Birdspell by Valerie Sherrard

Author:Valerie Sherrard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV039240 JUVENILE FICTION / Social Themes / Depression & Mental Illness JUV002040 JUVENILE FICTION / Animals / Birds JUV013060 JUVENILE FICTION / Family / Parents
Publisher: Cormorant Books Inc.
Published: 2021-03-13T00:00:00+00:00

Nineteen

“DAD?”

As the shadow stirred and straightened I realized that of course it wasn’t my father, which made me feel foolish. I should have known better than to hope for his help. He hadn’t even bothered to answer the angry email I’d sent, much less show up in my actual life.

My hand went to the light switch and flicked it on.

Mom’s friend Mike blinked, lifted a hand to shield his eyes, squinted, and said, “Corbin.”

“What are you doing here?” I said. It came out sounding rude, but I hadn’t meant it that way. It was disappointment, because he wasn’t my father, mysteriously arriving to save the day and act like he, as Mom would say, gave a flying Fig Newton about me.

“The hospital called me,” he answered, getting to his feet and stretching.

“Why would they call you?”

“Your mom has me listed as her emergency contact,” he said. “They called to let me know what happened tonight.”

I let that sink in.

“Okay, but what are you doing here?” By then my hostility was more forced than felt. I think I put on a convincing front.

“I’m here, Corbin, because you’re here,” he said. He slipped off his jacket and tossed it on the cushion he’d just vacated. “Anyway, right now, we both need some sleep. You’ll obviously have to miss school tomorrow — we can get everything figured out then.”

School. I didn’t mention the suspension. Mike was right, the thing I most needed was sleep. Invisible weights sat heavy on my shoulders and my eyes stung from the fluorescent glare of the hospital lights and lack of rest.

I barely made it to my mattress before I was out.

Ten hours had disappeared by the time I opened my eyes again. For a second, maybe two, the world was normal. Then the awfulness of last night rushed in — blasts of sounds and sights and smells. Like Pop Rocks of horror exploding in my brain.

I got to my feet slowly, feeling like I might fall over if I made any sudden moves. Sounds beyond my room told me Mike was in the kitchen. I vaguely registered the fact that he was talking to someone … to Sitta, actually. I should have realized Sitta would have started squawking long before mid afternoon if he’d still been waiting for breakfast.

I made a quick stop in the bathroom and went to the kitchen doorway.

“Hey,” Mike said. “This guy was warming up for a protest so I snuck him out of your room and got him some grub.”

His thumb jerked toward the top of the fridge as he spoke, but Sitta had flown over his head and out into the hall. Probably shunning me over being fed by a stranger while I slept.

“Yeah, thanks,” I said. I glanced uneasily at the frying pan sitting on the burner and the crumb-and-grease-covered plate near it on the counter. I wondered what he’d eaten and how long he planned to hang around here living on food I’d paid for.

“I called the hospital a while ago,” Mike said.

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