SIXTEEN

I realized my magical power had not arrived when I felt Charlie licking me awake the next morning. The day of Atticus’s birthday.

“Charlie!” It was Pop-pop’s voice hollering for the dog. “Get out of there, boy. Got to feed you before the party starts or Granny’ll have my hide.”

Charlie just kept wagging his tail and licking my face. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Charlie, stop it,” I said as loudly and as quietly as I could at the same time.

“Who’s in there?” Pop-pop said.

Uh-oh.

“Whoever’s in there better come on out,” he said in his don’t-mess-with-the-farmer voice.

I wasn’t sure what to do. I could stay put and let Pop-pop come find me. But since Pop-pop was the kind of person who sometimes carried a shotgun, I decided I’d better give myself up.

I crawled out of the hay house and put my hands in the air. Pop-pop looked at me like he was seeing a ghost.

“What are you doing here, sprout?” he asked.

And that’s when I started crying.

Pop-pop sat me down on a bale of hay and then sat beside me. He patted my back while I kept on crying. There were so many tears in there, I didn’t know when it was going to stop. Charlie sat in front of me and stared up at me the whole time. His dumb sad dog eyes made me feel like crying even more.

Finally, when I started sniffing more than crying, Pop-pop asked, “Is it all out?”

“I think so,” I said back.

Pop-pop handed me his handkerchief. He always kept a folded white handkerchief in the back pocket of his jeans. I blew and blew my nose in it. “Atticus hates me and I don’t know what to do,” I said.

“Now, I doubt that,” Pop-pop said. “Don’t know exactly what happened between the two of you, but I expect you’ll work things through. That’s what best friends do.”

I looked at him through my red, teary eyes. “But I did something bad. I really hurt him, Pop-pop.”

“I got one question for you, then.” He paused, all serious-like. “Did you mean to hurt him?”

“No!” I said. “I didn’t mean to. I was actually trying to do something good, and it all went wrong. It went terribly wrong. You’ve got to believe me. I’d never want to hurt Atticus. Not ever.”

He looked at me long and hard, and then he nodded his head. “That’s all I needed to know.”

I handed Pop-pop’s handkerchief back to him. He folded it up and put it in his back pocket like it had never been used at all. Then he got up and walked to his pickup truck. Charlie, whose head had been resting on my knee, followed him. When they came back, Pop-pop was holding something in his hand.

“Found it this morning on the hill over there. Was going to give it to Atticus today, for luck. But I think you could use it more. Hold out your hand.”

I did, and he dropped a perfect green four-leaf clover into my palm. I had never had my own before. It was supposed to bring the luckiest of luck.

I sniffed one more time. “Thanks,” I said.

“You’re welcome, sprout,” he said, and clapped his hands together. We suddenly heard the bell ringing from up the hill. Pop-pop reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “She hates when I forget to turn this dang thing on.” He chuckled. “Guess it’s time for me to put out the tables and get ready for that party.”

“Oh no,” I said. “What am I going to do? Atticus can’t see me here. I’m not even invited!”

“Now that is a problem. What do you think? You want to make a splashy entrance or you want to make like the Invisible Man?”

“Invisible Man, please,” I said. No way did I want anyone to know I was there.

“Okay, then. But first things first. You’ve got to call your mother. She must be worried sick by now.”

So that’s what we did. We rode up to the farmhouse and I ducked down real low in the front seat. We passed Granny, Mr. and Mrs. Brightwell, Caroline, and Atticus setting up for the party in the front yard. Pop-pop smuggled me into the house through the back porch. He gave me a bag of party snacks and his cell phone and he sent me upstairs.

“Call your mother and I’ll be sure nobody comes upstairs,” he said.

“Especially Atticus,” I said.

“Especially him,” he said back.

As I started up the stairs, Pop-pop walked out the front door. “Where have you been?” I heard Granny say from outside. Then the door closed, and I was alone in the farmhouse.

