Read Online Soar by Joan Bauer - Free Book Online Page B

cam?”
    Jerwal glows.
    There are two eagle cams I follow. The baby eagles from the Nature Conservancy are doing really well. “Let’s check in on the intact family.”
    I link to the streaming eagle site. Right now a parent eagle is sitting on the nest warming three eggs. Male and female eagles take turns doing nest duty, which I think is awesome. Yaff’s mother mentioned this to Yaff’s father, who said, “No kidding?” and went back to watching football and dropping peanut shells on the rug.
    â€œI think the female eagle is on the nest, Jerwal.”
    Female eagles are a little bigger than the males. This one is pecking at the twigs, looking around, just content to sit there. You have to care about eagle details to get into this. It took Yaff a while to care. The fact that there was no audio drove him crazy. He kept screaming “This is boring!” when I first showed it to him, but then I explained that the babies in the eggs need protection, and the parent is showing a real dedication by not deserting the eggs or flying off to town tomeet some friends after work and have a beer.
    â€œSometimes nature is quiet,” I told him.
    He got into it then and it was hard to pull him away.
    Yaff has the heart of an eagle—no matter what comes at him, he deals with it.
    I miss him. I scroll through my eagle pictures, find the best one of an eagle building a nest high up. I type, I hope you’re going to be busy while I’m gone, and send it to him.
    Whoosh.
    Instant response: I’m not cleaning my room till you come back.
    Smile. How come?
    Just seems right.
    Later.
    Yeah . . .
    Back to nature. The eagle mother sits on the big nest, watching, protecting—which is kind of what Walt did for me, except I’d already hatched when we met.
    The babies should be pecking out of the shells in three weeks—that’s what the nature people think. I have to set a timer when I watch, or I’ll forget to do other things, like take my medicine.
    Ping.
I take two blue pills.
    The mother eagle is rocking on the nest and opening her mouth like she’s singing a raptor lullaby. Walt said when I was little and couldn’t sleep, he’d sing me the Michigan fight song. He’s such a bad singer, I think I went to sleep to protect myself.
    The eagle cam helps you remember all the great people in your life who’ve been there for you.
    â—†Â â—†Â â—†
    â€œI know you have genius in you.” I tell Adler this as he drools. “It’s not always clear right off. It’s good you moved off the lawn. That’s the first step to a deeper life.”
    I hold up a plastic bagel squeak toy. Right now we’re working on get-the-bagel. I put it on our front porch. “Adler, get the bagel.” Adler sniffs the air, doesn’t move. “No.” I say this sharply to remind him this is a command and I’m in charge. “Adler, get the bagel.”
    Adler trots over to the porch, takes the bagel in his mouth, and brings it over.
    â€œGood dog!” I give him a serious rub on his neck. “Excellent dog!” Adler wants love more than snacks. “Let’s do it again.”
    That’s when Franny walks up. She doesn’t look angry anymore, which is good, but no way am I mentioning Canada. “Hi, Franny. How are you doing?”
    â€œSub-okay.”
    â€œYou must have known Hargie well.”
    â€œNo. Bo did. He’s . . . not talking to anybody.”
    Bo is sitting on the front porch of their house looking at his hands. Franny’s mother jogs up the street, back from her run. She bends over, breathing hard.
    Franny waves. “She’s training for a half marathon,” Franny tells me.
    Mrs. Engers looks up. “It’s conceivable I might die!”
    â€œYou look strong!” Franny shouts back.
    â€œHa!”
    Bo just sits there.
    I throw the bagel. It’s a bad throw into Mrs.