Rules for flying, p.1
Rules for Flying, page 1
part #4 of The Morley Stories Series
Rules for
Flying
Jacquelyn Johnson
©2020 Crimson Hill Books/Crimson Hill Products Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book, including words and illustrations may be copied, lent, excerpted or quoted except in very brief passages by a reviewer.
Cataloguing in Publication Data
Jacquelyn Johnson
Rules for Flying
Description: Crimson Hill Books trade ebook edition | Nova Scotia, Canada
ISBN: 978-1-989595-63-3 (ebook - Draft2Digital)
BISAC: YAF000000 Young Adult Fiction: General
YAF022000 Young Adult Fiction: Girls & Women
YAF058020 Young Adult Fiction: Social Themes – Bullying
THEMA: FXB – Narrative Theme: Coming of age
YXO -- Children’s / Teenage personal & social issues:
Bullying, violence, abuse & peer pressure
YXHB -- Children’s / Teenage personal & social issues:
Friends & friendship issues
Record available at https://www.bac-lac.gc.ca/eng/Pages/home.aspx
Front Cover Image: Cristina Zabolotnii
Book Design & Formatting: Jesse Johnson
Parts of this story formerly appeared in the novel Sam’s Christmas published in 2019.
Crimson Hill Books
(a division of)
Crimson Hill Products Inc.
Wolfville, Nova Scotia
Canada
It’s a magical Christmas morning…
A winter storm means that Sam Park is about to get her biggest wish, to have a real family Christmas.
Trees are down. The power is out. But not even a storm can cancel Christmas for the Star family. There are gifts under the tree. Everyone sings carols. Soon, they’ll gather for the big turkey dinner with all the trimmings.
To Sam, it’s all wonderful. Magical. It fills her heart with joy.
Yet Sam also has a dark secret, one she can’t possibly tell anyone, not even her two best friends.
Especially not them.
Even though this secret could ruin everything.
Then, all too soon, Christmas is over and Sam’s worst fears are coming true…
Rules for Flying is a book about being true to yourself, standing up to your fears and following your heart’s fondest desire.
For girls 10 to 13 who like stories about feisty girls facing real problems with courage and ingenuity as they discover their own voices and strengths.
Rules for Flying is the fourth book in the Morley Stories series of novels for middle school girls in grades 5 to 8.
Also In
The Morley Stories
Series:
Just Me. Morley
Feather’s Girl
Sam’s Gift
Rules for Flying
Find them all at www.CrimsonHillBooks.com
Remember this always.
What you think, you are.
What you believe, you are.
But, most of all, what you do, you are.
Always think and believe and do your gift to the world.
Because you are the only one who can.
- Madame Boulanger
one
“Santa came! He was here! At our house! Santa really came! And there’s a pink bicycle and I think it’s for ME! Wake up, come on, wake up!”
I open one eye. It’s barely light out. The room is cold. I want to snuggle into my sleeping bag and sleep some more. But Daisy isn’t going to let that happen, for anyone.
“Come on! It’s Christmas! He came! Santa came! And there’s a bicycle! And it has a basket and streamers and everything! And it’s pink!”
“Ok. Ok, Daisy. We’re here.” I hear Eira say. “Coffee first,” Dom says hopefully. “Then presents.”
But Daisy can’t wait. Eira has swept back the living room curtains for the bit of light there is from the gray sky, revealing that overnight there was more snow. She turns a switch and the Christmas lights come on.
“And the power came back on!” Daisy squeals, until reminded that no, that’s just the generator. The power is still out from the big storm. But the tree does look pretty, the most colourful thing in the room.
Then Dom is showing Daisy how to sit on her bike, Morley is helping Eira make hot drinks for everyone and Uncle Gus comes in with a plate of cinnamon toast he made with his new homemade toaster. Just something he put together this morning, he says. It’s a sort of wire rack thing that you put bread in and hold over the fire, made out of old coat hangars.
