Tales of adventure and danger have thrilled Felicity since Augustus taught her to read as a little nestling. She adores the tales of heroes and heroines who forge ahead in spite of all odds, and who always seem to succeed no matter what. More than anything, Felicity wants to be brave and selfless like them.
But adventures are in short supply, especially for someone who's just an ordinary sparrow.
Until the day an unexpected visitor shows up at her tree with an unusual request.
Felicity~
A Sparrow’s Tale
By
Loralee Evans
Copyright 2014 Loralee Evans
Cover Design by Jacqueline Fowers and Loralee Evans
Cover Design Copyright 2014 Loralee Evans
Illustrations by Rachel Evans and Loralee Evans
Illustrations Copyright 2014 Loralee Evans
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form whatsoever without prior written permission of the author except in the case of brief passages embodied in critical reviews and articles.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 8
Chapter 16
In Loving Memory
About the Author
Dedication
To Tyler, Rachel, Paul, and Nichole
For their encouragement and support in writing this story.
“Hope is the thing with feathers
that perches in the soul…”
~Emily Dickinson
Chapter 1
Felicity perched on a leafy branch of her tree reading a book. Her beak almost touched the page and her eyes hardly blinked.
She had reached the most exciting part of the story, with the little rabbit rushing through the garden looking for a way out before he got caught.
She already knew he would escape, but that he would lose his jacket and shoes doing it. This was the seventeenth time she had read the book, after all. She also knew the little rabbit and his cousin would get his clothes back in the next book. Which she’d read sixteen times.
Still, Felicity always got excited at this part and she was glad for the quiet. She found it so much easier to concentrate.
Felicity was a small young sparrow with brown striped wings, a dark brown head and a little fan of a tail. She didn’t stand out much from her friends, the other sparrows, except that she always seemed to have her beak in a book.
She had a whole shelf of books in the hollow of the tree where she had lived since she had been hatched, an old woodpecker’s nest that their neighbor Augustus, an ivory-billed woodpecker, had given to her parents.
He’d given them the books too, and had taught Felicity how to read.
Since she was a tiny chick, the tales of adventure and danger she found in Augustus’s books had thrilled her. She adored the heroes and heroines who forged ahead in spite of all odds, and who always seemed to succeed no matter what.
Sometimes, Felicity even imagined going on an adventure, and of being courageous and selfless like her heroes.
But when she was honest with herself, she didn’t think she could ever have an adventure of her own.
There were seeds and juicy bugs to eat; songs to chirp, and best of all, books to read.
Felicity eagerly flipped to the next page.
But no real life adventures.
Or so she thought.
~ ~ ~
“Hello?”
With her beak in her book, Felicity barely heard the voice calling out and did not look up.
“Is anyone home?” the voice, a young male’s, called again, closer this time. “Oh! Hello, miss!”
Realizing that the speaker addressed her, Felicity snapped her book shut and tucked it under a wing. She nudged the book with her beak, making sure it was out of sight, then lifted her head.
“Pardon—” she began before she saw her half-hidden visitor come around a cluster of leaves.
She gasped, fluttering in shock. “A featherless two-foot!” Her book loosened but she caught it at the last moment and hid it under her wing once more.
The tiny man smiled at her surprise, but not unkindly. One hand held a branch above his head for support.
“Sorry. What was that, miss?” he asked.
She hopped a little, blinked her eyes, and fixed her gaze upon the speaker. “You’re a—”
She tilted her head and ruffled her feathers. “You’re a featherless two-foot. But a— a tiny one. I’ve never seen one my size. The rest are all big and noisy. And— they smell bad! They—”
Felicity stiffened and clapped her beak shut, cringing at what she’d just said. Had she hurt his feelings? Sometimes words just spilled out of her beak before she could stop them.
“Oh.” One of the tiny man’s eyebrows lifted and he grinned. He didn’t seem hurt. “You mean— a person?”
Felicity tipped her head at the funny word. It seemed vaguely familiar. Maybe she had read it in one of her books. “Per-sun?”
“Yeah. That’s what we call the big-folk where I come from.”
“Where do you come from?” she asked.
The little man pointed a thumb over his shoulder to the forest that grew up tall and thick across the road that ran beside her tree. “The Wildwood,” he said.
Felicity’s eyes widened and her beak fell open.
The Wildwood! Where no sparrows ever went. Or any of the wide black roads the featherless two-foots made for their big noisy carts. No wonder she’d never met anyone like him. She’d never been in the Wildwood. She hadn’t even flown over the road that ran between her tree and the thick forest on the other side.
She turned her head and studied her new visitor, wondering what he could be.
Wind caught at the tiny man’s sand-colored hair and fluttered it about his head and pointed ears.
Felicity tipped her head. Big featherless two-foots didn’t have pointed ears!
Something behind him shimmered as he moved, and Felicity hopped backward, gaping at the translucent wings on his back. She hadn’t noticed them before. Bright and sheer like a dragonfly’s wings, they caught the light, reflecting a rainbow’s hue of colors.
