Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow. But reading the text automatically triggered thoughts of how cold it must have been in Moscow, and Stevie wondered if Napoleon used a goose-down comforter.
Realizing it was happening again, Stevie closed the history book and pulled out her English assignment. Her class was reading
Animal Farm
. Stevie tried really, really hard to concentrate, but the mention of all the animals was very distracting. It was absolutely, positively hopeless.
Stevie didn’t understand how any teacher could expect her to do homework with something as exciting as impending motherhood. Plus, she hadn’t looked at the eggs for nearly five minutes and was starting to feel like she was neglecting them. Resigned to the fact that concentration wasn’t something that was going to happen anytime soon, she closed her book and returned to her new favorite spot: in front of the incubator.
Stevie was adjusting her pillow when, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she caught a movementin the incubator. But when she looked again, all twelve eggs were resting comfortably, no sign of activity. She peered closely at the eggs, holding her breath, but nothing happened. Not even the slightest wiggle. But she was sure she’d seen
something
.
Without taking her eyes off the eggs for a second, Stevie reached for the phone, tugging on the cord to draw it toward her. She quickly dialed Lisa’s number and waited breathlessly while the phone rang.
“Hello?” answered Lisa.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Stevie said in a rush. “I think it moved!”
“An egg?” Lisa guessed.
“Of course an egg,” Stevie said excitedly. With the receiver cradled against one shoulder, she reached for the literature that had accompanied the eggs. She flipped through it, looking for some kind of pre-hatching symptoms.
“The little fellow was probably just getting comfortable in there,” Lisa suggested. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Not worry about it?
Stevie wasn’t sure what response she’d expected from Lisa, but it wasn’t that. She quickly ran her index finger down each page as she skimmed the text. There was information on absolutely everythingfrom breed types to suggested care instructions. But she couldn’t find anything on egg wiggling. Not that the egg did wiggle for sure. But what if it had?
Lisa, who obviously didn’t understand the possible significance of a wiggling egg, had already changed topics and was going on about her new favorite subject: vaulting.
“I’m completely psyched about the competition,” Lisa said excitedly. “I even stopped at the bookstore on the way home and picked up a book on vaulting. I’ve been practicing some of the moves and I want to try them on Clara. At the walk anyway. There’s the Basic Seat and the Stand, which we already kind of tried. But there’s also the Flag and the Mill. If we were entering a real competition, we’d also need to be able to perform the Vault-on, the Scissors, and the Flank.” She paused to catch her breath and suddenly realized that Stevie hadn’t made so much as a peep on the other end of the line. “Uh … Stevie?”
Stevie gasped.
Lisa frowned. “Stevie?” There was no response. “Stevie, what’s going on?”
Lisa heard another gasp at the other end of the line, this time louder.
“Stevie!” shouted Lisa, worried.
There was a dull thunk as the phone dropped fromStevie’s hand and hit a hard surface. It was followed by a dial tone as the line went dead.
Lisa frantically jumped to her feet, running out of her bedroom. She rushed down the stairs, shoved her feet into a worn pair of sneakers, and grabbed a jacket as she raced out the front door.
L ISA DIDN ’ T LIVE far from Stevie’s house. She ran the entire way, panicked that something had happened to one of her best friends. It was just after eight-thirty, and she wasn’t usually allowed out this time of the evening on a school night, but she figured that if Stevie
Realizing it was happening again, Stevie closed the history book and pulled out her English assignment. Her class was reading
Animal Farm
. Stevie tried really, really hard to concentrate, but the mention of all the animals was very distracting. It was absolutely, positively hopeless.
Stevie didn’t understand how any teacher could expect her to do homework with something as exciting as impending motherhood. Plus, she hadn’t looked at the eggs for nearly five minutes and was starting to feel like she was neglecting them. Resigned to the fact that concentration wasn’t something that was going to happen anytime soon, she closed her book and returned to her new favorite spot: in front of the incubator.
Stevie was adjusting her pillow when, out of the corner of her eye, she thought she caught a movementin the incubator. But when she looked again, all twelve eggs were resting comfortably, no sign of activity. She peered closely at the eggs, holding her breath, but nothing happened. Not even the slightest wiggle. But she was sure she’d seen
something
.
Without taking her eyes off the eggs for a second, Stevie reached for the phone, tugging on the cord to draw it toward her. She quickly dialed Lisa’s number and waited breathlessly while the phone rang.
“Hello?” answered Lisa.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Stevie said in a rush. “I think it moved!”
“An egg?” Lisa guessed.
“Of course an egg,” Stevie said excitedly. With the receiver cradled against one shoulder, she reached for the literature that had accompanied the eggs. She flipped through it, looking for some kind of pre-hatching symptoms.
“The little fellow was probably just getting comfortable in there,” Lisa suggested. “I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Not worry about it?
Stevie wasn’t sure what response she’d expected from Lisa, but it wasn’t that. She quickly ran her index finger down each page as she skimmed the text. There was information on absolutely everythingfrom breed types to suggested care instructions. But she couldn’t find anything on egg wiggling. Not that the egg did wiggle for sure. But what if it had?
Lisa, who obviously didn’t understand the possible significance of a wiggling egg, had already changed topics and was going on about her new favorite subject: vaulting.
“I’m completely psyched about the competition,” Lisa said excitedly. “I even stopped at the bookstore on the way home and picked up a book on vaulting. I’ve been practicing some of the moves and I want to try them on Clara. At the walk anyway. There’s the Basic Seat and the Stand, which we already kind of tried. But there’s also the Flag and the Mill. If we were entering a real competition, we’d also need to be able to perform the Vault-on, the Scissors, and the Flank.” She paused to catch her breath and suddenly realized that Stevie hadn’t made so much as a peep on the other end of the line. “Uh … Stevie?”
Stevie gasped.
Lisa frowned. “Stevie?” There was no response. “Stevie, what’s going on?”
Lisa heard another gasp at the other end of the line, this time louder.
“Stevie!” shouted Lisa, worried.
There was a dull thunk as the phone dropped fromStevie’s hand and hit a hard surface. It was followed by a dial tone as the line went dead.
Lisa frantically jumped to her feet, running out of her bedroom. She rushed down the stairs, shoved her feet into a worn pair of sneakers, and grabbed a jacket as she raced out the front door.
L ISA DIDN ’ T LIVE far from Stevie’s house. She ran the entire way, panicked that something had happened to one of her best friends. It was just after eight-thirty, and she wasn’t usually allowed out this time of the evening on a school night, but she figured that if Stevie
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