Christmas morning breakfast, he says. His treat.
Then we’re all opening gifts and saying, “Oh I love this!” and everyone’s smiling. I figure there aren’t going to be any gifts for me, so I go over to the piano and play some carols. Just because I feel like it.
But then Morley comes over to the piano with a gift wrapped in green tissue. “For you,” she says.
It’s a jade-green circle scarf. I know she made it. I put it on, feeling the kitten softness next to my neck. “Thank you,” I say, hugging her. “It’s perfect!”
Morley just about cries when she opens her gift from Eira and Dom. It’s a laptop and it comes with a year of internet service, Dom says. “But what about Mom? She said no computers for kids…”
“We’ll manage that when your mother gets home,” Eira says. “Don’t worry!”
Daisy can barely tear her eyes away from her new pink bike. But she does for long enough to open all her other gifts. There are a lot of them. She searches through the pile to find the ones from her dad, Danny. Because of the storm he couldn’t get here for Christmas.
Gus gets a gift certificate to his favourite tool store and Dom gets a new e-book reader. And they both get scarves that Morley made.
Daisy loves the princess tiara her sister Morley made for her and puts it on right away. Eira’s eyes light up when she sees it. “Morley – you designed this? It’s fantastic!” Eira says.
“I know,” Morley says. “It turned out even better than I thought it would.”
Pixel and Feather get new toy mice with catnip inside, but they’re both more interested in chasing each other through the piles of gift wrap until they collapse in a furry heap and fall asleep under the tree.
After all the gifts are opened, I nudge Morley, sitting next to me on the floor, and say to Daisy, “I think there might be some more gifts. In the tree!”
Daisy leaps up. “In the tree? Where?”
That’s when she finds the red envelope for her. The one Morley and I put there last night.
Hidden among the branches are other envelopes. There’s one each for Morley, Dom, Eira, and there’s even one for me which is a suprise.
Daisy is so happy to get a letter from Santa, she doesn’t even think about asking what the other surprises are, which is good because she already has opened just about all of them.
Eira’s has two tickets for a skiing vacation to Whistler after Christmas. From Dom.
Morley’s envelope has a gift certificate for her to pick out the phone she wants. She’s thrilled. And I’m so happy, too, because now we can text, just like Jayden and I already do.
Dom just smiles and leans over to kiss Eira when he opens his. I never did find out what it said.
But I think mine is the very best gift of all. It’s a card, with a house covered in snow on the front. The house looks like Morley’s house, sort of. I know she drew it.
Here’s what it says inside:
Dear Sam,
It’s been so special to have you with us this Christmas. But it has been anything but normal, hasn’t it, with the storm and so much going on?
So this is an invitation to come and spend next Christmas with us, and your mother is also invited if she would like to come. Give us another chance to show you what a real Star Family Christmas is!
Fondly,
Eira, Dom, Morley, Daisy and Gus
There’s a paw print under their names, which I guess is for Pixel and Feather.
“Thank you,” I say. “I’d love to!” Even though I know it probably isn’t ever going to happen. Not with us so far way away in Hawaii. That’s where my mother wants us to move to.
Besides, I’m already having a real Star Family Christmas, the first and best Christmas of my life! And all because of that winter storm that started the night of Morley’s sleep-over party.
When everyone is washed and dressed, we all have to go outside to see Daisy’s gift to everyone. She made birdfeeders with Gus and used some of her birthday money to buy birdseed. Now the new feeders are hanging all around the front and back yards. At the feeders, chickadees zoom in, grab a seed and fly away, ignoring the blue jays who lecture any other bird who wants a snack. From a nearby branch, a male cardinal watches the feeders, waiting his turn.
Later, I get out my phone and find out I don’t have much charge left. There’s a message from my Tia Margaret and a picture of her with her own kids. There’s also one from Jayden with more Tippy pictures. Tippy’s my puppy but he’s having a doggy vacation at my friend Jayden’s over the holidays. In the pics, Tippy’s got a Santa hat on his head and a new chew toy. He looks pretty happy.
