A Snicker of Magic: Chapters 8–12

Day’s radio was broken, he said, so he’d decided to serenade us. His voice crackled as loud as old radio speakers when he sang, and I kinda liked the sound.

“I already know what paradigm is.” He traced his finger across the inky-purple spikes of the letters. Paradigm was a fun word to collect; it copied along the ceiling of the Pickled Jalapeño over and over. Same word, but it spun out at least a hundred different ways before it finally dissolved.

And as I pictured it, my heart dropped somewhere in the vicinity of my belly button.

“It’s a word I’ve never seen out and about before, not on any other person ever. Splendiferous. That’s your word. It’s yellow with six legs and it’s crawling up your arm.”
“Splendiferous, huh?” Jonah glanced down at his arm, even though he couldn’t see anything. “I like that. Tell it to stay for a while, okay?”

Jonah must have seen the surprise in my eyes, because he said, “Decent size house, huh?”

“Oliver created a special formula that makes the ice cream stay cold for at least twenty-four hours even if it isn’t in a freezer. His invention revolutionized the world of frozen novelties.”

I pictured Oliver as a cantankerous old millionaire sitting in a dark office in the farthest corner of that expensive stone house.

Felicity is plumb adorable.

Jonah never seemed embarrassed over his words. Not that those were his words. I was certain Charlie Sue Hancock was elaborating. Mega elaborating. Elaborating to the ten-thousandth degree of elaboration.

I took them to the recycling center and saved up all the change and eventually I had enough money to build a little school for some kids in Haiti. My uncle is a missionary there and he’s always sending me letters about the dreams he’s working on.

I scribbled furiously in my blue book:
Becoming
Halcyon
Ravel
Serendipity
Summer

I scribbled furiously in my blue book:
Becoming
Halcyon
Ravel
Serendipity
Summer

People buy it by the gallon because it helps them remember. The problem is that you don’t know what kind of memory this ice cream’s going to dredge up.

“Jonah says you’d like to know about the Beedle.”
“And the Brothers Threadbare,” I said, trying to sound casual.

As sure as I live and breathe, there was a hot air balloon swooping back and forth across the sunrise. I staggered outside just in time to see it crash-land in my front yard, honest truth.

“Virgil Duncan is not a weatherman. He’s a meddling old farmer with a transmitter in his barn.”

“The Honeycutts used to own it, but they’d all passed away and the factory was going under. Eldee said they should buy it and spruce it up again.”

“Cursed to wander through the night,
Till cords align, and all's made right.
Where sweet amends are made and spoken,
Shadows dance, the curse is broken.”

But I like to think the Weatherly brothers tried to figure it out. They tried to make things right. So many squabbles seem stupid and silly as you get older.

Some miracles are big and flashy, and others are sweet and simple.

A beard is a gnarly place for a pastry to reside.

Screaming is Frannie’s involuntary reaction to most things.

He was as thin as a zipper, with scruffy blond hair and stubble along his jawline.

I spun around and narrowed my eyes to try and assess whether or not he had any criminal potential.

I could hear a rasp in her voice that I’d never heard before.

Suddenly, the van lurched a hard left so fast that Frannie smooshed into Boone, and I smooshed into the window.

He sat up taller in his seat and nodded, just once. Affirmative.

The wings were made of wire and gauzy camouflage.

There are no fish in the water, but when I stand on the shore, I see a bunch of fish-shaped words. In case Jonah asks, so far I’ve seen: depth, breadth, snorkel, submarine, subterfuge, slick, gilleyboom.

In case Jonah asks, so far I’ve seen: depth, breadth, snorkel, submarine, subterfuge, slick, gilleyboom.

Mama didn’t trip or stumble, not even when the ground was covered with moss and brambles.

Patches of sunshine streamed down through the forest canopy, falling over us in sudden waterfalls of light.

I watched leaves twirl down from the high places. Words came twirling toward us, too:
Becoming
Unfurling
Bloom up
Bright and fine

Mama slowed down to help me navigate a steep incline.

“Life’s always an adventure for us, June Bug. We’ve got rambling hearts. We gotta keep moving, right?”