Free Stella by Starlight by Sharon M. Draper

been thinkin’ about, Mama?”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œI really liked Spoon Man’s story, but I kept thinking about stuff like why chickens can’t fly or why eagles live on mountaintops. I’d love to go the library in Spindale and read a book about how anything flies—that would be incredible.”
    â€œI’m sure books like that exist . . . ,” her mother said carefully.
    â€œBut I’m not allowed to use the library.” Stella’s eyes flashed as she finished her mother’s sentence. “I know. And it’s just not fair!”
    Her mother brushed her lips against Stella’s ear. “Perhaps one day things will change.”
    â€œNot if the Klan has anything to do with it,” Stella replied, twirling the new bracelet on her wrist. “I really like the bracelet, Mama. I know you could have used that money for something more important.”
    â€œEvery girl needs something pretty in her life, something special to make her smile,” her mother said. “But far more important than a glass trinket, Stella, is the joy you already got in you.”
    â€œI got something else special, Mama. . . .” Her mother waited, and Stella reached down and pulledout the cigar box full of clippings. “Did you know about this, too?” she asked, opening it up.
    Sounding amused, her mother told her, “I’ve wrapped quite a bit of garbage recently in newspapers with holes cut out of them. But I know the value of a secret.”
    Stella gave Mama her school notebook, the one that held the paper marked with a F, the incomplete assignments that sat there like half-plowed furrows, the jumble of scribbles and thoughts.
    Mama flipped through it all, squinting as the clouds continued to obscure the stars.
    Stella held her breath.
    â€œGertrude is right,” Mama said finally.
    â€œI’m a dunce?” Stella said, fear clutching her chest.
    â€œQuite the opposite. You are an amazing thinker—a gemstone hiding inside a rock.”
    â€œSo how come all I can feel is the rock?”
    â€œWhat I’m reading here is thoughtful and beautiful, just like you are.”
    â€œMore like thick and tangled, like my hair,” Stella mumbled. She did, however, take the notebook into the house with her. “Would it be all right if I try towrite a little something before I go to sleep?” she asked. “Maybe I can scribble some ideas while my brain is not feeling so fried.”
    Mama touched Stella’s cheek. “Sure, baby. But not for long. We got church in the mornin’.”
    Stella plopped down by the embers of the fire. She smiled. Because words were starting to make sense. Bright, perfectly formed ideas smoldered in her mind. She opened her notebook.

16
Up in the Air
    UP IN THE AIR
    I don’t know how airplanes stay up in the air and fly. It must really be something to sit inside an airplane, then look out the window (I guess they have windows!) and see clouds underneath you instead of above like they are suppozd supposed to be.
    I don’t know how birds fly either. How can a clump of feathers with legs and wings take off and just float on a breeze? Their brains are much smaller than mine, but they know how to fly, and I don’t. I guess birds know more than I do about what clouds look like up close.
    Spoon Man talked about eagles and what their wings look like when they fly. Sometimes they are brown with white tips on the end. The pastor wears wing-tipped shoes every Sunday. That’s the first time I understood why folks call them that!

17
I Am a Man. Amen.
    Mama was already stoking the fire, sweeping the floor, and warming up a few leftovers from the potluck meal when Stella woke up. She reached under her pillow and touched the notebook she’d tucked there before she fell asleep. She got up and dressed quickly, hurrying to help.
    Spoon Man knocked on the door, jarring Jojo