As Brave As You by Jason Reynolds

Author:Jason Reynolds
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Atheneum Books for Young Readers

TWELVE

#466 Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Maybe the real reason Adam and Eve weren’t supposed to bite the apple is because then all the birds would’ve had access to the seeds, and the Garden of Eden would’ve become the Garden of dead . . . doves? Doves were the only birds back then, I think. stupid stupid. stupid!

#467 Why are flea markets called flea markets?

#468 Do crabs feel pain when their whole bodies get fried? Does the shell protect them from feeling it? Why does the shell get soft? Did dying an apple seed death hurt Michael Jackson? Apparently the seeds are poisonous, but Grandpop eats them every day, which means by now he’s probably had at least a million, and seems fine . . . minus the whole glaucoma thing.

#469 Am I now technically a model-breaker questionnaire bird murderer? Stupid question. YES. I AM.

#470 So STUPID!

That night Genie and Ernie devised a plan, because that was what detectives and criminals did, Genie figured—devised plans—and since Genie and his brother were going to attempt to replace a dead bird with a stolen one, they were technically, sort of, kind of, criminals. Not real criminals, but still.

“We gotta get rid of Michael first thing in the morning,” Genie was saying, giving the red truck up in their bedroom a poke. Even though he had basically given up on searching for the other half of the wheel and still hadn’t found a way to replace it, the truck problem was small potatoes compared to this new one.

“Grandma’ll be up and all over us,” Ernie said, jumping up from push-up position. “She’s like the first person in the entire world to get up.”

“Then we gotta be first first,” Genie decided. Ernie started doing jumping jacks.

“How early we talkin’?”

“I’on’t know. Maybe like five. Gotta be before the sun even comes up, because Grandma says she wakes with the sun, remember?”

“Man, that’s early.” Jumping jack, jumping jack, jumping jack. “Also, how you gon’ get the dead bird out the cage?” Now Genie laser-stared at Ernie, not blinking, as Ernie jumped and jacked, until finally Ernie, catching on to what was happening, stopped mid-jump. “Genie. No.”

“Come on, Ern! I can’t touch that thing. It’s . . . dead!”

“But you killed it!”

Genie’s face melted instantly, and he threw himself back onto the bed like a toddler. He knew he was too old to act that way, but he also knew he needed Ernie to help fix this bird situation for him. Ernie lowered his arms and let out a defeated sigh. “Fine.”

Early the next morning, before daylight, Genie and Ernie got up. Actually, Genie got up and woke Ernie up. Genie hadn’t slept a wink. Instead he spent the night thinking of all the things that could go wrong just trying to get the dead bird out of the house. What if the bird wasn’t even really dead, just really really asleep (maybe apple seeds did to Michael Jackson what cheeseburgers did to Ernie), and what if

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