And the clothes he wore didn’t look a thing like what the big featherless two-foots wore, or even the rabbits in her book. A pair of pants, a long belted shirt and boots that went about halfway to the tiny man’s knees all looked like they’d been made of leaves, all sewn together.
“Gracious!” she said, blinking her widened eyes at him. “You’re a—”
She had read about them in one of Augustus’s books but she’d never imagined she’d ever meet one. “You’re a fairy!”
“Yes miss, I am,” the tiny man said. His wings lifted him off his branch and he drew nearer, hovering a short distance away from Felicity. “And I’m looking for Augustus Ivory-billed Woodpecker. Is he here?”
He looked past her toward the small opening that led into her nest as if he expected to see the woodpecker there.
“Oh.” Felicity dropped her head. “Well, er—He doesn’t live here. Anymore. He gave his nest to my parents and, um, I don’t know—”
“Okay, well, are your parents nearby then?” The fairy’s brow furrowed a little. “If I could, I’d like to ask them if—”
Something on her face must have made him stop.
“Um, they’re not—” Felicity said, her voice breaking. “They’re not here either. When I was a nestling—” She swallowed. “A hawk ate them.”
The small man’s wings stilled and he dropped to the branch beneath him. He grabbed a nearby twig.
“Oh.” His face grew apologetic. “Gosh, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s alright.” A
ragged sigh escaped her. “You didn’t know.”
The fairy heaved a deep breath. “And what about Augustus?” he asked gently.
Felicity shrugged. “I haven’t seen him for a long time. He took care of me after my parents—”
The lump returned, and Felicity swallowed it back. “But I haven’t seen him since I got old enough to take care of myself. I don’t know where he went and I don’t know if, um, when he’s coming back.”
The fairy’s bright wings sagged, and his face made Felicity regret her words.
“You mean— you don’t know where he is? If he’s even— around anymore?” the fairy asked.
“Er,” Felicity fluttered and hopped sideways. “I don’t know, exactly. I just—Well, I haven’t seen him in so long.”
She took a tentative hop nearer to the little man. “I’m sorry. Were you a friend of his?”
“I never met him,” the fairy said. “But my father knew him. Long ago. Augustus is the only one who could help us, with— our problem, so I offered to find him.” The fairy shook his head. “And now I’ll have to go home and tell him that I failed.”
“Tell— who?” she asked.
The fairy ran a hand through his hair. “The king.”
“Er, you have a— king?” She tipped her head.
The fairy nodded. “Taron, King of the fairy folk of Wildwood.”
“You don’t have a president or prime minister or, um, mayor?”
The fairy smiled a little at this. “Nope. Just a king and—”But his smile faded and he looked sad again.
“Oh.” Felicity didn’t know what else to say. The poor fairy. He looked so disheartened. Maybe she could help? “Um, I’m—”
The fairy looked up.
Felicity clapped her beak shut.
What had she been about to say? She was just a plain sparrow, not an ivory-billed woodpecker. The fairy had already said that Augustus was the only one who could help.
“I’m sorry for, um—”Felicity stopped. She didn’t even know what problem had brought this fairy to her tree in the first place. She cleared her throat. “For whatever the problem is.”
“Thanks.” The fairy heaved a sigh, then managed a weak smile. “Well, bye.”
“Bye,” she returned.
His wings became a whir, beating at the air to lift him off the branch. He turned away and maneuvered out of the branches. Felicity watched him as he fluttered toward the Wildwood.
What terrible thing had happened? What had made him so sad? He hadn’t said. Not that it mattered, since she wasn’t Augustus and had no idea where to find the woodpecker. Still, she wished she could help.
The tiny fairy grew smaller as he flew across the road and toward the thick trees where the Wildwood began.
Felicity shifted her book under her wing, and started to turn away.
But then something, an instinct maybe, made her turn back.
Her heart jumped in her throat at the terrible shadow that cast itself over the fairy and grew rapidly larger. She recognized that shadow too well! Her book dropped from beneath her wing.
“Look out, fairy!” she screeched, flapping to the edge of her branch.
At her warning shout, the fairy looked up.
His eyes widened and he lunged to the side seconds before the hawk hit.
The hawk’s talons seemed to barely miss him, closing on empty air.
Ha!
Relief washed through her.
But then it vanished when the fairy started falling, his arms and legs flailing as he plummeted toward the wide black road.
Chapter 2
“Nooo!” Felicity screamed. She shot off the branch and dove toward the helpless fairy. He’d be smashed! Why didn’t he fly?
As she drew closer, she could see the terrible reason and flapped toward him all the harder.
Reaching her talons out, she snatched the fairy’s shoulders and spread her wings wide, catching the air, slowing his fall.
The fairy looked up, terror written on his face as he grabbed her ankles.
“Your wings, your wings!” she wailed, beating the air to rise up with his extra weight. She looked down at the ragged shreds of the fairy’s beautiful dragonfly wings on his back. “The hawk tore off your wings!”
“Don’t mind that! Look out!” the fairy shouted.
Felicity looked up and into the huge white eyes of a featherless two-foot’s cart.
“Ahhh!” she wailed, flailing to the side just as the speeding cart roared past, whipping her and the fairy in a cyclone of noise and air.
