Be Light Like a Bird
Page 6
The substitute teacher looked up from the class list and asked us to be quiet. After just a few gymnastic exercises, he let us play dodgeball. Callum and Victoria picked the teams. I usually got chosen for a team right at the beginning since I can run fast and turn quickly. Plus I throw a mean, strong ball — another important skill for dodgeball.
Callum picked me right after he called Tom to join his team. Victoria picked Carrie to join her team, even though she was clumsy. Theo was the last kid standing, and since it was Callum’s turn to choose, Theo ended up with us.
The teams spread out, each on their own side of the gym. With ten kids on each team and four balls in play, people were eliminated quickly. Callum aimed at Victoria, and she screamed when the ball hit her foot.
“Victoria is out!” Callum called, smiling gleefully. He tried to dodge a ball coming at him from the right, but it was too late. The ball smacked him on the shoulder, bounced once, and Theo caught it. Callum looked surprised, but he had to leave the field.
Soon, Theo and I were the only kids left standing on our team. Carrie stood on the opposite side, staring at us.
“Aim at Carrie’s legs,” I whispered in Theo’s ear. “She’s a bad catcher and can’t bend down quickly.”
Theo hurled the ball at Carrie. She tried to move out of the way, but the ball glanced off her knee.
“Oh no! I’m out!” Carrie cried before she walked off.
Later, in the changing room, she confronted me. “How come you helped Theo like that?”
“How come you can’t stop talking about his appearance?” I asked.
“Oh, so you’re defending your boyfriend now?” she asked.
I could hear Victoria giggle.
“He’s not my boyfriend, and you know it,” I said. “I just wish you guys would stop being mean to him.”
* * *
After school, I waited for Theo at the bike rack. “Hey,” I said when he walked up. “How are you?”
“Okay,” he replied, not looking at me. “Thanks for helping me in dodgeball.”
“I’m sorry, Theo, about what I said the other day at the pond. I didn’t mean to say that. I feel bad about it, and I want to apologize.”
Theo looked down at the space between his feet, leaving a long pause, and I prepared myself for being turned down. I’d deserve it, too.
Please, say something.
“So you realize that it’s not your pond and those aren’t your birds?” he finally asked.
“I do,” I said, nodding. “And if you still want to, I’d like to watch birds together. I was even wondering if… maybe we could add your photos to our report. It would make it more powerful.”
Another pause. Theo adjusted his backpack. “Good idea,” he said. “We’ll add them to our poster so people can see what they’ll be losing if the landfill gets expanded. But the report is due the day after tomorrow. We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Let’s meet tomorrow morning,” I suggested. “Mornings are better to watch birds anyway.”
“What time?” he asked.
“Around six-thirty,” I said.
Theo nodded. “I’ll be there.”
20
The next morning the sky was clear and the air was still. The pond sparkled in the bright morning sun. When I arrived, Theo was waiting.
“I note all my bird sightings in my notebook,” I said. When we reached the boulder, I took out my bird journal. “You write down time and place, describe the bird, and then make a drawing.” I showed him a few sample pages. “My drawings are bad.”
“This one’s good.” He pointed to a great blue heron that Dad had drawn for me.
“My dad did that one.”
“He’s a good drawer.”
“Mm-hmm,” I said, hoping he didn’t take it any further.
“Is your dad a bird-watcher too?”
I was quiet for a moment. “He was. He’s dead.”
Now he knew. It was out there, and there was no taking it back.
“When did he die?” Theo asked.
“Last February,” I replied. Please don’t ask how he died.
Thankfully all Theo said was, “That’s not a very long time ago.”
Suddenly, the crow, Joseph, was back and drawing attention to himself. Caw, caw, caw!
Theo got out his camera. “He’s looking at us,” he said.
“I know,” I replied.
Just then Theo noticed the drawing I’d done of Joseph. “That’s not a bad drawing of that crow,” he said. “Good job with its head.” He pointed to the page and the word written there. “You gave the bird a name?”
“I did,” I said, waiting for a snide comment.
“Was your dad’s name Joseph?” he asked.
“No,” I said. Please, don’t ask any more questions about Dad.
“Did you know that in India people believe you can get reborn as an animal?” Theo asked, seemingly out of the blue.
“Hmm,” I said, keeping my eyes on my journal.
“After my mom died, my dad bought all these books about grieving,” he continued. “I tried to read them, and he wanted to talk about them with me. But I didn’t understand all of it. I used to wonder what kind of animal my mother would come back as. In church, they tell you dead people are angels, but I’d rather think of her as a bird or butterfly.”
I knew Theo probably only wanted to give me an opportunity to talk about Dad, but I didn’t want to hear about death anymore. “Let’s walk around the pond,” I suggested, taking off.
Walking felt good, pushing the cloud away from me, leaving enough room to breathe. I relaxed.
