A Step from Heaven by An Na Page B

an orphan we had to save because we found him crying all alone with no one to take care of him. He was worse off than we were. Joon found him on the way home from the corner market one day. As always, Joon was running ahead of me, gathering up speed on the downhill so that he could jump over a low juniper bush. Joon leapt forward, and then just as it looked like he might clear, his back foot caught a branch.
    I think it was fate that made Joon fall when he tried to jump over that bush. If Joon’s head hadn’t been so close to the ground the moment Harry peeped for help, we would never have foundhim. He was such a little bird. Nothing but a spit mark on the dirt.
    When we got Harry home, Joon and I made up some juk-rice and warm water all mixed together looking like glue. It was the food Uhmma fed us when we were sick. Every time Harry opened his mouth we fed him a spoonful of juk. After a while Harry was covered with it, but he stopped crying and fell asleep.
    Joon didn’t think Uhmma and Apa should know about Harry. “He’s our bird, Uhn-nee. We have to take care of him.” Joon’s eyebrows knitted together in a dark scowl. “Anyway, they might not let us keep him.”
    So we wrapped Harry in an old towel and put him in a shoebox. We hid him in the back of Joon’s closet. Ellie, the purple-nosed elephant, stood guard. We tried to love Harry the way good parents are supposed to. We cooed and petted his short, dark feathers. We held him next to our cheeks and told him he was going to grow up to be a strong bird.
    After school, we would “guy-bye-boh” to see who had to clean out the box and who got to feed Harry.
    â€œReady?” I asked Joon.
    â€œReady.”
    â€œGuy. Bye. Boh.” We shook our fists in rhythm to the words.
    Joon held out his hand flat. Paper.
    I held out two fingers in a V. Scissors. Scissors cut paper.
    â€œI win,” I said and gently scooped up Harry. Joon picked up the box, his head angled away from the odor.
    â€œWhen do you think we should teach him to fly?” I asked as I spooned some juk into Harry’s mouth.
    â€œSoon, I think,” Joon said, scraping out the inside of the boxwith a crumpled piece of paper. He turned to me with a grin. “I bet Harry’s going to grow to be an eagle.”
    I looked at Harry’s skinny neck. I didn’t know about that, but I didn’t say anything.
    When Harry got to be a little bigger, Joon cupped him in his hands and zoomed around the house.
    â€œI’m teaching him how it feels to have the wind in his face,” Joon said when I worried Harry might get dizzy. I sat on the couch hugging my knees, fingers crossed in hope that Joon would not crash into a wall. I knew Harry had to learn how to be a bird someday. He was growing fast.
    But then he stopped. Growing. Breathing. We opened the closet door and Harry didn’t peep when the light reached him. I took out the box. Harry lay curled up in the towel, still and quiet as the sunlight falling on the bed. I didn’t want to believe what I saw. I closed my eyes. Maybe Harry would move when I opened my eyes again. No. I started to cry and looked over at Joon. He stood stiff and straight, staring at the wall above his bed, clenching and unclenching his fists. I touched his shoulder. Joon jerked away.
    We buried Harry on a hill, the hill where we were supposed to live but never got a chance to. We wanted Harry to be someplace high so he could at least have a clear view of the sky. And even though there were brand-new houses all around the place we were headed, we tried to walk as if we belonged there in our patched jeans and tight, faded T-shirts, carrying an old shoebox and a purple-nosed elephant. No one stopped us.
    We knew there were no houses in one area of the hill, only a few trees and crumbling dirt. With the sun dying at our backs,Joon and I knelt down with our spoons and started to dig. A light breeze stirred the