Free Fly Away by Patricia MacLachlan Page B

beautiful than a cow. Maybe no one can.
    â€œCow,” says Teddy.
    â€œI know that,” I say, then I laugh because it is Teddy I’m answering.
    â€œDutch Belted,” says Gracie. “Boots’s cows are mostly Holsteins or Guernseys,” she tells me.
    Gracie has a chart at home of all the cow breeds. She opens her notebook andtakes out a pen. She begins to draw the cow.
    â€œI’ve never seen one,” says Boots. He puts his hand across the fence and the cow moves back quickly. Then, after a moment, she comes back so Boots can rub her head.
    â€œBeautiful,” says Boots. “Beautiful Dutch Belted.”
    â€œCow,” says Teddy.
    â€œYes, Teddy,” says Boots. “Dutch Belted.”
    Teddy reaches his hand over the fence and rubs the cow’s head, imitating Boots. The cow’s tongue comes out, long and rough, making Teddy jump.
    The sun goes down behind the faraway line of trees. Two more DutchBelted cows move toward us, probably hoping for grain.
    â€œCow,” whispers Teddy, putting his arm around Boots’s neck.

    Nighttime. Grace is sleeping. She is always first to go to sleep. There are stars out in the black sky and I can see the glow of the lantern light in Mama and Boots’s tent. There is a slice of moon above the trees.
    â€œSee? ”
    It is Teddy’s little voice next to me. That’s the only part of my name, Lucy, that he can say—the “see” of Lucy.
    â€œTeddy,” I whisper.
    â€œCow,” he says.
    â€œCow,” I whisper.
    His eyes gleam in the dark. I know he’sgoing to sing now. And he does. He sings the song perfectly, all the la la’s in tune. I hear the words in my head.
    â€œFly away, fly away,
    All the birdies fly away.”
    I reach over and take his hand.
    And we sleep.

chapter 3
Night Song
    In the morning it is drizzly and dreary. Boots is listening to the weather forecast on the car radio.
    â€œMore rain and storms today,” he says, worried.
    Mama packs up the chickens. I help Gracie into her car seat. She clicks herselfin. I lift Teddy into his seat back by the chickens. I click him in.
    He points to the chickens.
    â€œCow,” he says.
    Gracie and I laugh.
    â€œChickens,” says Gracie. “I’ll draw you one.”
    She takes out her paper and markers and quickly draws a very good chicken. She hands it to Teddy.
    Teddy smiles at her.
    â€œCow,” he says happily.
    â€œI think that for Teddy ‘cow’ means ‘Look! There’s something!’ ” I tell Gracie.
    Boots stows the tent in the storage under the beds. The car is packed.
    Boots starts up the car.
    â€œReady?”`
    â€œReady,” says Mama. She puts on her headphones.
    â€œA day and a half to go,” says Boots.
    Boots turns on his tape. Today it is Aida , the triumphal march. Somewhere in act 2. Boots once told me that when the opera is presented there is a huge parade of people and animals, sometimes elephants, camels, and horses. Maybe I’ll take Boots to see Aida when I’m a rich poet. There aren’t any elephants or camels in La Traviata .
    We drive off in the mist. Gracie leans over and points to Teddy. He is keeping time to the music on his car seat. If he hears it enough, he’ll be able to sing it.
    We drive off down the highway. I take out my writing book and my pen.I stare at the blank lined page. I feel the same way about a blank page that my Mama feels about her old home in North Dakota. I love it because it is fresh and clean. I hate it because I have to fill it.
    I think about the shining coal-black cow with the surprising white circle around her middle.
    I write a line.
    Ring-Around cow.
    I look at it so hard my eyes blur.
    Outside the car window horses run by the fences.
    â€œCows!” yells Teddy.
    â€œI have to go to the bathroom!” calls Gracie.
    I sigh.
    It’s going to be a long drive.

    It is late afternoon when the