The following is a chapter of Searching for Moon Girl, a middle-grade fantasy novel about ten-year-old Ada Goodfellow, who finds herself searching for a Moon Girl and inadvertently falls into the Underground, a magical place that teaches her to be true to herself. A modern-day Alice in Wonderland, this novel brings out the Moon Girl in all of us.

The Quest
“Where can she be?”
With resolve, Ada heads over to the mound of bushes. Her pace slows as she grows closer. She stops and wipes her palms on her pants.
The bushes look much more frightening at night. Not surprisingly, Ada never even noticed them before.
With a touch of doubt, Ada reaches the place where Luna vanished. It seems impossible that a girl her size could fit back here.
As Ada rummages around in the dark, she becomes frustrated. Impatiently, she begins to get angry with Luna. “What nonsense darting in and out of bushes. I think it’s rude and I’m going to tell her so myself.” Stamping her foot, she steps on a twig and its crack nearly sends her into outer space.
Not about to give up, Ada pushes herself in between the prickly bushes. Bare-handed, she grabs a limb and then another. Their jagged sprigs dig into the soft flesh of her half-frozen fingers.
“Ouch!” She shakes her fingers and rubs her hands together.
Ada’s determination forces her further into the unknown. The ground grows softer the deeper she goes. Splish, splosh, her feet squish in the thick mud. Then comes the gulp that swallows her left foot, shoe and all.
Surrounded by darkness and dirt, Ada loses her balance and begins to flail about, looking for a branch to hang on to, striking out wildly, blindly, for anything to save herself from falling.
Sliding in sludge, it becomes clear that her foot is now stuck in an oozing, sunken hole in the ground and is being sucked down even further. “Oh, no. What am I going to do?”
Ada desperately tries to dislodge her foot, pulling with all her might, but it seems to have no effect at all. In fact, it makes the situation worse. Before she knows it, the hole yawns even wider, swallowing her other leg. Gravity pulls her deeper into the ditch.
Half in and half out of the hole, Ada struggles to grab hold of the ground, but all that surrounds her is wads and wads of slippery mud.
Powerless to resist the force below, Ada’s body slides deeper into the hole until her jacket gets caught on something inside. For a moment, her feet dangle helplessly, trapped in the hole with only her head peeking out. Frantically, Ada calls, “Help! Help me! Luna! Where are you?”
Ada furiously wiggles her arms in the dirt around her. One fierce tug causes her nylon jacket to break loose of the snag, sending Ada sliding underground with surprising speed. To Ada, the fall seems to last forever, suspended in slow motion. Deeper she slithers still further into the wide tube of crumbling earth, until the night sky vanishes out of sight above her head. Into the earth, she is gobbled.
Calling out once more, “LUNA-A-A-A-A!” Ada’s cries expand to sound like hundreds of Adas calling for help.
The final echo stops as Ada lands with a thud, her legs splayed out under her.
She tries to see overhead, but there’s nothing except a twisted cavern. Ada’s hood has fallen backward, leaving her hair caked with globs of mud. She pushes the knots of her dark hair off her cheeks. Gathering herself, she is amazed that she can stand up inside such a small area.
Hands, feet, she can move her neck. Satisfied that she has not been paralyzed for life, Ada begins to examine the world around her.
The space is not what one might imagine at all. For the center of the earth, it is quite bright. Its eerie blue-green light is steady and strong. Roots dangle above Ada’s head, swaying in the light. They are humming with life.
Ada has never seen such large roots in her life. It’s almost impossible to focus on them separately as they keep a slow continuous dance like an uncoordinated hand. Ada strains to look closer still to discover eyes, fingers, and noses. The roots are actually a jumble of miniature hands, feet, and faces.
Ada catches herself mid-scream by slamming her hand over her mouth and biting her tongue. She looks carefully. Eyes, like black beads, are intently assessing her as well. Their bodies are the color of the underside of mushrooms, lighter than worms, but not white.
The roots unwind themselves to get a better view of her.
“Look, another one fell in,” one root cackles and uncurls herself closer. “At least she didn’t bring a rabbit.” A twitter of laugher follows.
“Maybe he was late!” Now a peal of laughter erupts as their delicate hands clap in joy.
“I told you, we need to cover that hole up a bit more!” another root whines.
“Naw, then what’d we do for fun? And besides, who wants to risk any limbs stretching across a gaping hole like that, what with wee ones always falling in over there?” the most puckered of roots reminds the others.
As Ada studies them further, another looks down at her. The root moves closer and closer toward the girl, nearly touching her nose. Ada lets out a piercing scream, causing the root to recoil into the soil overhead.
“Aughh, what was that?”
“Have you forgotten what screamers these little girls are?” The roots stretch out again and dance about Ada’s head. Their chatter continues.
Ada dislikes waiting for others. “Excuse me.”
The roots can’t hear her above their own chatter.
“Excuse me.” Fruitlessly, she tries again.
“Excuse me!” Her voice comes out louder than she planned, echoing in the caverns. She has finally gotten their attention. The roots pull away for a moment in surprise.
“OOO a pushy one. Usually takes them a while to get that way.”
“You must help me. I was looking for someone and seemed to have fallen in.”
One of the fattest roots unfurls itself and swirls around to gaze into Ada’s face. It blinks its small black eyes several times before speaking. “Oh dearie, please ignore these younger roots. They don’t know when to quit. Who did you say you were looking for?”
“I’m looking for a girl named Luna. She’s actually quite large and . . .”
“You’d better get on outta here,” another root warns, rudely interrupting Ada. Pushing itself into her shoulder, the root attempts pointing her in the direction from which she came. “We’d love to help you, but we don’t get involved in little girl problems any more. And please Erma, don’t encourage her.”
“Oh would you stop it, please,” Erma gestures with a three-fingered hand toward a long, dark, endless hole. She isn’t smooth like the other roots; instead wrinkles form an irregular pattern across her tan face. “What you are looking for is straight down this corridor.”
Erma continues, “But I must warn you, the roots down that way may not be as friendly as we are. We are the Welcoming Committee after all.” Her pale brown chin juts out in pride.
“Hey Erma, don’t forget to tell her about the witch.” One root nudges Erma with a poke.
“Dear me, I almost forgot. What kind of Welcoming Committee would I be if I allowed the evil Witch Moth to eat you alive? Now where were we?”
“The evil Witch Moth?” Ada gulps.
“She’s a very bitter moth. Doesn’t like visitors in the Underground. Especially little girls. She says they’re pushy and can’t keep their hands to themselves.”
“And she thinks she owns the place,” another root interrupts. “Why, once she said to me, ‘Nothing happens in the underground unless I say so.’ Did you ever?” There is a murmur of agreement among the other roots.
Erma puts her rooty hand on Ada’s shoulder. “Never you mind, little one. She’s hardly ever around and probably won’t notice someone like you. Just head over to registration down the hallway.”
“I’ll go that way. Thanks for your help.” After thanking Erma, Ada reluctantly ducks her head under the chatty tubers. Supposing she’s come this far, Ada decides to continue her search. Besides, now she’s grown rather curious.
Slowly Ada creeps along, almost losing her footing among the slushy mud and gnarled roots. Wads of mud weigh down the soles of her shoes as she trudges on. Not quite certain which way to turn, Ada tries to stay on the path where Erma sent her.
Roots continue to talk, fluttering overhead in reaction to the girl’s presence, but Ada, completely focused on her mission, only catches snippets of phrases: “Well, she’s even smaller than the last.” “I hope we’re not expected to help.” “Ewwww. Did you see that coat?” She ignores their clamor and keeps a steady pace through the tunnel.