The Theory of Hummingbirds

by Michelle Kadarusman

  “Okay,” I said to Levi. “Your turn.”

  Levi stepped up with the screwdriver and began to fiddle the lock with it. I thought I could actually hear our hearts beating.

  Suddenly we heard a thump from inside the closet. We jumped back. More thumping was coming from behind the closet door. Then the closet door was opening! A slice of light appeared.

  The door opened wider and Levi screamed.

  “Shhh, shhh, children, children, it’s okay.” It was Ms. Sharma. “Nothing to be frightened of. It’s just me.”

  It took us a little while to focus. Ms. Sharma sat down inside the big closet, legs crossed, on a large comfortable cushion. She was smiling at us. There was a little nightlight plugged into the socket in the closet and we could see the walls were pasted with scenery posters—mountains, ocean, and trees. It was beautiful in there. It smelled of incense, the same sandalwood incense that Alisha burns in her apartment. It was the smell I had detected the first time I snooped in Ms. Sharma’s office.

  “This is my meditation closet,” she said. “Here,” she added, reaching for my hand. “Help me up.”

  Ms. Sharma climbed out of her closet and switched on the lights to her office. She was barefoot. “I’m sorry if I frightened you,” said Ms. Sharma. “Were you worried?”

  “We, we, we…” Levi was having trouble getting his words out.

  I felt Levi’s back to make sure he was still breathing.

  “We saw you go into your office and disappear,” I said. “We…we thought there must be some kind of—” Then it was my turn to be stuck. I cleared my throat. “We thought there was a wormhole to another dimension in the supply closet.”

  Levi handed her the note.

  Ms. Sharma chuckled. “I guess you could call it that,” she said. “But not quite.”

  She put a hand on each of our shoulders. “I meditate. It is an important daily practice for me. Since I had my baby, it is hard to get peace and quiet at home. And once the baby has gone to sleep, I am too tired. So you see, I had this idea to make a meditation closet here.”

  “But it was locked,” said Levi.

  “Yes, I have a little latch inside,” she said. “So I won’t be disturbed.”

  Levi and I exchange looks. Disturbing her is exactly what we had done.

  “We’re sorry,” I said.

  “Are we in trouble?” asked Levi.

  Ms. Sharma shook her head. “No, but you know that entering a teacher’s office without permission is not allowed, yes?” She reached for the screwdriver and gently released it from Levi’s grip. “Not to mention taking things from the janitor’s closet and tampering with locks.”

  Levi gulped. “It was my fault,” he spluttered. “It was all my idea.”

  “You are good children,” she said. “I know you didn’t mean any harm.” She smiled. “But promise me you will come and ask me directly next time you think I am being transported to another world.” She giggled. “Okay?”

  We nodded.

  “Okay, out for lunch now,” she said, slipping her feet into her shoes. She ushered us toward the library exit. “Who ever said the library was boring?”

  As we were leaving, Ms. Sharma put her hand on Levi’s arm. “By the way, Levi,” she said. “What’s the difference between science fiction and nonfiction?”

  “Facts,” Levi mumbled to his feet.

  “No. The real difference is made by curious minds like yours,” she said. “People who have no boundary to their curiosity. People who are brave enough to imagine, to explore, to invent, and to find answers. Isaac Asimov, the famous author and scientist, said, ‘Today’s science fiction is tomorrow’s science fact.’ Remember, less than one hundred years ago, a book about exploring space would have been science fiction.” She smiled at us. “Maybe nothing is impossible, given enough time.”

  We left the library and stood out in the hall. To my surprise, when I turned to look at Levi, he had a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

  “You’re not disappointed?” I asked him.

  Levi shook his head with a goofy smile on his face, which was contagious, because I felt myself begin to smile back. Maybe it was from the excitement of our first break-and-enter crime. Or maybe it was the weirdness of finding our librarian barefoot in the supply closet. Or maybe we were in shock or something, but we both started to giggle. Pretty soon we were doubled over, our sides aching, delirious with laughter. We couldn’t stop. Bent over, bumping into each other, hysterical. We laughed and laughed until we couldn’t breathe.

