The Royal Dream by Laura McGehee

Author:Laura McGehee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ABDO
Published: 2016-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty-six minutes of blindly stumbling through the dark wooded enclave and cursing her inbred relatives and their odd eccentricities later, Emma found herself on the doorstep of Uncle Rustbatham’s mansion-shack with Stutter Intern in tow. Stutter Intern examined the clearly rotting wood and coughed politely.

“I’ll w-w-w-wait out here?” Stutter Intern asked.

“Oh no,” Emma said. “I’m not going in there alone.” What was the point of an intern, if not to terrorize them with all of the horrors of hawk-related humanity? She reached out a hand and knocked, causing a crack to snake up and down the door and split it in half. Emma peered inside to find a floor caked with the impressionistic splatter of bird feces and a webbed city of spiders that would make any self-respecting spider-enthusiast hum with glee.

“Stick close,” Emma said. “It might get weird in here.”

A group of three baby hawks flew over their heads and shrilly cawed a greeting. Stutter Intern jolted and ducked, but Emma calmly extended her arm and allowed the wafts of fluffy feathers to land and vocalize their hellos.

“Hello, hello, hello, nice to meet you, yes you’re quite beautiful, yes you are too,” Emma said, making sure to give everyone equal attention.

“M-m-might get weird?” Stutter Intern asked under her breath. Emma stepped across the threshold and the baby hawks swept around her in a spiral.

“Hello?” she called into the house. “Uncle Rustbatham? I’m here to tell you that you really need to stop bothering me. I’m in the middle of a very important revolution, the likes of which you can’t possibly—”

She was cut short by the shrieking screech of a dive-bombing bird of prey. Stutter Intern dove to the floor, but Emma knew her way around a territorial parental hawk.

“Grimble,” she said disapprovingly, as the hawk barreled around the room in a furious huff. “Can you please be nice to your guests?”

Grimble the hawk perched on the banister and regarded Emma sternly. The three babies landed next to Grimble.

“Yes, I know, they’re wonderful,” Emma said, “but don’t be so protective. You’ve got to let your children live their own lives, fight their own fights, fly their own flights!”

“Ah, is he givin’ ye any trouble?” scratched the voice of crazy Uncle Rusty. Emma looked up to see the bearded and gaunt face of the man she had spent every family function wishing that he would talk quieter.

“No, I’ve got it under control,” Emma said, “but you, on the other hand—you really need to stop calling me. I’m very busy. I even have an intern now. Do you see how frizzy my hair is? That’s how busy I am.”

“Isn’t yer hair always that frizzy?” Rustbatham asked. Emma narrowed her eyes.

“You’re on thin ice.”

“I just find it a lil’ sad that you’re too busy for yer own dear beloved, lovely, wonderful Uncle,” Rustbatham said.

“The last time we actually talked was when I was eight,” Emma answered.

“Oh well don’t sound so angry, now!” Uncle Rustbatham said. “You might bring out the ghosts with that kind of talk!”

“I’m not angry,” Emma said.

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