Hiding on a branch, Blue spotted Leah and Ms. Meow’s striped grey tail. Neither of them was going to like what he had to say, but how could he blame them? They’d accuse him of stealing. But running away would be admitting guilt. Blue circled above the trees and wondered what he should do.
He liked Leah well enough, but didn’t trust Ms. Meow, who after all, was a cat. But was Blue any different? He was glad to eat an egg for dinner—but on the other hand, eggs were not live birds. He only stole ones that were the least likely to hatch. Still, he wanted to make amends for his behavior, which is why he had decided to study with Ruby the Great Horned Owl who always saved a few extra dainties for him at her kitchen table—left-overs from the previous evening. Plus, she had rare recordings of great blues singers, Reginald Bluebird Carter and Billie Bluebeak. They’d listen to their music while sipping warm maple syrup beneath a single flickering candle. “A bird is only as good as his song! I wish I could sing half as well as those crooners!”
Ruby didn’t understand why her friend was complaining. “Don’t be silly! You have a beautiful voice.”
Blue thought she was being kind. No matter what he sang, it always sounded harsh. But Ruby had a softly-pitched whooo, whooo and her beautiful hazel eyes shone in the darkest night. “My mother always said that without education I’d never have a steady income of bugs and worms. You agree?”
“Totally.”
Ruby never made Blue feel badly for stealing eggs; in fact, she herself was known to clip an egg or two in the dark of night. He decided to earn a degree in worm habitats. Ruby agreed to be his tutor, which was around the same time he’d met Alma flying to and from his lessons. “How clever you are.” They’d run into each other on the same branch. Alma loved books, especially poetry. She inquired about his classes. “Tell me more, you beautiful Blue. How do you hunt worms? What do you do?”
Blue was glad she had asked. “There are several things you must remember,” he said, “but the most important is to be quiet. Worms hear vibrations all over their bodies. They have five hearts! They breathe out carbon dioxide.”
“More carbon dioxide for baking and green-making.”
“Photosynthesis,” he said, always eager to share knowledge.
Alma crossed her legs and tilted her head. Her wings weren’t feathered, but more of an orange lattice that hummed in the air, prettier than a hummingbird, sweeter than a dove. He’d never met a Glimmerine, elusive creatures. Growing up he’d heard tales about how they had been born in the sunshine and slept with their wings tucked over their heads. Yet here she was standing before his eyes, an actual Glimmerine!
It took awhile for Alma to relate her story. “We were forced from our tree trunks. Alphonsa and Uriel grow carendula. The Glimmerine take care of the trees. Those are the facts. It’s as simple as that.”
But it didn’t seem so simple, especially when some time afterward, she told Blue how her sister Wanda had been killed by one of those buzz saws, those terrible machines that make mincemeat of a thousand years! If that weren’t bad enough, she had been asked by the ancients to move to the green zone near humans. Too many trees were being cut down.
“Afraid of that human crew,” she’d told them. “I wouldn’t know what to do.” The ancients urged her to leave the forest. She had taught herself how to read and write and they believed in her. Speaking with a deep voice that echoed in tree rings, Alphonsa and Uriel said, “Show them kindness.” Being creatures of nature, they hoped that would change things “Can you do that?” She’d never been in a place without kindness.
The trees said she wouldn’t be able to bring Ethel. But her niece had just lost her mother. Telling her story to Blue, Alma opened her palm with the orange glow of friendship that wrapped around him like a warm winter scarf. “Please watch my niece Ethel while I’m gone. She needs a guardian, someone to look after her. I trust you, Blue.”
But as he now circled above the trees, Blue almost wished that he’d never made that promise. He had encouraged Ethel to befriend Leah, which is how this had all started. Part of him wanted to fly away, but he couldn’t. Maybe the glue would work.
“Thief, thief!” Ms. Meow called from the ground. “Don’t even think of coming near.” Leah looked up through the leaves.
“You don’t understand.”
“We understand perfectly! You stole Ethel’s wing.” The cat went on like, sputtering and hissing. Blue had never seen Ms. Meow so upset.
“If I’m such a thief, why did I come back?”
“Yes, why did you come back?” asked the cat.
“I took the wing to my friend Ruby the Owl. She keeps late hours.”
“But why didn’t you tell us?” said Leah.
“Easy one…Because he’s a thief, that’s why.”
“You’re right,” said Blue, feeling the full weight of his failure. “I should’ve. But the idea came to me in the middle of the night. My friend Ruby knows all sorts of things. I wanted to fly there before she left.”
Leah crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at the branch where Blue was perched. “Was she able to fix it?”
“No.” He hoped they believed his story. But as he stood there, Ms. Meow growled, ready to bare her teeth. He could’ve flown away. But he thought of Alma and his promise. He felt a glow.
“Look!” said Leah, holding her hands out as if she were collecting raindrops. “It’s glimmering!” A fireworks of glitter exploded above their heads. “I think you must be telling the truth.” The glimmer drifted on Ms. Meow’s nose and whiskers and wrapped around her tail; it collected in Leah’s outstretched palms and fell into her backpack. The glimmer streaked Blue’s feathers gold.
Leah said, “Hurry, I can see the forest ahead of us.” She pointed. “And it’s glimmering.” A mist swirled around the trees and sparkled to the ground. “I’m not sure how I can help anymore.”
They stood at the edge of the ancient forest. Blue flew from branch to branch stopping every so often to take a quick dust bath. Sometimes Ms. Meow and Blue would run ahead of Leah, especially when the trail through the forest climbed upwards, pine needles so heavy they almost touched their backs.
“Listen,” said Blue.
“What do you hear?”
“The Glimmerine.”
Ms. Meow stopped to listen.
“Tell me, were you really going to bite me back there?” Blue still wasn’t sure he could trust the cat.
“I only wanted to scare you,” she said, licking her paw. “But I couldn’t even if I’d wanted to–I only have terry cloth teeth. It’s one of the great disappointments of my life.”
Blue let out a loud Quawk, which unlike other times, sounded extremely sweet to his ears.