The Improbable Wonders of Moojie Littleman by Robin Gregory

Author:Robin Gregory [Gregory, Robin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781942545019
Publisher: Gatekeeper Press
Published: 2015-04-14T21:00:00+00:00

The next time Moojie saw Sarru’kan, he was at the creek making paper with Babylonia and the twins. Moojie called out for him, and when he turned around—by force of will, and summoning the power of his mind—Moojie extended his mighty righty, held his breath, and concentrated with all his might. Imagine his surprise when he opened his palm and found a squirming yellow, white-and-black-striped blob in it—a live caterpillar!

“Ah!” Shar exclaimed.

Visibly surprised, Babylonia and Sarru’kan approached Moojie.

“Ellu! Ha!” Sarru’kan snorted. He examined the caterpillar and, in a low, gravelly voice, a voice spiked with malice, said in French, “Maggots have no magic.”

Having had French lessons from his mother, Moojie understood perfectly what Sarru’kan said. And yet, he remained transfixed on the caterpillar. Did I do that?

Sarru’kan cocked his head and continued speaking in French. “He is a worm, just like that filth in his hand!” And then he jerked away one of Moojie’s crutches, causing him to topple to the ground, sat upon Moojie’s back, and slurped a fresh plum. Moojie squirmed to get out from under his weight. He reached behind himself to grab an arm or a leg. It was pointless. He was helpless as, well, a worm. He floundered, stupidly at a loss for words, and when at last something came out, it wasn’t what he expected. Out poured a stream of words—wet, buttery French words! “Nothing is wrong with being a caterpillar, or a worm since they’re beautiful, and if it wasn’t for them, flowers wouldn’t bloom and there wouldn’t be any color in the spring.” The phrases just gushed out, clear and sparkling. To think that at one time his tongue had been Sleepy the Dwarf! He even surprised himself.

The twins backed away. “Sahib is unclogged!” Shar whispered. Babylonia blinked with astonishment. Sarru’kan stood, speechless.

And then, from the trestled bridge, the sound of wagon wheels.

The Light-Eaters disappeared with a whoosh! behind the granite outcropping, sweeping away their footprints in the sand with lilac switches. Was Pappy coming? Had he seen them? What would Moojie do if he had? The last thing he needed was to be skinned alive.

Moojie trekked up the trail toward the cabin, still stewing about Sarru’kan. A diabolical idea came to mind, a plan that would put the magus in his place once and for all: What if he snitched on the clan? Ha! What if Pappy knew what was really going on at the creek and in the fields when he was gone? There came an awful tightening in his throat. The spot of light came back into his field of vision, like a sunspot in a camera lens. Everywhere he looked, it followed his line of sight. Everything outside him—the shrubs, the creek, the woods—appeared to be transparent, nearly formless and colorless. Aggravating.

He stumbled into the yard, heart thumping, brow dripping, just as the wagon rolled in. The driver had on a dark shirt like Papa used to wear. For a minute, Moojie thought it was his father. His breath flew out of him.

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