Morleys’ new phone isn’t charged yet because the electricity is still off from the storm. Her Aunt Eira’s phone is totally flat because Daisy was playing Candy Crush on it. Dom forgot to charge his before the power went out, so it isn’t working, either. Morl ey uses mine to send a Merry Christmas message to her mother and her new baby sister Lily. They’re still at Kentville Hospital because Lily was just born.
Her mum and Danny, that’s Lily’s and Daisy’s father, have agreed that, for a special Christmas sister gift, Morley and Daisy are each allowed to pick a middle name for Lily.
“How about Mary?” I ask. “Mary was the very first Christmas mother.”
“Mmm, I guess. But I like Holly.” Morley says.
The name Daisy picks is Noelle. That’s her teacher’s name. So the new baby is going to be called Lily Holly Noelle Star. Morley says there’ll be a Christening in a few weeks. That’s a ceremony to name a baby. It happens at their church. I’m invited, if I want to come.
And the Stars also invite me to the repeat sleep-over party, because the storm meant everybody had to go home early. Except me. That’s because my mother was supposed to pick me up. But she wasn’t answering her phone. As usual. So I’m still here.
Right then, I know, is my chance to say I might not be in Seabright then. I start to say that. “I don’t know…”
But then Eira calls us to help with the vegetables. I swallow the words. Out in the kitchen, we talk about other things.
Happy things.
Not what I’m worried might happen when my mother finally turns up.
~ ~ ~
We’ve boiled potatoes and then mashed them with butter. And the same, with sweet potatoes. We’ve cut up and boiled carrots, too. They get a brown sugar coating.
We’ve opened the cans of cranberry jelly, sliding the wiggly jelly cylinders onto Christmas plates. I love the colour and think, if I can have a second favourite colour, cranberry red is it. Red, like the berries and green, like my scarf. Happy Christmas colours.
We’ve made instant gravy out of some powder and hot water, because Eira says she doesn’t have a clue how to make real gravy. Her sisters Eefa and Sorcha always do it, she says. Doesn’t matter, Gus says. It’s the turkey that’s the main event.
He, Eira and Dom bring the turkey in from Gus’ outside roaster. They unwrap the foil and inside the turkey is a buttery dark brown. It smells delicious.
The turkey goes onto a great platter and Dom carries it to the dining room table. And, with all the food arranged between us, we take our places. Dom and Gus are at the two ends. I’m sitting next to Morley and Eira is sitting across from me and next to Daisy, so she can help her cut her turkey. Daisy isn’t very good at using a dinner knife yet.
Christmas dinner starts with grace, which is a sort of prayer Eira says about being grateful for food and family and friends and sharing a happy Christmas together.
“Even if it is by candlelight,” Dom jokes, starting to carve the turkey.
“So much more romantic,” Eira says.
“A real old-fashioned Christmas,” Gus says.
“Like you had when you were a kid?” Daisy wants to know.
“Heavens, no. Like when my grandparents were kids. Except they were Jewish.”
“YOU have grandparents?” Daisy asks, looking around as if she expects two ancient people to shamble in and join us at the table. “But where are they?”
We all laugh.
“Everyone has grandparents, silly!” Morley says. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be here!”
Daisy looks annoyed, as if we’re just teasing her.
We pull the crackers and everyone except Daisy puts on their tissue paper crown. She still has her princess tiara on. She puts her crown on Feather, which he doesn’t like.
“Oh, poor Feather!” Morley says, pulling it off and giving him a cuddle. “Hats aren’t for cats!”
“Why did the hockey player on the Turkey team get sent to the penalty box?” Gus asks, reading the slip of paper that just came out of his cracker.
“For fowl play!” Daisy shouts gleefully before anyone else can answer.
