Goodie Dreamer's Arc

Chapter 3 of 13

Goodie set down the last bubble and knew knocking on forty-three doors would take days she did not have. So she tried something louder. She lifted a gold trumpet to the sky. Silly Sally cupped her hands beside it. A shimmering finch landed on the rim and sang a note so bright it carried for miles. "That'll do it," Sally said. Then quieter, "Maybe too well. Silly, right?" Goodie smiled, relieved. The sky had heard. The sky, it turned out, was listening very closely. Neighbors began drifting in from every direction. Ten. Twenty. Forty. Then more she had never even counted. They kept coming, smiling, expectant. Goodie's matched chairs filled within a minute. Guests stood politely on the cloud edge, waiting. Her chest tightened. She scrambled. She dragged stools from the pavilion, a bench from inside, three crates, a tall stepping chair, a low garden seat. Rows of mismatched chairs spread out in crooked lines. Then the cups ran out too. She reached into the cupboard and pulled out the only one left — a delicate cup with a small chip on its rim. Her hand shook as she set it on the white cloth. A neighbor picked it up first, before Goodie could hide it. They didn't frown. They just sat down on a crate, sipped, and waved her over. The party had started without her permission, chipped cup and all. Goodie stood very still, the perfect plan gone, something new and uneven taking its place.