“I don’t know if I believe people come back as animals,” I said after several minutes. “I miss my dad the way he was.”
“I know,” Theo said. “I got kind of angry at my dad for talking about this stuff. I even yelled at him that it was all garbage, made up by people who don’t know how much it hurts.”
“Have you heard of those stages of grieving?” I asked.
Theo nodded. “I have. But I don’t believe in them. I never denied that my mother died. And I wasn’t angry either. I can’t remember the other stages, but I think counselors just make this stuff up.”
The cloud lifted further, and I took a deep breath. We kept walking. It was good to be silent with Theo.
Along the way, we heard a familiar caw.
“Look, there’s Joseph,” Theo said, pointing ahead to where the crow stood in front of what looked like an animal’s burrow under a tree. He was picking at something.
“He must have found some dead animal,” I said, focusing my binoculars on it.
Theo turned his camera toward Joseph and zoomed in. “It looks like he’s trying to get a turtle out of its shell.”
Joseph kept pecking at the turtle for a while before he gave up and flew away. I walked over to pick it up.
“It’s just a shell,” I said. “No turtle in it anymore.”
“But the shell is complete. Look at these holes, though,” I said, pointing to two small round holes on the top and two on the bottom that perforated the shell.
“I think this is a box turtle shell. I have a book about turtles at home. But the holes don’t look like they were made by Joseph’s beak,” Theo said.
“I’ll keep it,” I said, picking the shell up and sticking it in my backpack. As we walked away, we saw a killdeer limping.
“Oh no,” Theo said. “It must be injured.”
I shook my head. “That’s called the broken-wing impression. She pretends to be injured so a possible predator will come after her instead of her nest. We must’ve come close to her nest, and she’s trying to protect her eggs.”
“It’s cool that you know all this stuff about birds,” Theo said.
I looked away. It felt too weird to
hear a compliment from him.
“It’s time for us to go,” I said.
We headed back to our bikes in silence, but as we pedaled toward the school, I glanced over at him. I was really glad that Theo wanted to watch birds with me.
21
The next morning Ma told me she would be home late that night, and I shouldn’t wait up for her.
“Where are you going? I asked.
“Oh, it’s my coworker’s birthday. We reserved a table at the diner.”
“Whose birthday is it?” I asked suspiciously.
“You don’t know her,” Ma said.
“What’s her name?”
“Her name is Tricia,” she said, frowning. “Why are you interrogating me?”
“I’m not. I’m just asking,” I said.
When she got ready to leave for work, Ma checked her hair in the mirror, and I looked for more suspicious signs. But she wore her usual work clothes and didn’t put on any makeup. Maybe there was nothing to worry about after all.
* * *
After school Theo and I met at the library to work on our report. I was surprised to find myself looking forward to it. But the truth was, I liked Theo. I liked spending time with him, and it felt good to share the bird-watching with someone.
Mrs. Russo came over to greet us and looked through Theo’s photos. “These are wonderful,” she said.
“It’s really a great place,” Theo said. “Too bad they’re turning it into a Dumpster.”
“It is a shame,” Mrs. Russo agreed, holding a photo of a female chickadee.
“I wish we could do more than just write a school report. I wish we could actually do something about it,” I said.
Mrs. Russo looked up and said, “We could display the photos in the library showcase. At least the readers of Pyramid will see them and learn that Pete’s Pond is about to be destroyed. What do you think, Theo? Would you allow me to display your photos? I would put your names in there as well.”
Theo nodded. “We could make posters and label the birds and explain that their home is in danger,” he said.
Mrs. Russo turned to me. “Are you okay with that, Wren? We usually just keep flyers and announcements about local events in the showcase. This would give it a much better use.”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I said.
“All right then,” Mrs. Russo said. “I’ll let you get on with your work. Good luck with the report. Come back as soon as you can to put the display in the case.”
We sat down by the window at the back of the library and began to sort through the slides for our presentation. Outside in the parking lot, I saw a man and a woman walking toward a car. He opened the door for her, and before she got in, they quickly kissed. Watching them reminded me of my conversation with Ma this morning and that worried feeling grew again in my stomach.
“Are you okay?” Theo asked.
“I’m fine,” I said, pointing to the screen. “This great blue heron should go on the other side of the text.”
“You don’t seem fine. You’re brooding.”
“I am not.” I knew Theo was right — I was brooding — but I didn’t want to admit it.
“All right,” Theo said. “If you say so.”
“I’m worried my mother has a new boyfriend!” I blurted out. There! I’d said it!
Theo answered with one of his famous pauses. Then he asked, “How do you know that?”
“She has a new fancy hairdo,” I said.
“That’s good evidence, but it’s not conclusive,” Theo said. “Did you ask her about it?”
“Yes,” I said. “She said she’s not, but I don’t believe her. Before we moved here we lived in two places, and each time, after about two weeks, she started dating someone. We’ve lived here for almost three weeks now.”
