{"product_id":"blue-birds-isbn-9780147511874","title":"Blue Birds","description":"\u003cb\u003eAuthor of the critically acclaimed \u003ci\u003eMay B.\u003c\/i\u003e returns with a stirring novel in verse.\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAlis and her parents make the long journey from England to settle the New World. But it doesn't go as planned and Alis, her parents, and the others of their small community soon find themselves at odds with the Roanoke tribe. As tensions rise between the settlers and the Native peoples, twelve-year-old Alis forms an impossible friendship with a Roanoke named Kimi. Despite language barriers, the two become as close as sisters, risking their lives for one another until Alis makes a decision that will change her life forever.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003e“An excellent historical offering and belongs on public and school library shelves.”—\u003ci\u003eVOYA\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“With two compelling main characters and an abundance of rich historical detail, Rose’s latest novel offers much to discuss and much to appreciate.”—\u003ci\u003eSchool Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cu\u003ePraise for\u003ci\u003e Blue Birds\u003c\/i\u003e:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/u\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“Composed in varying formats, the descriptive and finely crafted poems reveal the similarities the two girls share, from loved ones lost to hatred between the English and the Roanoke to a desire for peace… Fans of Karen Hesse and the author's May B. (2012) will delight in this offering.”—\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eKirkus Reviews \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“A memorable account of a friendship that transcends culture and prejudice.”—\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“An excellent historical offering and belongs on public and school library shelves.”—\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eVOYA\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“With two compelling main characters and an abundance of rich historical detail, Rose’s latest novel offers much to discuss and much to appreciate.”—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eSchool Library Journal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“An imaginative historical novel with two sympathetic protagonists.”—\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eBooklist \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“Themes of fear and freedom will appeal to a wide audience.”—\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eSLC \u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cb\u003eCaroline Starr Rose\u003c\/b\u003e (www.carolinestarrrose.com) is the author of critically acclaimed \u003ci\u003eMay B.\u003c\/i\u003e \u003ci\u003eBlue Birds\u003c\/i\u003e is her second novel. She's taught both social studies and English in New Mexico, Florida, Virginia, and Louisiana. In her classroom she worked to instill in her students a passion for books, an enthusiasm to experiment with words, and a curiosity about the past. Caroline lives in New Mexico with her husband and two sons.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFollow her on Twitter @CStarrRose .\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eJuly 1587\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlmost three months we’ve journeyed,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eeach wave pushing us farther\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efrom London,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eevery day moving us closer\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto Virginia.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut now we’re anchored on sandy banks\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein a place we’re not to be.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe enormity of our circumstance\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecomes crashing down around us.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThough this is Virginia,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eit’s not our new home.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe will be forced ashore\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emiles from where\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eour pilot, Ferdinando,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epromised to take us.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eYet our Governor\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edoes nothing to stop him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHow ready I am to leave this ship,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003estretch my legs, be free!\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut not like this,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etossed out\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elike yesterday’s rubbish.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFather stands in the pinnace,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eholds his hand to me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Come, Alis.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI step into the smaller boat,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eless steady,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eless sturdy.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMother eases in,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecradling her belly,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eperspiration at her temples,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eher once-starched collar\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edingy and askew.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“What will we do?” Mother whispers.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHer cheek rests on Father’s shoulder.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“How will we reach the land\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethat’s been promised us?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“We’ll find my brother and his men.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eUncle.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI grasp the wooden bird\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein my pocket.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI did not dream\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof seeing him so soon.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSurely he and the other soldiers\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewill set things right,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003espeak sense to Ferdinando.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMaybe he has already\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecaught sight of the boats,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewill welcome us onshore.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBefore me is a place\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efew Englishmen have ever seen.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI lean over the bow,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etry to will the pinnace faster\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto trees pointing heavenward,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea flock of cranes rippling the sky.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMother grasps my plait,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003egives my hair a tug.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Careful,” she says.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe boat cuts through the water\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eas wind snaps our sails,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003erocks us with each wave\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etoward land heavy with trees,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethick with darkness.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe mysterious island,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eRoanoke.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe pinnace drops anchor,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand that savage, Manteo,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eoffers me his hand,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe Indian who came to England\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith the Governor\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eafter his first voyage here.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI shake my head,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor even though he’s lived in London\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand dresses as we do,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’ve seen the hair as long as a woman’s\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehe hides underneath his hat.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI will not let him touch me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy steps are uncertain\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eafter our ocean crossing,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand when I stumble in the sand,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI ignore Manteo’s amused smile,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003echoose not to stand but sit and watch\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe scramble of people,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe rising tide,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe pinnace already making its way\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eback to the ships\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor the last of us.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI scan the banks for Uncle Samuel,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebut he is nowhere.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Governor bids us to follow him\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eacross the sandy beach.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMarsh grass swishes against my skirts.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLondon’s crowded streets\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esmelled of rot and filth.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’d hold my breath, \u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003erace my friend\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edown Fish Street to London Bridge.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNeither Joan nor I ever made it\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewithout pulling in deep gulps of air\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eas putrid as death.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHere,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edamp wood mingles\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith the warm sea breeze.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe forest rises up,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etakes us in,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand in the woods,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003escattered all around,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epink flowers,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003estarred yellow in their centers,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etremble with each footstep.