up from the paper.
“Oh,” Jason said. “Fine. Pretty good. I’m
pretty tired now.”
“Wash a lot of cars?”
“Yep.”
His dad looked up. “You didn’t wash
mine.”
“Oh…did you want me to?”
“I did. That’s why I took it over to Manny’s
Car Wash this afternoon, about five-thirty. Guess who wasn’t
working there?”
Jason looked down at his shoelaces.
“In fact,” his dad continued, “I talked to
Manny, and he said you never even asked for your job back. Says he
hasn’t heard from you in a few months. Now how is that
possible?”
Jason sighed. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Where were you?”
“We had that audition today.”
“You were with those kids? In
Minneapolis?”
“It didn’t go well.”
“I don’t care how it went. I told you no more
band. And now you’re going all the way to the Cities and back, with
a teenage driver, and not telling anybody where you went?”
“It was a bad day,” Jason said. “If that
makes you feel better.”
“It’s not about how I feel, Jason. It’s the
way you’ve been acting. Disappearing all night? Lying to your
mother and me? This isn’t like you, Jason. What’s going on with
you?”
Jason shrugged. “I just like being in the
band.”
“You’re getting irresponsible,” his dad said.
“You’re going to be a senior next year. You need to start acting
like an adult. Set a good example for your sister.”
“Okay. I will.”
“And why should I believe anything you say?”
his dad asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re still grounded, and you said you’re
not going to prom, so I’m running out of ways to punish you. And,
at your age, it shouldn’t be about punishment. You should be more
mature. You should know to be honest, responsible and considerate
of others. Especially your little sister, who you left all
alone.”
Jason didn’t know what to say. His dad’s
disappointment filled the room like a thick, cold cloud.
“I’ll do better, Dad,” he finally said.
“I hope you do. Until you show me a little
responsibility, I’ll just think of you as somebody who can’t be
trusted at all.” His dad started reading the paper again.
Jason trudged up the stairs to his room,
feeling worse than he had in years. His parents hated him, and
there would be no more band practice. No more afternoons and
weekends with Erin.
He collapsed on his bed, put on his
headphones, played the Lead Belly collection on his iPod, and
closed his eyes.
Chapter Nine
Aoide slept in her woven-grass hammock, with
the doors of her rear balcony open to catch the cool breeze through
the trees. She was completely relaxed, her translucent purple wings
stretched out to either side of her. When the fist pounded on her
front door, she startled awake.
She fluttered her wings and hopped out of the
hammock, landing gently on her bare feet. The fist pounded on the
door again.
“I’m coming!” she yelled. She yanked on a
vine hanging from her ceiling, and the hammock folded up and pulled
away into a knothole overhead.
Aoide opened the small porthole in her
circular front door and looked out through the smoked-glass window.
She could see out, but no one could see inside.
Her apartment was on the south trunk of a
huge old sugar maple tree, the third door up. Like most fairy
homes, she had a landing porch outside her front door. From there,
a woven spider-silk bridge connected to the trunk’s main walkpath.
The walkpath itself alternated between more of the spider-silk rope
bridges, little stairwells molded inside the trunk itself, and
limbs trained to grow at just the right distance to serve as
stairs.
Now, Aoide’s view of the hustling, bustling
walkpath was blocked by cold-eyed male fairies in black armor, with
the Queen’s Seal on their breastplates.
Aoide held her breath. This could be good
news. She’d reported their instruments stolen, and maybe the
Queensguard had found them. It didn’t feel like good news, though.
They weren’t carrying
“Oh,” Jason said. “Fine. Pretty good. I’m
pretty tired now.”
“Wash a lot of cars?”
“Yep.”
His dad looked up. “You didn’t wash
mine.”
“Oh…did you want me to?”
“I did. That’s why I took it over to Manny’s
Car Wash this afternoon, about five-thirty. Guess who wasn’t
working there?”
Jason looked down at his shoelaces.
“In fact,” his dad continued, “I talked to
Manny, and he said you never even asked for your job back. Says he
hasn’t heard from you in a few months. Now how is that
possible?”
Jason sighed. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Where were you?”
“We had that audition today.”
“You were with those kids? In
Minneapolis?”
“It didn’t go well.”
“I don’t care how it went. I told you no more
band. And now you’re going all the way to the Cities and back, with
a teenage driver, and not telling anybody where you went?”
“It was a bad day,” Jason said. “If that
makes you feel better.”
“It’s not about how I feel, Jason. It’s the
way you’ve been acting. Disappearing all night? Lying to your
mother and me? This isn’t like you, Jason. What’s going on with
you?”
Jason shrugged. “I just like being in the
band.”
“You’re getting irresponsible,” his dad said.
“You’re going to be a senior next year. You need to start acting
like an adult. Set a good example for your sister.”
“Okay. I will.”
“And why should I believe anything you say?”
his dad asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re still grounded, and you said you’re
not going to prom, so I’m running out of ways to punish you. And,
at your age, it shouldn’t be about punishment. You should be more
mature. You should know to be honest, responsible and considerate
of others. Especially your little sister, who you left all
alone.”
Jason didn’t know what to say. His dad’s
disappointment filled the room like a thick, cold cloud.
“I’ll do better, Dad,” he finally said.
“I hope you do. Until you show me a little
responsibility, I’ll just think of you as somebody who can’t be
trusted at all.” His dad started reading the paper again.
Jason trudged up the stairs to his room,
feeling worse than he had in years. His parents hated him, and
there would be no more band practice. No more afternoons and
weekends with Erin.
He collapsed on his bed, put on his
headphones, played the Lead Belly collection on his iPod, and
closed his eyes.
Chapter Nine
Aoide slept in her woven-grass hammock, with
the doors of her rear balcony open to catch the cool breeze through
the trees. She was completely relaxed, her translucent purple wings
stretched out to either side of her. When the fist pounded on her
front door, she startled awake.
She fluttered her wings and hopped out of the
hammock, landing gently on her bare feet. The fist pounded on the
door again.
“I’m coming!” she yelled. She yanked on a
vine hanging from her ceiling, and the hammock folded up and pulled
away into a knothole overhead.
Aoide opened the small porthole in her
circular front door and looked out through the smoked-glass window.
She could see out, but no one could see inside.
Her apartment was on the south trunk of a
huge old sugar maple tree, the third door up. Like most fairy
homes, she had a landing porch outside her front door. From there,
a woven spider-silk bridge connected to the trunk’s main walkpath.
The walkpath itself alternated between more of the spider-silk rope
bridges, little stairwells molded inside the trunk itself, and
limbs trained to grow at just the right distance to serve as
stairs.
Now, Aoide’s view of the hustling, bustling
walkpath was blocked by cold-eyed male fairies in black armor, with
the Queen’s Seal on their breastplates.
Aoide held her breath. This could be good
news. She’d reported their instruments stolen, and maybe the
Queensguard had found them. It didn’t feel like good news, though.
They weren’t carrying
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