Birdie's Bargain by Katherine Paterson

Author:Katherine Paterson [Paterson, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781536223408
Publisher: Candlewick Press
Published: 2021-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Mom knocked on her door. “Birdie?” Her voice was so quiet, Birdie could hardly hear it through the heavy wood. “May I come in?” Birdie pretended not to hear. Mom knocked again and called again softly, but Birdie didn’t answer. Then Mom left, and Gran came and knocked and called. When she finally went away, Birdie jumped off the bed and turned the lock. She didn’t want either of them just opening the door and barging in thinking—ha!—they could fix things.

Didn’t they know that nothing, nothing could ever be fixed again? It’s not like putting a bandage on a boo-boo. It’s nothing that a kiss on the sore spot can make go away. Grown-ups always think somehow they can fix things. But they can’t.

God can’t even fix things. Or won’t. Or maybe God is just a fairy tale, after all. Are you there, God? She made herself stop crying for a minute to listen.

Okay, God, this is a test. If you’re really there, say something. “Speak now, for thy servant heareth”—that’s what the boy Samuel had prayed, and in the Bible, God had spoken. Speak now or forever hold thy peace. Where had she heard that? It didn’t matter. God was on notice to speak up or shut up.

Birdie was so quiet that she could hear through the door the murmur of voices from the living room. She heard Billy’s waking-up cry. She heard Gran’s voice shushing his cries. She heard Mom’s step on the stairs and then over her head from the bedroom. Then footsteps going back and forth from the closet. Packing. She heard the belch of the furnace sending up more heat.

She heard squeaks and hums and traffic, but she didn’t hear even a whisper from God. And she was listening! Really listening. Listening so hard her ears ached.

Birdie sat up on the edge of the bed and pulled off her green sweater. Next, she peeled off her I ❤ JESUS T-shirt and threw it on the floor. She looked at the dingy T-shirt for a moment. She had loved it once. Birdie smoothed out the crumpled sweater on the quilt before she crawled under it and closed her eyes.

Dear God, make Daddy … She stopped herself. There wasn’t any God. She couldn’t pray anymore. There was no one to pray to. She wanted to cry some more. Not for God. She was crying for herself. She was all alone. It was worse than being an orphan.

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