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI pluck a jaunty bloom,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etuck it behind my ear.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEven on summer days\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe London light was weak,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efighting soot and drizzling clouds.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHere,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esunlit patches\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecut through highest branches,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea brilliant red bird wings above.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHer sharp notes climb up,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003espiral down.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIn London stray dogs roam in mangy coats\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003escrounging for a scrap of meat.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHere,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewaves lap the shore,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecrabs dance across the sand,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eberry bushes reach as high\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eas entryways at Bishop’s Gate.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhat a strange and wondrous place!\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eKIMI\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThey crash through the forest.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI crouch behind trees,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewatching\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eas they\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003estumble\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethrough underbrush.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNever did I think\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethese strange ones would return.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eYet here they are again.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSome think\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethey are spirits back from the dead.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSome say\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethey have invisible weapons\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethat strike with sickness after they’ve gone.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFather\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esaid they were people\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elike us, only\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith different ways.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut how can I believe him?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFather\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eis dead.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAhead,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epeople gather in a clearing.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe must be near the settlement\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhere a few soldiers\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elay claim for England.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eLast year,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhen Uncle left us,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehe promised we wouldn’t long be parted.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAfter his time in the Queen’s service,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehe’d be home again.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHow surprised he’ll be\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto learn we’ve come!\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI want to run ahead,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eclutch him in a hug,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eshow him how faithfully\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’ve kept his wooden bird.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut my legs are unsteady.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSurely Mother needs me near.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe baby we await\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efatigues her so easily.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHer face is worn.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHer golden hair\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etumbles loose about her shoulders,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand I lace my arm through hers,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emaybe hurry her more than she would wish,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebut gently,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eso as not to tire her more.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eGovernor White and his assistants draw together.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAll about us\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewords clash and climb\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003euntil the Governor calls for silence.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTwo men break away from the Governor’s side.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe says they’ll go ahead,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eenter the settlement through the gate.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEven though I shouldn’t,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI release Mother’s arm,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edrop my bundle at her feet.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Alis!” she calls,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebut I pretend I cannot hear her,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor I must find Uncle.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI skirt the crowd.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA fluttering blue bird draws me—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eone with plumes as lavish as a gown.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI pray it leads me to him,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emy uncle,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewho knows so much of wild things,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebut the bird escapes me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSomehow\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’ve run\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efar beyond the others.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSomehow\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’ve reached a ditch\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eencircling an earthen barrier—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eone ring inside another,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elike the moat surrounding London Wall.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIt isn’t hard to slip down the ditch’s side,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003escale the embankment within,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand I’m in the settlement—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eif this place could be called that—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith homes empty,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edeer wandering through open doors,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003evines twisting about windows.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTwo of our men walk about,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eone towering over the other,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhose nose is a mountain\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof lumps and bumps.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI step back from view,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003estumble,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efall into a heap of ash,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe charred remains of a building.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA scream\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eclaws at my throat.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBleached bones\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elitter the ground.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003estomach\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003erebels.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI clutch my skirts,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003erun back\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto the others.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI slip into the crowd,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ecareful to keep near its edge,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhere I won’t be so easily seen.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut no one has noticed my absence,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor all are focused on Governor White.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTwice he’s come to Virginia\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto map the land,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epaint the creatures who live here,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edetermine where our city would someday be.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOur Governor knows this island\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebetter than any Englishman,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand remembering this brings relief.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe are secure\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith him near.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“George Howe Sr. and Roger Bailie\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehave surveyed the settlement,” he says.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“It has been\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eempty\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor some\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etime.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Empty?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esomeone shouts.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“What of the soldiers?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eanother says.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA woman wails.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Who will help us now?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThose bones were nothing more\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethan seashells, I tell myself,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe remnants of a deer.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Governor’s beard is grayer\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethan when we first left England.