Read Online Beyond the Laughing Sky by Michelle Cuevas - Free Book Online

called a barbaric yawp.
    Nashville ran and ran and ran all the way into the village of Goosepimple. He ran through his favorite park, and around his favorite tree; he waved to the puppets in the puppet shop, the old men gossiping on their porches, and several barking dogs.
    He was, in his own way, saying good-bye to Goosepimple.
    The last place he stopped was the pet shop. A closed sign hung on the door—likely due to Miss Craw playing canasta—but through the windows he could see the cages hanging around the store, birds hopping from perch to perch, or tossing around seeds, or staring at themselves in the mirror thinking they had a friend.
    And then, all of a sudden, he knew exactly what to do. He found himself doing something that, until that day, he would have thought impossible.
    Nashville broke into the pet shop.
    It wasn’t very hard actually. Nobody in Goosepimple locked their doors, and even when they did, they hid the key somewhere close. Nashville knew the key to the pet shop was under a stone turtle by the door.
    The birds started squawking their alarm the minute he walked inside.
    â€œKeep it down,” he said. “You can yell all you want once you’re out.”
    First Nashville propped the front door wide open. Next he flung open the large windows to the shop. And then, one by one, he unlocked every birdcage in the store. He stood back, waiting for them all to burst forward, but to his astonishment, not one of them moved.
    â€œHaven’t you ever heard the saying free as a bird?” he asked. “What are you waiting for?”
    Finally, a small lovebird hopped onto the edge of her cage door.
    â€œThat’s it. Go on,” Nashville whispered. “Be brave. Be bold.”
    The lovebird puffed her chest once as if making a final decision, then flew out of her cage and out the door of the shop.
    â€œWoohoo!” shouted Nashville.
    The birds tilted their heads to the side. What a peculiar thing had just occurred.
    â€œWho’s next?” asked Nashville.
    The lovebird’s mate, not wanting to be alone, was the next to leave his cage.
    â€œGood choice,” encouraged Nashville. “Bravo.”
    It must be true what they say, because those birds of a feather began flocking together, right out the door to the shop. It all happened in one great whoosh! It was like a tornado, the whirlwind of birds and wings and feathers that rushed out the door and window, Nashville in the center of it all, spinning, arms up, yelling like madman.
    He followed them, still hooting and hollering, out the door to the shop. He watched them get smaller and smaller as they flew away, like a bunch of balloons accidentally—or in this case quite on purpose—released. He made a mental note to leave instructions on his piggy bank, a note saying that its contents should be paid to Miss Craw for the birds.
    â€œI’m coming, too!” shouted Nashville after the birds. “I’ll be right behind you!”

W hen Nashville arrived home, he could hear his parents once again talking in the kitchen. The phone was ringing over and over, and when his father answered, Nashville heard words like expulsion and school grounds . Words like break-in and pet shop. After his father hung up the phone, Nashville heard more clips of conversation. He knew what they were discussing, and he crept around behind the pecan tree to avoid it.
    But when Nashville rounded to corner, he found himself face-to-face with Junebug climbing down the ladder to the fort.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” asked Nashville.
    Junebug smiled her biggest, goofiest smile at Nashville.
    â€œI found your wings,” she said. “They’re amazing.”
    â€œWh-what?” asked Nashville. He wasn’t sure what to say.
    â€œOr,” Junebug continued, “I should say they were almostamazing.”
    â€œNo,” Nashville said, climbing up the tree so fast his foot slipped twice and he nearly