffled woodenly out the door, his only consolation being that he would get to see how silly Leslie looked in a dress.