Moonpenny Island by Tricia Springstubb Page B

asleep, when she sits up so quickly she goes light-headed. When Perry told her “sorry about what’s going on”? He must have already known Mama was gone. Word travels fast on Moonpenny, but still. It’s wrong that he knew before she did. He’s the last person she’d pick to know her business, the last person she wants feeling sorry for her.
    Getting out of bed, she picks up Sylvie’s fossil. Jasper Fife would spout its scientific name, but a name is not the point, not with this fossil. Can you make four wishes on the very same fossil? Flor closes her eyes. Hopes so. Hopes.

Chapter Twelve
    W ithout Mama’s voice, the church choir sounds pathetic. It’s all Flor can do not to cover her ears. The islanders spread themselves around the mostly empty church, a family in this pew, an old lady in that one, the way Thomas breaks a cookie into pieces to convince himself he’s got more than he really does.
    Flor prays for Lita. Prays for Mama.
    Monday she stands in the school yard shivering. Mama would’ve checked the weather and made her wear her jacket, but instead she’s just got this flimsysweater. Thomas wears shorts and two different-colored socks. He sits on a swing, pretending to smoke a crayon. Cecilia’s with the other high schoolers, but not really. How far away is her mind? Light-years, Flor can tell.
    Still 11:16. Flor quit paying attention to that clock long ago, but today it makes her depressed. Time can’t stop—things are too messed up. Time needs to get going, move along and make things better. But the stubborn hands refuse to move. They haven’t moved in so long, some bird made her nest behind the hour hand.
    There’s an expression “No man is an island,” but apparently eleven-year-old girls can be. Being a one-hundred-percent isolated person leaves you time to notice things you missed before, when your faithful friend was forever at your side. Flor sees Lauren Long laugh, then look pointedly at Cecilia. Sees her sister’s laugh come a beat too late. Sees Lauren’s snarky look bounce to the other two girls. Sees Cecilia flush and press her lips together.
    She sees a distant flock of birds splatter the sky like dark paint. Sees Mary Long stop complainingabout her allergies long enough to scream “Don’t!” when Larry Walnut walks by, minding his own business. Sees Larry stagger and look amazed. How can he possibly not know Mary is cuckoo for him? How can she possibly be cuckoo for him? Are they both blind?
    Blindness was once a natural state. Dr. Fife says the first eye was little more than an optic nerve. Whatever that is. Eyes had to develop. Can some people’s eyes still be a more primitive variety? Can eyes still be evolving? Will future humans be able to see stuff we can’t? Like the insides of things. The hidden, secret parts?
    Jasper would know. Flor peers across the road, where the lilac bush is uninhabited, unless you count the sparrows hopping among the dried-up flowers. FREE FILL DIRT says the cemetery sign. Flor’s read it a hundred times, but never thought what it actually means, till now. Her knees go weak. Her knee muscles seem to be deteriorating. She’s cold all through. Recess must be going on longer than usual, though how can she be sure, considering the stupid clock says 11:16 no matter what?
    â€œLook what I found.”
    Flor turns around. Jocelyn Hawkins extends a hand.
    â€œA fossil,” says Flor, and can’t help but add, “It’s horn coral.”
    â€œNo. It’s a shark tooth.”
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œI found it. It’s what I say.” Casting a withering look, Jocelyn stomps over to her brother Joe, who’s using a small wrench to tighten bolts on the wooden climber. “Isn’t this a shark tooth?”
    A quick glance. “Nope. Horn coral.”
    â€œOh.” She throws it in the dirt like a piece of trash, then