Free The Spell Book Of Listen Taylor by Jaclyn Moriarty

minutes late—some of the children are much later than that, and we seem to get along all right. It is very kind of you to write notes of explanation, but please do not trouble yourself.
    I look forward to meeting you at the parent-teacher night later this year, when we can discuss Cassie properly. She certainly does seem to have a good heart, and is quite popular. (I often see other children gathered around her while she entertains them with funny stories—I wonder what she tells them!)
Best Wishes,
    Cath Murphy
    Turning into her driveway one day, Fancy looked across at her neighbor’s veranda and saw that there were two of them. Her neighbor had become two.
    She got out of her car, and glanced over quickly. Yes, there were now two men sitting at the breakfast table, slicing up kiwifruit, sipping from their coffee mugs. She kept her back straight, and hurried across the burning driveway to the soft, cool grass. She never wore shoes to drive.
    â€œâ€”so he ate his own arm,” she heard from the porch next door, just as she reached her front door. And then a chuckle.
    She couldn’t help it. She turned and stared.
    â€œFancy,” said her neighbor, “hello there. This is my brother, Bill. He’s out from Canada for a couple of days. Bill. Meet Fancy.”
    â€œDid I startle you?” said Bill-the-brother with a friendly nod. “You heard what I just said? He ate his own arm?”
    How direct the Canadians were. “Well…” she began.
    â€œIt’s what happened to a guy I know,” he explained. Meanwhile, Fancy’s neighbor looked down, slicing up another kiwifruit. “You want to hear the story? Okay. My buddy’s hiking in the Rockies up Jasper way; he stops to take a picture of some plant or other; somehow he crouches down by a cougar trap; he gets his arm caught in the cougar trap. I mean, seriously caught. Next thing, dumb effin luck, a big mother of a bear comes along and takes a bite out of his leg. Seriously, a bite out of his leg. He’s screaming and punching it with his one unstuck arm, but nothing he can do. The bear goes off but he knows, he can just tell, that it’s coming back later to finish him off. But he can’t get out of the trap! I mean, his arm is completely stuck! You’re in that predicament, what are you going to do?”
    Fancy tilted her head to the side. “What are you going to do?” she asked.
    â€œYou’re going to chew through your own arm.”
    Bill-the-brother nodded to himself and picked up a slice of kiwifruit. “That’s what my buddy did,” he said, green juice dripping down his chin. “He ate through his arm and got away.”
    Fancy stared.
    Her neighbor offered her a cup of coffee.
    â€œNo, thank you. And thank you for the story, Bill. Nice to meet you.”
    She opened the screen door to her house, and it let out a long, thin squeal.
Dear Ms. Murphy,
    How kind of you to write! I, also, look forward to meeting you at the parent-teacher night.
    I’m so pleased to hear that Cassie is popular! I hope she does not give you any trouble.
    You know, I just thought I would let you know that I was talking to Barbara Coulton the other day—she is Lucinda’s mother—and she told me that Lucinda is happier than she’s ever been at school! Barbara is delighted with the standard and variety of work that Lucinda brings home, and is especially pleased that you correct Lucinda’s spelling mistakes—such a rare thing in modern teaching.
Take care, and best wishes!
    Fancy Zing
    â€œWrite this down,” Fancy said to Radcliffe on Sunday afternoon: “ Toilet paper. ” Radcliffe wrote it down. “Follow me down the hall,” she instructed, taking out the vacuum cleaner from the hall closet. Obediently, Radcliffe followed, writing the list.
    â€œThe vacuum cleaner’s broken, you know.”
    â€œI don’t want the vacuum cleaner,”