The Wish and the Peacock by Wendy S. Swore

Author:Wendy S. Swore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shadow Mountain Publishing

Chapter Sixteen

With the open house coming tomorrow, concentrating at school is about as impossible as a mouse ignoring a rattler. Kimana and Mateo promise to come by right after school so we can work on our plan.

I think better when I’m moving, so I walk while I wait: from barn to barn, over the canals, and back. At each spot, I try to think like a city person. What would they hate? Smells, obviously. And bugs—gotta have lots of those. Spiders for sure.

Mr. Ferro didn’t seem scared at all when I told him how dangerous machinery can be on the farm, but what if I we set up something really scary? Probably Mateo can help me think of something to plant on—

I stop. Plant.

Mateo’s plant.

I didn’t open the greenhouse this morning.

Suddenly the warm day seems a lot more dangerous. I run to the greenhouse, and I can feel the heat even before I touch the tarp door. All day long, the sun heated the air inside the greenhouse like an oven, which is usually great if I have the fans on. But I don’t.

I forgot.

The greenhouses were never my job before. Mom always did them. I mean, I helped, but only when she asked.

The C-clamp clatters to the cement as I push the tarp aside, hot air billowing out around me.

His beautiful plant hangs limp and droopy.

I lift it off the hanger, lug it outside, and set it down so the vines trail to the side but not under the pot.

“Let’s give you a drink.” I grab the watering can, but the metal almost burns my hand, and the water inside is warm enough to bathe in.

Dumping it out, I run and get fresh, cool water and hurry back to pour it over the thirsty flowers.

Plants can do amazing things when they have what they need.

Probably this will perk up.

I frown at the way the wilted white geranium bends almost upside down.

Probably?

I’ll check it later.

If the worst happens and the plant doesn’t make it, I’ll ask Mom or Grandpa to take me to the store and get him another one.

I squat beside the sad little plant and touch a withered leaf. “Live, buddy. You can do it. Please? Mateo is gonna kill me.”

I’ll give it a day or two before I decide what to do. No need to worry him if it’s gonna be okay, right?

A dirt bike growls in the distance, so I leave the plant outside the sauna and jog toward the house.

Kimana’s the first to arrive, and I wave her over to the chicken barn. “In here!”

With a backpack slung over her shoulder, Kimana flicks her kickstand down on the hard-packed dirt, takes off her helmet, and shakes her hair free of the straps. A beaded rose barrette clipped to the top of her long black braid catches the sunlight and sparkles with her every movement. She hangs the helmet on her handlebar. “We’re meeting in there?”

“Yeah. My mom’s probably still in bed, but just in case she wakes up, it’s better to be out here.

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