“You’ve got a fine daughter, Mrs. Blok,” he said.
“Yes, oh, yes, we’re all very proud of her,” she said. “It’s hard, as you might imagine, to be a single mother with such a”—she gave a strained smile—“unique child, but an honor like this . . .”
The principal regarded her quizzically.
“Well,” Emily’s mom concluded. “It’s good motivation, right, Emily? Hopefully affirmation from your peers will encourage you to continue to work on fitting in.”
The principal opened his mouth, then closed it. Uncomfortably, he congratulated Emily once more and excused himself. Emily’s mother followed his lead, her heels clicking down the hall as she hurried off.
“Sorry for that,” Emily told Klara.
“What? No,” Klara said. She took Emily’s chin in her hand. “Hey. Hey. You do shine, always, and it’s not your job to apologize for your mom. If she can’t see how awesome you are, that’s her problem, not yours.”
Yay, Mom! Ava cheered, making Klara’s insides go funny. Ava quickly amended her message. I mean Klara. Yay, Klara!
So weird, Klara thought. This whole world is so frickin’ weird.
But there’s nothing wrong with weird . . . right? Ava asked.
Klara slung her arm around Emily and said, “C’mon, weirdo. Time to go receive more affirmation from your peers.”
Emily laughed weakly.
Ava glowed.
The rest of the day was full of teachers and lectures and classroom discipline. Today, of all days, it was a chunk of time to endure and little else.
When the last bell chimed, Ava helped Klara find the Bird Lady’s oak tree hideout. Emily followed quietly behind.
At first, the Bird Lady was thrilled to see them, but she got skittish when they confronted her about her plans to talk Klara into changing her wish. Ava could tell that the Bird Lady felt guilty, as well she should. Klara and Emily explained about Ava and the future and how badly everything would turn out if the Bird Lady interfered.
The Bird Lady pulled herself up tight and denied it all. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said frostily. “You’re making up stories about me just to be cruel, and I won’t listen. I refuse.”
Ava spoke to Klara in her mind, and Klara reached for the glass bottle that held the scroll with Klara’s name on it.
“No, no, these are my things,” the Bird Lady said, spreading her arms and blocking the way. “You’re not going to steal from an old lady, are you?”
“How old are you?” Klara said, but Ava hadn’t really meant for her to. It slipped out of Ava’s consciousness and into Klara’s, that’s all.
“None of your business,” the Bird Lady said.
“Ma’am?” Emily said.
The Bird Lady jutted out her lower lip. “No. Whatever you’re selling, I don’t want it. Nothing you can say will change my mind.”
Now was the time, Ava realized. Ava told Klara the Bird Lady’s secret, and when Klara gasped, Ava felt the gasp resonate through her. She felt so connected to Klara—her one-day mother. She was so connected. Was this what it was like to be in the womb? Would she really be reborn as her own self one day?
Yes, you will, Klara told her fiercely. To the Bird Lady, out loud, she said, “We’re not here to steal from you. We’re not here to blame you, either. And we’re not making all this up. You know that what we told you is true; I can see it in your eyes.”
The Bird Lady hemmed and hawed. She said, “Well, and what’s the harm? Maybe I was going to come to you tonight. Maybe I was. Wouldn’t have been the catastrophe you’re making it out to be.”
“Except it would have,” Klara said. “That’s why we’re here. I’m safe now, and Emily’s safe, but you can’t meddle with the wishes of anyone else, ever.”
The Bird Lady’s face fell. “I . . . I just want to help. All I’ve ever wanted is to help, and perhaps be appreciated a bit. That’s all.” She blinked and grew stubborn. “And so I will. You can’t tell me not to.”
“Would you want to even if you knew you weren’t helping? Even if you knew you were making things worse?” Klara pressed.
The Bird Lady’s eyes looked shifty.
Klara lowered her voice. Gently, she said, “When your mother died, she whispered something into your ear.”
“No!” exclaimed the Bird Lady. Red blotches bloomed on her face. “How do you know that? No one knows that! I was the only one with her!”
“She said, ‘You are perfect just the way you are,’ and those were the last words she spoke.” As Klara spoke the words, Klara—and Ava—were flooded with compassion. “You told my daughter that, or you will. Time is . . . fluky. Jumpy. But you told my one-day daughter, and you told her for this very reason: so that you would believe me and listen to me and stop meddling.”
The Bird Lady attempted to bluster her way around the truth, but gave up. Fat tears spilled out of her eyes. “I thought if I helped people, they’d be grateful. That maybe they’d come visit me sometimes.” In a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “All I’ve ever wanted is for people to like me.”
Emily reached out to touch her. “We do like you.”
“And we’ll come visit you,” Klara added. “We promise. Just, no more meddling with other girls’ wishes, ever.” She regarded the Bird Lady sternly. “Can you do that?”
The Bird Lady asked Klara if she would tell her again about her mother’s last words to her, and Ava knew it wasn’t because she doubted Klara’s story. It was for the comfort of being reminded of her mother’s love.
Klara indulged her. After repeating the story, she said, “It sounds like your mom loved you a lot.”
“She told me to ‘be my own girl,’” the Bird Lady said wistfully. “I suppose I lost track of that, didn’t I?”
Klara hitched her shoulders. “It’s okay. We all mess up.”
“It’s late,” Emily said, tugging gently on Klara’s sleeve. “We should go home for dinner.”
Ava nudged Klara to ask the Bird Lady something else before they left.
Klara