The world became a blur and Felicity felt the weight of the fairy almost fly out of her talons. She clenched her feet, determined not to let the helpless fairy drop. She would not let go!
The whirling air subsided at last and Felicity righted herself. But she had no time to catch her breath when the fairy shouted again. “He’s coming back!”
Felicity looked up.
The dark outline of the hawk bore down on them once more, swelling rapidly as it dove toward them.
Her wings already aching from the strain, Felicity lunged aside. The hawk flashed by so close that she could feel the wind of its passing brush her feathers.
A scream of frustration escaped the hawk. Behind her and to her right it wheeled around, its wings beating the air as it came at them again.
Flapping frantically, she shot toward the safety of her tree, the helpless fairy dangling from her feet. Any moment she would feel the hawk’s sharp talons closing around her or ripping the fairy out of her grip.
Leaves slapped at her as she plunged among the rustling branches. In her reckless speed one smacked right in her face, blinding her for a second.
As she shook the leaf off her face, several twigs cracked beneath her.
“Ow! Geez! Ow!” the fairy cried as more twigs slapped against his legs.
“Sorry!” she gasped, struggling to pull his weight and weave through the branches at the same time.
At last, she reached a wide branch a few hops away from her house and dropped the fairy safely down.
She lighted on the branch beside him, gasping. Her book sat not far away, its cover neatly shut as if nothing had happened.
Felicity struggled to calm her breathing. She’d pick it up in a minute.
A hawk’s scream cut through the branches overhead and Felicity looked up with a start. Through the branches of her tree she could see the hawk circle once above them. Then it turned and flew off out of sight.
Felicity barely had time to feel relief when something touched her wing. She chirped in alarm before she turned and looked into the fairy’s face.
“Are you okay?” he asked. He let go of her wing and rubbed his shoulder. “That was very brave.”
Felicity heaved a breath. “Sorry if I pinched you. And for those branches hitting your legs.”
The fairy shook his head. “You saved me. Don’t be sorry.”
“But your poor wings!”
“Yeah. ”The fairy looked over his shoulder and fluttered the remnants of his wings. “This isn’t good.”
Felicity spread her wings and hopped sideways.
“Of course it’s not good,” she chirped. “It’s terrible. Your wings got ripped off! And—”
She stiffened and clapped her beak shut. What a thoughtless thing to say! He could see that his wings were gone. She didn’t need to point it out!
The fairy’s feelings didn’t seem hurt though. “They’ll grow back in a couple of days.” He bent and picked up her book, turning it over in his hands. “Sometimes less. And they don’t even really hurt.”
He fell silent, and his lips moved as he studied the title.
Felicity tipped her head. Could he read, too?
The fairy looked up. “Whose book is this?”
Her eyes went to the book. “Um—”She gulped. “Augustus’s. I, uh, I like the pictures.”
She looked away. Well, it wasn’t a complete lie. She did like the pictures after all. But what
if he thought she was weird for being able to read? No other birds she knew, except for Augustus, could.
The fairy heaved a broken breath. “Oh.”
She hopped backward then gestured toward the round opening into the tree. “Hey, um, you can stay a while. Until your wings grow back, anyway.”
The fairy’s forehead wrinkled. “I should actually—”
“Come on.” She hopped past him and through the round entry into her house.
A little nest made of sticks and mud sat in the middle of the round room. On one wall, hung a framed painting of Augustus’s parents that had been there for as long as Felicity could remember. At the back of the rounded chamber a bookshelf that Augustus had carved from the wall itself held Felicity’s several other books. Between the painting and the shelf sat an old-fashioned ice-box. Another gift left by Augustus.
“Welcome!” she chirped, turning to the fairy who stooped through the entrance, her book still in his hands. He looked around, his eyebrows raised. “This use to be Augustus’s house,” she explained.
She nodded toward the painting of the two ivory-billed woodpeckers. “They’re his parents. My folks never wanted to take it down. Me neither.”
She hopped toward the ice-box and opened it. “You can put that book on the shelf. I’ll find you something to eat and— ah ha!”
She pecked up a still-wriggling beetle. The very last one. She shut the door of the ice-box and turned.
“You cam hab dis ome!” she said past the wriggling beetle in her beak. “Da guts are da bebst!”
The fairy stooped to put the book back on the shelf. “Did you say— guts?” he asked. Then he turned.
At the sight of the wiggling beetle in her beak, the fairy’s eyes widened and his face turned a strange shade of pale green.
“Oh boy. I, um—”The fairy looked away. “Actually, I can’t stay. Luckily— er, I mean, honestly I can’t.”
“You cam’t go eiber,” Felicity argued. “You mibe as well habe a snack.” She hopped toward the fairy, the beetle outstretched. But the fairy scrambled backward like he didn’t even want the beetle. But that was silly. Beetles were delicious!
She paused and shook herself. Perhaps it was rude to eat in front of her guest but it was just as rude to talk with her mouth full. With a flicker of her head she crunched the beetle in her beak. Tasty!
“Sorry about that,” she said, gulping it down. She gestured to the icebox. “I don’t have any more bugs.”