  And after a while, once I had caught my breath again, I stood up and realized what was so funny.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  The Hummingbird Theory

  “Well, cowgirl,” said Dr. Schofield. “I’ve got to tell you that I am very impressed with the rehab you have managed to do in such a short amount of time.”

  Mom and I were in the doctor’s office. He was examining Cleo.

  “The race is in two days,” I said.

  “I know,” he said. Dr. Schofield looked up at me. “The good news,” he said, “is that you can participate in the race.” He paused. “But perhaps not in the way you hoped. Even though you have done a fine job strengthening and stretching your muscles and working on your balance, it is just too soon to run for such a long distance. It would be too strenuous. It has only been two weeks. By the end of the summer you will be able to run for a good long distance. But a two-kilometer race at this stage is just too soon.”

  I didn’t say anything, I just nodded.

  “I will send a note to your school recommending that you walk the race for up to one kilometer.”

  I nodded again and felt Mom’s hand on the top of my head.

  “It might not be the exact news you were hoping for, Alba, but I want you to know that the work you have done to get your foot and leg in this shape is remarkable,” he said. “You should be very proud of yourself.”

  “We are very proud,” said Mom.

  I listened to the words and nodded, and tried to keep the good and bad news balanced in my head so the tears wouldn’t spill out.

  ***

  On race day I woke up super early. It was warm. Warm enough to wear shorts. I got dressed and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked at my mismatched legs in the orange trainers, and I pictured Miranda’s perfect long, brown legs coming out of the same shoes.

  Coach Adams had mapped out a walking route for me after Dr. Schofield sent a note saying that I could only walk the race. Coach Adams drew me a walking circuit around the school, and he said it should have me at the finish line at around the same time as the final runners.

  “You’ll need a walking buddy,” he said. “School rules.”

  “I’m working on it,” I told him.

  Before I got to school I dropped by Levi’s house. He opened the door and smiled. “Hey,” he said. “Want some breakfast?”

  “Not if it’s porridge,” I said, following him into the kitchen. It smelled of pancakes.

  Levi sliced a banana on top of my pancake and poured maple syrup all over it. We sat together at the kitchen table eating our breakfast. A copy of A Brief History of Time sat next to Levi’s plate.

  “I’m sorry I said the wormhole was a stupid idea. It wasn’t stupid. I’m sorry I called you a nerd.” I pointed to his book. “Ms. Sharma is right,” I said. “One day it will be you writing something like that. And that’s not weird at all. It’s cool. ”

  Levi smiled. “Thanks,” he said. Then he looked at me sheepishly. “I shouldn’t have been so unsupportive about you wanting to be in the race,” he said. “That’s the word my mom used.”

  “Actually, that’s kind of why I came this morning,” I told him. “I have a favor to ask you.”

  I told Levi that I was going to walk the race. I showed him the map that Coach Adams had
made me.

  “So I told Coach Adams that I would ask if you could be the timekeeper instead of me. I know it means you need to be outside, but it’s not for very long. Can you do it?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said.

  “Levi, I should never have said that you were scared to go outside,” I said. “It was mean. Don’t let that be the reason, okay? Please?”

  “Sorry,” was all he would say.

  At race time Levi could not be found. I helped Coach Adams hand out the running bibs.

  All of the runners lined up at the starting line, jostling each other. The youngest kids were in the front and the older ones at the back. Everyone was so excited that Coach Adams had to blow his whistle three times for quiet. The teachers who were running moved among the crowd, trying to get the kids to simmer down. Principal Ibrahim held up a megaphone and a race gun.

  “Are we ready?” she called, and the crowd cheered and then eventually grew silent.

  “Get ready! Get set!” she paused. “Go!”