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe worries his cap in his hands.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“We are unsure what has happened,” he says.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe enormous man\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI saw within the settlement\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhispers to the Governor.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI see him stiffen.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Mr. Howe says\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethere is a building\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eburned\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto its foundation,”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eGovernor White says slowly,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“the\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebones\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof a\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eman.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eUncle is safe,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI think the same words over and over,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etrying to unsee, unhear\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethis horror.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBut dread surges through me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Governor knows nothing\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emore than the rest of us.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Governor studies his daughter,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMrs. Dare, heavy with child.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Ferdinando’s promised\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto leave us the pinnace.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFor now we will rebuild,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003estay through the fall and winter,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand when spring comes,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewe’ll sail to Chesapeake\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand establish the City of Ralegh.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFather’s eyes are troubled.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Someone is dead.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eDoes this not concern you?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd what of the other soldiers?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSurely we should search for them.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Indian speaks.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Perhaps my people know something.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThey live on Croatoan,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003enot far from here.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Governor nods his head\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etoo vigorously.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFather presses his lips together.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI know how he thinks:\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Governor’s too hasty\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto claim the pinnace.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe should force Ferdinando to take us farther.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe’s too quick\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto trust the soldiers are elsewhere, safe.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Mr. Howe will lead us in,” Governor White says.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe other assistants step aside.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMr. Howe,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith fingers big as sausages, points ahead.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe strides toward the village,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhere Uncle\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eis meant to be.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe deer scatter.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe abandoned buildings\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehold fast their secrets.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMy thoughts fly to Mother.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI scold myself for leaving her\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith two sets of things to carry\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand push back through the throng\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003euntil I’m outside the village again.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe sun has brightened her cheeks;\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eshe tries to pin her hair.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Mother!” I shout,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand she looks to me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Where have you been?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd what’s this on your skirt?”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe dusts my dress,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eshaking her head,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eushers me to the settlement.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI touch my ear,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ediscover my flower is missing.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOver my shoulder,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI study the ground behind me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIn the midst of the forest,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esomething shifts\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elike a branch might in a breeze.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA shadow flits between the trees.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis is no bird.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNo wind stirs the leaves.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSomething\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elurks\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein the woods.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eKIMI\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNever\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehave there been\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewomen or children.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe first men, they came\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith tools and gifts, left\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith Wanchese and Manteo\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ejourneying to their distant world.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe second ones came\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith friendship that turned bitter,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith illness,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewith drought,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eeating our seed corn,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebeheading Father,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWingina,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eour weroance,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eleader of the Roanoke.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe third ones,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eso few in number,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eweren’t here long\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebefore Wanchese did away with them.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’ve always thought\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethey were a people\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof only men.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eKIMI\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe woman\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eembraces one\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewho must be\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eher daughter.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHow plain they are!\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNo copper at their ears.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI touch the pearls about my neck,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003etheir beauty still new to me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe girl turns her head,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eher eyes,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elight as the rain-rinsed sky,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esearch the wood.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI step back\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003einto\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003edarkness.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eKIMI\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eA woman.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHer daughter.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHolding each other.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlawa,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emy sister,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhat would you think\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto see the English\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eact so tenderly?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe settlement is not remarkable—\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea tiny village flanked with four earthen walls,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eone with the gate,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe other three with stations,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elike turrets on a castle.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eInside we find\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elast year’s forgotten garden\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand empty animal pens,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea small collection of cottages\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eset about an open square,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea large building used as barracks\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eby the soldiers sent to claim this land,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEngland’s presence in the New World.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBeyond these buildings are\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea jail,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea chapel,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe armory,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efarther still the forge.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThough most structures are intact,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eneglect has left its mark.