skirt around her waist, and the bells jingling around her ankle, and mostly, the swaying and shimmying of her hips, say she wants to have fun, fun, fun. She dances in a circle around him. She reaches out a hand. Come join me, Jaybird.
Jaybird lets himself be coaxed into dancing, for a moment, but then he drops Electraâs hand and goes back to singing his sad song.
And as he sings, a rain cloud floats slowly across the beach, a small one, a disk of gray. Itâs headed toward Jaybird. But along the way, it soaks Electra to the bone. She frowns under the wet hair hanging in her eyes and a squiggle of coal rises from her head.
Exit Electra. Sheâs no longer dancing.
And Jaybird just goes on singing his sad song.
The cloud finds him like it was looking for him. It hovers above him, drenching him. He takes a duck step to the right. The cloud follows. To the left. The cloud follows. He stands in one place and lets the rain fall over him.
And he goes on singing his sad, sad song.
Here comes Electra again. Sheâs got a cake with her now. Iced in blue, rimmed in white. She holds it up to Jaybird.
He takes a bite, frowns, and goes back to singing his song.
Electraâs written something on the cake. âPlay with me, Jaybird. Life is supposed to be fun.â
Jaybird doesnât bother looking at the words. Heâs busy. Heâs sad. Heâs singing his song.
Anyway, the rain pouring down washes them away. Electra watches as the cake grows soggy and crumbles from her hands. A single tear drips down her cheek.
Jaybird doesnât notice. Heâs too busy singing. Heâs too busy being sad. Heâs so in love with his sadness.
She leaves again.
The rain washes down on Jaybird. All around him, the world still frolics in the sun.
This time when she returns, sheâs carrying banners and flags. She races around him, waving them every which way. She pulls out a noisemaker and blows it at him. The candy-colored tube unfurls in his face.
But he just goes on playing his sad, sad, sad song.
She lights off fireworks. They explode in the sky.
Jaybird ignores them. He plays on.
When she points a firework above his head, his rain cloud soaks it and tamps it out before it can explode.
Electra crumples to the sand. She sits and she watches Jaybird soak in the rain. She watches as the sand below him grows damp and soft. She watches as he slowly sinks in, up to his knees, to his waist. She reaches out to him, to help him pull himself up, but he doesnât take her hand. He keeps right on singing and he keeps right on sinking.
And Electra despairs. Her face, usually so white, begins to change color. Itâs turning blue, slowly, and puffing up. Now sheâs sad, too. And the longer she watches Jaybird play his sad song, the bigger she puffs. The bluer she turns. Until heâs sunk so far that just his shoulders and head are above ground and sheâs finally blown up like a balloon.
And she pops and the tears explode out of her body and come raining down over everything.
Does Jaybird notice?
He does not. Heâs too busy being sad. Sinking. Disappearing in the sand under his rain cloud.
12
Jake had watched the animation at least a hundred times. Each time it came to an end and the Jaybird character that was supposed to be him sank under the sand, he started it again. It was one thirty in the morning now, and as he sat in his underwear at the too-small desk heâd inherited with his new room, he still couldnât bring himself to stop clicking back and watching the animation one more time.
What stung wasnât that Elena had transformed her anger at him into art like this. That was how she processed her feelings, and anyway, he knew he deserved it. Heâd thrown the first punch when heâd let his emotions boil and burn at his show. When heâd taken Nathanielâsstupid advice and recklessly played that cruel song for her. What stung was that she hadnât been
Jaybird lets himself be coaxed into dancing, for a moment, but then he drops Electraâs hand and goes back to singing his sad song.
And as he sings, a rain cloud floats slowly across the beach, a small one, a disk of gray. Itâs headed toward Jaybird. But along the way, it soaks Electra to the bone. She frowns under the wet hair hanging in her eyes and a squiggle of coal rises from her head.
Exit Electra. Sheâs no longer dancing.
And Jaybird just goes on singing his sad song.
The cloud finds him like it was looking for him. It hovers above him, drenching him. He takes a duck step to the right. The cloud follows. To the left. The cloud follows. He stands in one place and lets the rain fall over him.
And he goes on singing his sad, sad song.
Here comes Electra again. Sheâs got a cake with her now. Iced in blue, rimmed in white. She holds it up to Jaybird.
He takes a bite, frowns, and goes back to singing his song.
Electraâs written something on the cake. âPlay with me, Jaybird. Life is supposed to be fun.â
Jaybird doesnât bother looking at the words. Heâs busy. Heâs sad. Heâs singing his song.
Anyway, the rain pouring down washes them away. Electra watches as the cake grows soggy and crumbles from her hands. A single tear drips down her cheek.
Jaybird doesnât notice. Heâs too busy singing. Heâs too busy being sad. Heâs so in love with his sadness.
She leaves again.
The rain washes down on Jaybird. All around him, the world still frolics in the sun.
This time when she returns, sheâs carrying banners and flags. She races around him, waving them every which way. She pulls out a noisemaker and blows it at him. The candy-colored tube unfurls in his face.
But he just goes on playing his sad, sad, sad song.
She lights off fireworks. They explode in the sky.
Jaybird ignores them. He plays on.
When she points a firework above his head, his rain cloud soaks it and tamps it out before it can explode.
Electra crumples to the sand. She sits and she watches Jaybird soak in the rain. She watches as the sand below him grows damp and soft. She watches as he slowly sinks in, up to his knees, to his waist. She reaches out to him, to help him pull himself up, but he doesnât take her hand. He keeps right on singing and he keeps right on sinking.
And Electra despairs. Her face, usually so white, begins to change color. Itâs turning blue, slowly, and puffing up. Now sheâs sad, too. And the longer she watches Jaybird play his sad song, the bigger she puffs. The bluer she turns. Until heâs sunk so far that just his shoulders and head are above ground and sheâs finally blown up like a balloon.
And she pops and the tears explode out of her body and come raining down over everything.
Does Jaybird notice?
He does not. Heâs too busy being sad. Sinking. Disappearing in the sand under his rain cloud.
12
Jake had watched the animation at least a hundred times. Each time it came to an end and the Jaybird character that was supposed to be him sank under the sand, he started it again. It was one thirty in the morning now, and as he sat in his underwear at the too-small desk heâd inherited with his new room, he still couldnât bring himself to stop clicking back and watching the animation one more time.
What stung wasnât that Elena had transformed her anger at him into art like this. That was how she processed her feelings, and anyway, he knew he deserved it. Heâd thrown the first punch when heâd let his emotions boil and burn at his show. When heâd taken Nathanielâsstupid advice and recklessly played that cruel song for her. What stung was that she hadnât been
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