I went into the upstairs bedroom that looked out over the front yard. Through the window, I could see the whole front of the farm. Pop-pop had started setting up tables. Mr. Brightwell was cleaning the grill. Mrs. Brightwell and Caroline were counting out paper cups and plates. Atticus was playing with Charlie.

Atticus looked different. Maybe a little taller, maybe a little older. He was eleven years old, after all. His Infinity Year was over. It was just one more thing that separated us now.

I punched in numbers on Pop-pop’s phone and put it to my ear.

My mom answered immediately. “Hello,” she said. I could tell she was upset.

“It’s me, Mom,” I said.

“Avalon, where are you?!” she said, and I thought she might be crying. “I woke up this morning and you were gone. You scared me to death.”

“Mom, I’m sorry,” I said, full of guilt. “I’m at the farm. I’m okay. I promise.”

“How did you get there?” she asked.

“I rode my bike,” I said, suddenly realizing how stupid that was. I thought it best not to tell her I did it at midnight.

“I’m coming,” she said, ready to hang up the phone.

“No, wait!” I exclaimed. “Mom, it’s Atticus’s birthday party and I can’t let him know I’m here. Could you come after? Please. Pop-pop snuck me upstairs. I promise I won’t move.”

It was really quiet on the phone while she was thinking about it.

“Please, Mom,” I said again.

I heard her blow her nose. “Okay,” she said. “We will be talking about this later.”

“I know.”

“Call me when the party’s over,” she said.

“I promise,” I said, then said good-bye and hung up the phone.

Then I pulled up a chair and started watching Atticus’s birthday party. For a while it was almost like I was at the movies. I ate my party snacks and watched the other fifth graders arrive. It seemed like all of Ms. Smith’s fifth-grade class was there. It was like no one remembered Atticus’s secret. I was glad. That made me feel better.

Nobody saw me staring down at them. I was completely invisible to them. I heard Granny and Mrs. Brightwell come inside to the kitchen every now and then, but nobody came upstairs. It was my own private show.

I watched the scavenger hunt. We had done that last year. Mrs. Brightwell gave everyone maps and they got to go find stuff like rubber swords and glow sticks in hidden places outside. Then there was a three-legged race across the front yard. Me and Atticus had won last year. This year, Atticus came in third with Adam, his new partner.

After that, it was time for lunch. Everybody sat at the long tables that Pop-pop had put out. There were hot dogs and hamburgers and potato chips and baked beans. I knew Atticus’s hamburger was really a veggie burger. While he was eating, I saw him grab one potato chip after another and slip them under the table. I imagined Charlie happily eating every one of them.

Then there was birthday cake (Atticus’s favorite was chocolate with white icing) and the birthday song. I sang along quietly when Mrs. Brightwell came out of the kitchen carrying the lit-up cake. I watched Atticus make a wish and blow out the candles. I made a wish, too.

After lunch, the adults started cleaning up while all the kids broke off into different groups to play. Charlie was acting crazy, trying to eat up all the fallen hamburgers and hot dogs before Mrs. Brightwell got them in the garbage can. I watched Atticus walk down the hill toward the front pasture with Kevin and Adam. He seemed to be having a good birthday. He didn’t seem to be missing me at all.

It wouldn’t be long now. The party would be over. My mother would pick me up, and with luck, Atticus would never even know I had been there. I looked at the four-leaf clover Pop-pop had given me. I had carefully put it on the windowsill after I called my mom. Four-leaf clovers were supposed to be lucky but maybe, I was starting to decide, there was no such thing as luck.

But …

As luck would have it, I looked up at that very moment. I saw Atticus way down the hill, in front of the gate to the front pasture. He was pointing at Frank the bull. Whatever Atticus was saying, it looked like Kevin and Adam thought it was a fantastic idea.

I knew, even from this distance, that it was not fantastic. I knew Atticus and I knew what he was thinking about doing. I knew those boys were just stupid enough to let him.

And just like that, Atticus was climbing over the fence. He was walking through the pasture toward Frank the bull. Kevin and Adam were cheering him all the way.