“No fair, Daisy! You can’t tell the answer if you helped make it up. You’re supposed to try to guess!”
“Oh,” she says. “Let me do mine next. What’s the difference between a pirate and someone who loves cranberry sauce?”
“No idea,” Dom says, ladling lumpy gravy onto his mashed potato.
“Give up?” Daisy asks, grinning.
Dom says sure, what’s the answer?
“A pirate buries treasure and someone who just loves cranberry sauce treasures berries!”
I groan. That is just about the dumbest joke I’ve ever heard. Eira laughs and so does Gus. Morley just smiles. Daisy thinks it’s hilarious.
Morley reads hers next. “How do you make Christmas pizza?”
“You have pizza for Christmas?” I ask, and they all laugh. I guess you can have anything you want for Christmas. Even pizza. I wonder what turkey and cranberry sauce pizza would taste like.
“Oh, I know this one,” Eira says. “Christmas pizza has to be deep pan, crisp and even.”
Daisy doesn’t get it. Everyone else laughs. Then we explain the joke to her.
Daisy laughs so hard she just about falls off her chair and knocks over her glass of milk. Eira leaps up and rushes off to the kitchen to get a cloth to wipe it up.
“Never mind,” Morley says to her. “You can have my cranberry juice,” giving it to her sister and helping Eira mop up the mess. Some of the milk has dripped onto the floor, where Feather is trying to lick it up.
Dom carves more of the turkey and the end of the knife hits something hard.
The outside of the bird is cooked. But the inside is still cold.
“Oh no!” Eira says. “How did that happen!”
“You did remember to haul out the giblets, didn’t you?” Gus asks.
“Giblets?”
“Little bag with some extra turkey bits in it. Liver, kidneys, heart, that sort of thing. Folks cook them up for soups and stews. Or just to give to their pets as a treat,” Gus says. “Then they put the stuffing in the inside of the bird.”
“Giblets?” Eira says again. “But they’re still there? IN the turkey?”
Dom starts to laugh. We all do. Then we see the stricken look on Eira’s face. She really is upset.
“Sweetheart, it’s all right. There’s plenty of turkey cooked on the outside for now. And we can just, uh, cook the rest. Fry it or something. Later.”
Eira looks doubtful.
“And I bet we’ll always remember the Christmas we had to fry the bird,” Dom adds, grinning.
“After we had to cook it by burying it in the backyard,” Morley adds, because that’s what happened. It cooked in a roaster in hot coals, buried out back.
And then everyone is laughing. Even Eira.
Morley and I help her clear the plates and get the dessert. It’s Christmas pudding, which I knew about from the carols, but I always wondered what it is. I thought it might be something like the chocolate pudding cups you can take to school in your lunch. Only Christmas flavoured, whatever that is.
It’s nothing like that. Turns out it’s cake full of nuts and fruit like raisins, with rum sauce on top. Rum sauce tastes like rum and raisin ice cream. It’s really good.
Then Dom and Gus clear the table, do the dishes and put the food away.
There’s more music playing. That’s me and Eira on piano, Gus on harmonica and Dom, who has some plastics from the kitchen and two wooden spoons that he’s using for a drum set.
After that, there are more games, with everyone playing except Daisy. She’s happy colouring.
Finally, with the Christmas tree lights flickering and going out, Eira says that’s probably it, time for bed. Gus says the generator is done, at least for tonight, and he reaches to unplug it.
Dom says it’s a beautiful night, how about a walk? I’d love to say yes, let’s go out to see the stars. I want to keep this day going. I want it to go on and on and have my very first real Christmas never end.
I want to stand under those icy stars and make another wish.
I want to eat some more cookies and have another mug of hot chocolate.
I want to pull out my music notebook and write down this tune in my head, before I forget it.
But I’m so tired, I can barely make myself go brush my teeth. I don’t even remember getting into my sleeping bag. I don’t remember falling asleep or having any dreams at all.