  The kids tumbled past us in a jumble of arms and legs. When the last runner had finally straggled by I made my way to the school gate to meet up with my walking buddies. Mom was there waiting. She handed me the leashes.

  “This is Alfred and this is Smelly,” I said to Coach Adams.

  He bent down and gave each dog a pat. “Well, I guess eight legs beat two,” he said, looking up and giving us a wink.

  “They’ll take good care of her,” said Mom. “Don’t worry.”

  Coach Adams nodded and smiled. “I’m sure they will,” he said. “Do you have your map?” he asked, turning to me. I patted my pocket where it sat folded up next to my hummingbird story.

  “Okay, you’re all set, Alba,” he said, giving me a high-five. “See you at the finish line!”

  I held a leash in each hand and started off at a good pace. I kept walking and didn’t look back at Mom and Coach Adams. I knew they were still watching me.

  It was a beautiful day. Even though I was walking, and not running with all the other kids, it felt good to be in the race. It wasn’t how I imagined it would be, but I had worked hard for it. Cleo was stronger every day, but it still didn’t take long for me to get tired and for my blisters to start hurting.

  “Let’s slow down,” I said to the dogs, once the school was out of sight. I hopped on my good foot every now and again to take the weight off the blisters. At the bottom of the first hill, before the street curved, I saw a familiar figure. It was Levi. He was standing by the path, holding out a bottle of water like you see volunteers do at marathons.

  I stopped to take the bottle. “Is this why you couldn’t be timekeeper?”

  “I thought you would need proper hydration,” he said.

  I bumped my shoulder against his and he looked at his feet.

  “How far is it?” he asked, giving his inhaler a nervous pat. “Maybe I’ll come along.”

  I pulled out the map. “Here, you can be navigator,” I said, which pepped him up a lot.

  We speed-walked—or tried to—with Levi barking out the directions loudly. We had finally reached the halfway point when I said to Levi, “Hey, thanks for sending me the story.”

  “What story?” said Levi.

  “The hummingbird story,” I said.

  Levi shook his head. “I didn’t,” he said.

  “Really?” I said. “That’s so weird.” Then I realized it made perfect sense.

  “Tell it to me,” he said.

  And so, for the rest of the way, we walked and I told Levi the hummingbird story.

  At the end of the story Levi clapped and I took a bow.

  “That’s awesome,” he said.

  “Levi,” I said. “What is the Theory of Everything?”

  Levi started to walk again, his head down, thinking. “The Theory of Everything is the ultimate goal of science,” he said. “It’s a single theory that will describe the entire universe.”

  “Well, I think I have my own theory,” I said. “The Theory of Hummingbirds.”

  Levi raised his eyebrows.

  “Well, hummingbirds don’t sit around moaning about their tiny feet and the fact that they can’t walk. Hummingbirds don’t sit on their perch worrying they are too small to make a difference in the world. They don’t care that the entire animal kingdom is bigger than them. Like the hummingbird in the story, she just does what she can.”

  Levi was nodding. “So what’s the theory?” he asked.

  “The Theory of Hummingbirds,” I said, “is to just be who you are and do the best you can.” I stopped walking and tapped my head to think some more. “No, wait. LOVE who you are and LOVE what you can do.”

  Levi gave me a nod of approval. “I like it,” he said. “A lot.”

  I’d been so absorbed with our conversation that it had taken my mind off how much Cleo was hurting. Now we could see the school and some runners arriving from the other direction and streaming through the gates.

  “Look,” said Levi, pointing ahead.

  Someone was jumping up and down and waving to us from the school entrance.

  “It’s Miranda,” I said. Miranda was clapping and jumping and gesturing to us.

  “Should we go for it?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” said Levi, raising a fist in the air, “is impossible!”

  We picked up our walking pace until we reached Miranda. She high-fived us. “You guys are doing great!” She said. “Come on! Just a little way to the finish! Let’s go!” She jogged alongside us. I sped up a little until I was jogging with Levi and Miranda toward the finish line. The dogs got excited and pulled me along.