“Would it be that bad if she really did meet a man?” Theo asked.
“It’d be very bad. You have no idea! They break up, she cries, and then we have to move. It’s happened the same way in the past two towns.”
“It could be different this time,” he said.
I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
Theo was quiet for a while as we continued to check the slides. Then he said, “I wish I could say that about my dad.”
“Say what?” I asked.
“That he’s in love. Or that he’s met someone. That would be a good thing.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re upset because you think you’ll lose something if your mother falls in love. I understand it hasn’t been that long since your dad died… but at least she’s trying. My dad has totally given up. He hasn’t even looked at another woman since my mother died.” Then he added in a low voice, “Actually, he’s stopped everything.”
I didn’t say anything. I felt sheepish after having shared my own concerns about Ma dating too much.
With his pencil, Theo drew a line along the margin of his notebook. “He spends all his time with books.” He pressed a little harder on his pencil, and the line on the paper became darker. “I wish he’d meet a woman who would cheer him up.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. That’s all I could say.
Theo shrugged. “You don’t need to be sorry. It’s just a different way of looking at things.”
He turned the pencil around and began to erase the line he’d just drawn. The paper creased from the impact of his rubbing, leaving the line imprinted on the page.
22
I stopped at the pond before school the next day, hoping that sitting on the boulder might help clear my head. I didn’t really want to get to school early to deliver my homework to Carrie. She was selfish and only wanted to talk about herself. I got hurt spending time with her. Why did I continue trying to fit in with her? Did I really need to pretend to be like her if it only made me miserable?
I knew I shouldn’t let Carrie copy my homework anymore. But I worried that if I stopped helping her, she and Victoria would make my life miserable. It would take a lot of courage to say no to her, and I didn’t know if I could do it.
White and gray clouds dashed across the sky, and I could smell rain in the distance. I wondered if I would get wet soon. If Dad had been here, he would have sung me the song from Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day.
I didn’t want to think about it, but the song reminded me of how Dad and I had made fun of the words thrustily and gustily. We would crack up trying to outdo each other using them in sentences.
“I am thrustily throwing the garbage in the trash can,” I’d say.
And he would respond, “Your comment makes me laugh quite gustily.”
I tried to focus on the blue jay in the tree on my left while the song kept playing in my head. Suddenly, the sky started to spit icy pellets. I put away my journal and binoculars, ran back to my bike, and pedaled to school as fast as I could, squinting against the wind. While the hail whipped my face, I suddenly remembered a quote from another Winnie the Pooh movie that Dad had liked:
“If ever there is tomorrow when we’re not together… there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart… I’ll always be with you.”
* * *
Later that morning, Theo and I presented our report. Mrs. Peters gave us an A-. The few deductions were due to Theo’s lack of eye contact with the audience, but I didn’t mind the slightly lower grade. Looking directly at people while talking was just not his thing.
After class, Carrie caught up with me. “Why did you say all that bad stuff about my dad? In your report, you made him out to be some criminal.”
“Our report wasn’t about your dad. We argued that the township should protect Pete’s Pond,” I said. “We were supposed to talk about a controversial issue,
and we did.”
“I just can’t believe you’re making such a big deal out of it,” Carrie said. “My dad is just doing his job.”
“He’s destroying a beautiful piece of nature,” I said. “And I wish he wouldn’t.”
“You want to tell him how to run his business?” she asked, glaring at me.
Theo suddenly appeared next to us. “We were just trying to raise some awareness,” he said.
“Awareness?” Carrie repeated, making the word sound like a disease.
“Yes, awareness,” he said. “The ability to feel or be aware of events around one’s self. You should try it sometime.”
Carrie’s mouth dropped open — I wasn’t sure if it was shock or outrage that had silenced her. Finally she straightened up and said, “The two of you are just two crazy peas in a pod.” Then she stomped off.
“Thanks,” I said to Theo once Carrie was gone.
“You’re welcome,” he answered. We started walking down the hall together. “I’d like to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“I talked to my dad about a new pair of glasses, and we’re getting them soon. I also told him I needed some new clothes. We haven’t shopped for clothes since my mother died. He doesn’t want to go to the mall and said we should order them from a catalog. I think that’s a bad idea. I wanted to ask you…” He hesitated. “Would you ask your mother to take me to the mall to buy new clothes? I mean, it would obviously be you and me and your mom going to the mall. Together. I don’t know. It’s probably a bad idea.” He looked down, avoiding eye contact.
For a moment I hesitated to commit. What if Carrie or Victoria saw us at the store? But then I realized it didn’t really matter. I didn’t care if they saw us or not.
“Yeah, no problem,” I said. “I can ask my mother. She’s off on Saturday, and I’m sure she’d take us. Let’s do it then.”