***

"He says he's a crow."

"I know, but look at him."

"I can't bear to."

"Maybe we can get used to it."

***

The music settled around them.

"Did you hear that?"

"Ssssh."

"Was that you?"

"I think so."

"Uh oh. I stepped on a note."

***

"You mean, I'm the witch?"

"Well. Yes."

"Why didn't I know?"

"We wondered about that ourselves."

***

"Should we tell him about his nature?"

"What if he retaliated?"

"Oh. Yeah."

"So we wait awhile?"

"Good idea."

***

"He's going to starve himself to death."

"That's not my fault."

"Did you have to tell him his food was disgusting?"

"I thought he should know."

"Not when it's the only thing he can eat!"

"Do you know what's in your food?"

"Something's in it?"

"Ooooh, yeah!"

"Is it dead or alive?"

"A little of both."

. . .

"Hey! Hey there! You okay?"

***

"He flew right into a waterfall."

"You an eye-witness?"

"No. But I heard about it from that nutty squirrel."

"He couldn't have seen it. Squirrels don't leave the neighborhood."

"He's never lied to me."

"Into a waterfall, huh?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"Let's hope one of us finds out. It'll drive us crazy otherwise."

"Not crazy enough to fly into a waterfall. Only love does that."

"***

"So the squirrel knew what he was talking about."

"There's a cave behind the fall. Somebody saw them coming out together."

"Did that somebody get a good look at his sweetheart?"

"Sure did--she's not a crow.

"Trouble brews."

***

"You know that apple tree behind the white house by the creek?"

"Of course I do. I've lived here a lot longer than you have."

"It's hollow at one crook and limb, and guess who's moved in there?"

"Crows don't live in hollow limbs."

"He doesn't go in it. He guards it from outside. All night long. He brings her walnuts,

broken up in little bits."

"He's feeding her?"

"He brings her honeysuckle, for the juice."

"If he catches you spying, you're gone from here."

"There's a tom lives at the white house. He's got sharp eyes."

"We're in for it now."

"Why?"

"She can fly."

PART II

Her name is Plum. She has one attire, and it is that very color.

Her temper is fierce.

She doesn't know her own history.

But she knows a particular house holds the answer to her past and her future.

She's human. At least, she hopes she is.

When night falls, and the moon holds the dark at bay,

She zips to the attic dormer and through a crack in the milky pane,

Through dust and webby shadows, through a knothole in the floor,

Then hovers above a bed where two children lie sleeping.

They're her charges, she understands,

though she's never seen them before.