There was no time to think. I started to run. I ran down the stairs and out the front door, right into the open. As I flew past Mrs. Brightwell, I saw her head turn and thought I heard her call my name. There was no time to stop, though. No time to tell adults what was happening. There was only time to run.

I’d never gone down the driveway so fast before. My eyes were on Atticus the whole time. He was getting closer and closer to Frank. I could see that he was talking to him.

Didn’t Atticus know that he was not like his grandfather? Didn’t he know that this was going to end badly?

Apparently not, because Atticus walked right up to Frank and reached out to pet him. Frank’s head was down. He was eating grass. He wasn’t paying any attention to Atticus until he touched him—right on the forehead.

Frank’s head roared up. The big bull snorted. He pawed the ground then lurched forward. Frank butted Atticus right in the stomach.

And Atticus went flying.

I was over the fence by then. I was past Kevin and Adam before they knew what was happening. I was on my way to Atticus, but so was Frank. And there was no doubt in my mind—Frank was going to get there first.

I didn’t know what to do. Atticus wasn’t my best friend anymore so I didn’t have my Infinity Year power. I couldn’t save him.

But then I had a crazy thought. What if my Infinity Year wasn’t over? Just because Atticus was mad at me didn’t mean we weren’t best friends anymore. He was still my best friend. No matter what he thought.

I remembered the zoo and how Toby the gorilla seemed to hear me when I talked to him with my mind. I remembered how M had heard my thoughts, too. And then I felt it. At first, deep inside, like those other times, and then, like a wave cresting and breaking in the ocean, unstoppable and undeniable, I felt my Infinity Year power sweep through me. Huge, powerful, and not about to let my best friend get hurt by some dumb bull.

Frank had reached Atticus now. He was starting to paw at him.

“FRANK!” I yelled.

M had heard me. Toby had heard me. And I knew, I just knew, that Frank the bull was going to hear me, too. Once I stopped yelling like an idiot and used my power correctly.

With every ounce of Infinity Year mind-talk power that I had, I told Frank, Stop it right now! You turn around and look at me!

And amazingly, Frank did. Without me saying a word, that bull just turned around and looked my way.

Frank was even bigger than Toby and there were no bars between us. We just stood there staring at each other. Frank was breathing real hard through his big nostrils. I was breathing real hard through my little ones. I saw Atticus on the ground on the other side of Frank. He wasn’t moving.

I looked toward the fence and saw Adam’s and Kevin’s shocked faces. Behind them, Mrs. Brightwell was running down the driveway. She would get to Atticus. She would make sure he was okay. I just had to get that darn bull away from him.

Frank lowered his head and started beating the ground with one of his hooves.

Oh no, I thought. I looked behind me.

I couldn’t go back the way I came. Mrs. Brightwell was coming through the gate to rescue Atticus. I had to go the other way—the long way across the pasture to the fence on the other side. It was a football field long. And I knew I wasn’t going to be fast enough.

But I didn’t care.

“Come on, Frank!” I yelled (this time with my mind and my mouth), and started running.

The grass was tall and it slapped at my legs, but I didn’t really feel it. I looked back. Frank had taken the bait. He was following me. Good.

Or bad. Because Frank was really fast, and he was starting to charge down the field after me. He looked mad, too. I ran faster, but every time I looked back, he was getting closer. I realized I was not going to make it to the fence in time.

I was not going to outrun Frank the bull.

Frank the bull was going to outrun me.

I don’t know if it was because of the four-leaf clover on the windowsill or Atticus’s acorn in my pocket, but Luck finally showed his face to me. After all this time. And wouldn’t you know it, he looked just like Charlie the dog.

From out of nowhere, that dog darted right between me and that bull. Charlie distracted Frank just long enough for me to make it to the fence. Even though my legs felt full of jelly, I climbed up to the top and looked back just in time to see Atticus being carried out of the pasture.

And just in time to see Frank the bull look at me—like he knew he just got beat by a ten-year-old girl.

I smiled.

Then I fell.

That was the last thing I remembered.