Hummingbird: Chapters 24–34

The thought of them seeing me get carried like a baby was not ideal.

I knew Grace looked up to Nester Tuberose, but I had no idea her love rivaled my love for Dolly.

“Come on over.”
I smiled up at him. This could be an interesting development! He nodded to me, then tripped over a chair trying to walk two feet to sit beside Rosie Snow.

Her voice reminded me of beautiful raspy things, like record players and old screen doors.

One generation passed that orchard on to the next and that’s what we did; we pruned and loved and cared for the trees.

My family only cares for the trees. We don’t see the future when we bite into ’em. It remains a wild abyss for the Tuberose family.

“Seeing the future can terrify people,” Nester said solemnly.

A waitress left a steaming basket of apple fritters in the center of our table, gooey white sugar-icing overflowing down the sides.

“On the house,” Nester said, waving her arm like this was no big deal. Grace and I partook immediately.

I will be a ballerina, in New York City; it is my calling. My livelihood!

Even Uncle Dash was dancing! Miss Snow spun beneath the arch of his arm, giddy with laughter.

“The word of a friend,” she said, “is the only referral that really matters. Good luck on your search.”

“I’m a tree?” Second Maddie said, sounding distraught.

OLIVE MARTIN: BIRD OF JOY
(UNDERSTUDY FOR: EMILY DICKINSON)

I finally nudged the golf cart’s brakes to a stop under a canopy of maple trees.

“Yeah,” Hatch said, his voice a little hoarse.

“This one has a horse and buggy,” Hatch shouted, running beside one past the cart. “That’s the oldest I’ve seen!”

Then the bright light refined to a tiny, fluttering dot between them, and flew at her.

She was elated, actually, convinced we’d found the place where the hummingbird would be on the night of the blue
 moon.

And that’s when I heard my stepbrother’s unmistakable mellow voice say, “Hey.”

Mama looked at Coach Malone, who was doing dishes. He must have given her a telepathic thumbs-up because she nodded slowly and walked away.

It’s not just for you. You don’t think other people need a ramp? That’s just basic etiquette.

I’d planned to go to the gym and study for our second rehearsal, but Mr. Watson intercepted us when we were headed down the hall.

Hatch and I settled into our desks, side by side. At first I thought I’d scooted into the wrong one because of a beautiful new journal situated on top.

Once I was finally loaded onto the stretcher, Hatch turned my hand loose.
“Hey,” I said, my voice groggy.

Hatch meandered in behind her, holding a stuffed unicorn with a purple ribbon around its neck.
“Hey,” he said with a sheepish grin.

Uncle Dash had modified the family van to actually have a wheelchair lift, which was way easier than transferring back and forth with a broken leg.

“Want any stage makeup?” Dylan asked as he finished donning his bird gear.

“Always glitter,” he said. He painted a subtle, starry sheen of golden sparkles on my cheekbones, then his.

His voice sounded muffled, and far away.

I could make out two dark eyes,
and the teal-gold plumage on its back and tail feather,
that’s how close magic came to me!

Glitter fell from the edges of its wings like sifted sugar.

The audience was on their feet, applauding, because they’d loved the play. They gave us a standing ovation!

“But on the way, Luther Frye asked me if I’d build one of my weird doghouses for Gustav. And you know what that means? I got a client. Which means Nester Tuberose will mentor me. I realized I don’t really have to wish for a thriving doghouse empire. I’ll just make it happen.”

And I’m also:
fearless,
funny,
smart,
vivacious,
lucky, and loved, with a
heart like a lion.