  Then I wasn’t jogging, I was running.

  I was running and laughing, and bumping shoulders with the other runners, just like I had pictured in my mind on practice day when I had watched Miranda win.

  As the finish line got closer and closer I could hear more people cheering and clapping. My heart was pounding and Cleo was screaming and my blisters were burning, but I was really doing it. I was not watching the race, I was in the race.

  I dropped the leashes and raised my arms as we crossed the finish line. Then I collapsed, out of breath, on the grass, still laughing. Levi flung himself on the ground next to me. He took a pump of his inhaler. “I’m never doing that again,” he gasped, making me laugh even harder. We rolled around on the cool grass, laughing and gulping for air. The dogs bounced around us, licking our faces and yipping.

  “We did it!” I shouted up at the sky.

  Miranda sat on the grass with us, petting the dogs. She giggled when the dogs licked her face. She was wearing the winner ribbon.

  “Hey, great race,” she told me. “Nice finish.” She smiled and pointed at our matching trainers. “Nice shoes!”

  “Thanks,” I said, sitting up. I gripped Miranda’s hand and pumped her arm up and down. “Congratulations,” I said, pointing to her ribbon.

  “Oh, thanks,” she said with a shrug. “But, it’s nothing compared to you.” She paused. “I heard you tell the coach that day that you wanted to race. I thought you were so brave.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry. It’s dumb. I just never knew how to talk to you. I was embarrassed or scared that I would upset you or something. I was never laughing at you, I promise.”

  “I know. You’re not dumb,” I said. “It’s my fault. I’ve been kind of a jerk lately.”

  We sat shaking hands and looking at each other. Then Miranda took her winner ribbon from her own t-shirt and stuck it onto mine. She was either the nicest person on the planet and wanted to be my friend or she wanted me to quit pumping her arm so hard.

  “Do you want to help me walk the dogs after school sometimes?” I asked her.

  Miranda face lit up. “That would be awesome,” she said. “Thanks.”

  “I’ve got to go now,�
� she said, standing up and pointing to her friends. “But I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

  “Great!” I said. “See you tomorrow.” I stood up and waved good-bye. When I helped Levi to his feet, he was breathing fine again.

  “Are you okay?” I asked him.

  He nodded. “Never better,” he said, stretching his arms out wide and looking up to the sky. “As a matter of fact I feel surprisingly good.”

  Once we were on our feet, we saw my mom and Levi’s mom clapping in the stands. Then I noticed that Dr. Schofield was there too. He was cheering and clapping like his life depended on it. They all came down from the stands to join us.

  “That was impressive!” Dr. Schofield said. He bent down next to me and looked at Cleo. “Do you mind?” he asked. I nodded and he took off my trainer to give Cleo a look over, being careful not to touch the blisters. “You’re one tough customer,” he said with a wink. “Well done, cowgirl.”

  Mom pulled out her cell phone to take a picture. “Stand together,” she said. Levi and I bent in next to the dogs for the photo. “Say hummingbirds!” she said.

  After the photo I threw my arms around her waist and I breathed in her apple shampoo. “Thank you for the story,” I whispered in her ear.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  The Best Place in the Universe

  Levi and I asked our moms if we could go out for burgers together to celebrate.

  “Great idea,” said Mom. “Let’s get going. I’m starving.”

  Dr. Schofield said he had better go because he was on his way to pick up Geffrey and Michael. “But I wouldn’t have missed this for the world,” he said.

  I looked at Dr. Schofield and my mom smiling at each other.

  “Do you want to come with us for burgers too?” I asked him. “Maybe you can bring Geffrey and Michael. I’d really like to meet them.”

  Dr. Schofield and my mom exchanged a happy look.

  “I’d love to,” he said, squeezing my arm. “In fact, that sounds like the best invitation I’ve had for a long time.” He looked at Mom. “I’ll just go and get the boys and meet you there.”