for you。”
I pulled off the towel； and there was my tree。 My beautiful； majestic sycamore tree。 Through
the branches he'd painted the fire of sunrise； and it
seemed to me I could feel the wind。 And way up in the tree was a tiny girl looking off into the
distance； her cheeks flushed with wind。 With joy。 With
magic。
“Don't cry； Julianna。 I want it to help you； not hurt you。” I wiped the tears from my cheeks and
gave a mighty sniff。 “Thank you； Daddy；” I choked out。
“Thank you。”
I hung the painting across the room from my bed。 It's the first thing I see every morning and
the last thing I see every night。 And now that I can look
at it without crying； I see more than the tree and what being up in its branches meant to me。
I see the day that my view of things around me started changing。
Brawk…Brawk…Brawk！
Eggs scare me。 Chickens； too。 And buddy； you can laugh at that all you want； but I'm being
dead serious here。
It started in the sixth grade with eggs。
And a snake。
And the Baker brothers。
The Baker brothers' names are Matt and Mike； but even now I can't tell you which one's
which。 You never see one without the other。 And even
though they're not twins； they do look and sound pretty much the same； and they're both in
Lyta's class； so maybe one of them got held back。
……… Page 21………
Although I can't exactly see a teacher