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copyright
© 1999, 2000,2001 Andrew V. Smith. All Rights
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| 1
A bird in the hand, continued |
| on the next gust of wind. I wonder where those came from,
April thinks. They remind her of one of Sandy’s new stories, at the point
where the action picks up dramatically. Again Sandy uses the present tense.
This story is actually quite good. Either I’m getting used to it or she’s
getting a hell of a lot better at smoothing out those tense transitions.
Present tense is where her mind abruptly comes back to.
Suddenly April realizes two things; she is not hearing a word that Sandy has said for the last ten minutes and Sandy is no longer walking along side her. Concerned about Sandy, April forgets about the pain in her arm. Looking behind her, April sees Sandy bending down on one knee to look at something. Sandy is bracing herself with the outstretched fingers of one hand. April turns back and joins her friend. On the ground is a nestling; an almost featherless very young baby bird. April studies the bird more closely. It’s a robin. Without the protection of a full set of feathers, the poor thing is shivering from the increasingly chilly air. The baby appears to be suffering from exposure and is lying at a weird angle. April fears that it may have been injured from its fall. It appears to be near death. She looks up to find the source of the frantic birdcalls. Mother bird is calling down from her nest in distress. “Hurry!” Sandy entreats. “We have to recite a poem from my aunt’s scrapbook.” April weighs the bird’s options. Norman Bird Sanctuary is not that far away. If the baby bird isn’t too badly exposed, someone there will probably be able to save its life. It’s too late, she thinks. “Look Sandy, this baby bird’s close to death. There’s not a lot we can do for it.” Sandy appears to be ignoring her friend. Her eyes are scrunched shut in concentration, as if she were trying to remember something. “April, just find some dead twigs and um . . .” Sandy is concentrating hard on what she needs. “Let’s get going Sandy. There’s nothing we can do.” April adjusts the load of her backpack on her shoulder. “JUST DO IT!” Sandy eyes bore intently into April’s. April’s stunned. Sandy is bookish and more passive. It’s April who
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