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMore homes must be erected\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor the families here.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAfter a hasty service,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe bones are covered in a grave.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMen cart the scorched remains\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eof the burned building,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhere the soldiers stored provisions.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSome of the boys hack at the vines\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eencircling the abandoned cottages.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eIn the square,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe women cluster in a knot.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“For months, the Governor\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003enever spoke against that Ferdinando,”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epinched-lipped Mrs. Archard says.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“And we’re the ones who have to pay.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Governor should have forced him\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto stop at those nearby islands\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efor the livestock and fruit he promised.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe Governor should have refused\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto leave the ship,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003einsisted we sail to Chesapeake.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“But we cannot change that now,” Mrs. Dare says,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand I study her rounded frame.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhen will her baby join us:\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebefore or after Mother’s child comes?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“I wonder if our spiteful pilot\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewill let us gather all our things,” Mrs. Archard says.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Weeks it took to pack those ships.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWeeks again we’ll need.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI wouldn’t be a mite surprised\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eif he sailed away come nightfall.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eMother touches Mrs. Archard’s arm.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“The Governor will make things right,” Mother says,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebut the woman’s face loses none of its harsh angles.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe tries to comfort Mrs. Archard,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebut I’m the one\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewho needs her reassurance.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eUncle Samuel,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eFather’s only brother,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehas lived with us forever.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis year apart is the only one\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI’ve ever known without him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhere has he gone?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOnly bones\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewere here\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto greet us.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eTwo boys scuffle over an axe,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eanother carries vines that spill from his arms.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe vine boy’s eyes find mine;\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eswift as a pickpocket,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehe moves away.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI linger, observing him,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehis head a mess of curls.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eEverywhere I look\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eit’s men,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewomen,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eboys.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThere is\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eno one\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehere\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003elike me.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAnd Uncle,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe one\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eso dear to me,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehas disappeared.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Alis?” Mother calls.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eShe’s gone ahead,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebustling toward the buildings.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eNo word of tenderness,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eno glance that says she shares my worries.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“Please gather our things.”\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI reach for our bundles,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehug them to my chest so tightly,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eno one can hear me cry.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe find Father bent over a fire\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein the ironmonger’s shed,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ealready working metal\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003esalvaged from the ruins.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHis hammer sings,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehigh and piercing,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand I run to him,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efold into him.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHe drops his hammer,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epulls Mother close,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eand the three of us huddle\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eas a flurry of activity\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003econtinues outside.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“We are here.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe are safe.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWe will find Samuel,” he says.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI clutch my wooden bird,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eone of the three Uncle whittled\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ejust before he left,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe second safe with Joan,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe last one his own.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAlis\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e“It’s a bird of Virginia,” Uncle said.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eHis hands pressed the carving into mine.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThough its wooden body is brown as a sparrow’s,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI imagine sapphire wings,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ea patch of rust spread above its curved white middle,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ejust like the painting Uncle has described.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe graceful bird,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eits wings rest so daintily.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThis Uncle Samuel promised me:\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eBirds return home\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eno matter how far they fly.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eOne set free might wander\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebut will eventually rejoin his flock.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAt first,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI believed this was Uncle’s pledge\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto return to me,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebut when Father said we too\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewould go to Virginia,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI thought of this:\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eWhat if a flight of birds\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efollowed the wandering one,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ejoining him on a journey\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eentirely new?\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eSince setting sail\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emy secret wish has been\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethat Uncle’s joy\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewould be so great,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehe’d forget England\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ewhen his service was done.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eInstead he’d make his home Virginia,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003efly\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto the City of Ralegh,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto us,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ehis family.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eKIMI\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe whispers among my people began\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe first time the English came.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThey grew to angered shouts:\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eThe English have great power,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003emightier than we have seen\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ein the agile deer,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe arrows of our enemies,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethe angry hurricane.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eAble to blot out the sun.\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eKIMI\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eI run the well-worn path\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ebeyond the stalks of beans and corn,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003ethrough the slender poles of the palisade,\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003epast the longhouses\u003c\/p\u003e\u003cp\u003eto Wanchese.\u003c\/p\u003e","brand":"Puffin Books","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46303855739109,"sku":"NP9780147511874","price":10.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780147511874.jpg?v=1767722826","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/blue-birds-isbn-9780147511874","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}