A Nest for Celeste (5 page)

T
he sun was changing the room from gray to gold when Celeste awoke to the creaking of the rope mattress just inches away. She peeked out of her boot and saw a young man pad across the room. She noticed the wave of chestnut hair. She recognized him. It was Joseph, Mr. Audubon’s helper.

He was at the armoire, wearing a linen shirt, which was stained with what looked like paint or ink, and holding a leather boot in one hand. He was searching for something.

Then he was on his knees, scanning the floor.

He sat back, scratching his head. “Now where is
that other one?” he said, pulling on one boot.

Celeste suddenly realized what he was looking for. She cowered deep inside the boot and blinked.

That’s when Joseph finished putting on one boot, and then began his search again. He swung around toward the bed.

Celeste felt her stomach sink as the boot was lifted. Her claws gripped the inside of the leather. In an instant there was complete darkness as Joseph’s toes were thrust in, right toward Celeste.

She squealed in terror and, wriggling for all she was worth, tried to somehow escape the foot looming above her.

“Yeow! What the dickens?” yelled the boy, dropping the boot in surprise. It fell with a clunk, knocking
Celeste back down into the toe. Dazed, she peeked out. There was Joseph, looking in.

“Oh! A mouse!” said Joseph, smiling. He lifted Celeste carefully from the boot, cradling her with two hands.

Celeste was paralyzed, gripped around the chest with fear, unable to breathe much less jump or even move. Instinct told her to at least wiggle and squirm, but she could not. Her deep brown eyes could only stare at Joseph, whose own blue eyes showed that he meant no harm; they twinkled in bemusement.

“You’re a pretty little thing,” he said. “Maybe we can use you. Let’s see…here’s something that’ll hold you.”

Joseph took a small cage made of twigs from the shelf over the desk and nudged Celeste into it. “We made this for an oriole,” he said, “but it’ll work just right for you, too, Little One.”

Celeste quickly scurried into a corner, making
herself as small as possible, glancing nervously about for an exit. There was none.

“Now I’ll have company while Audubon is out,” the boy said. “Lord knows it’s lonely enough around here…lonely enough to talk to a mouse.” He sat down to put on his other boot.

“What in the…?”

He reached into the boot and pulled out a tangle of nibbled paper, leaves, and wool yarn. “My sock!”

He looked at Celeste and smiled. “Next time, ask my permission first,” he said, tossing Celeste’s nest through the open window. She let out a tiny cry when she thought of the food supplies—watermelon seeds…bread crumbs—that were now gone. And her baskets—a lot of hard work—lost.

She hadn’t lived in her nest in the toe of the boot for long, but it had been home. Now it was out the window.

H
er heart beat furiously, like a million raindrops hitting a tin roof. The small cage had no places to hide in it, and Celeste felt exposed and vulnerable. Her body trembled, sickened with fear, as she watched Joseph putting on the other boot.

Why doesn’t he eat me?
she squeaked nervously.

But then Joseph sat down at his drawing desk. A large piece of paper lay stretched across the table right next to Celeste. She could see on it a penciled outline, the figure of a bird. Joseph began sketching what
looked to be leaves or flowers in the background. He would sketch, then rub out his lines, then sketch again and again, only to rub out his lines each time.

He seemed frustrated, but spoke softly to Celeste as he worked.

“You’re good company, you know that, Little One? I’ve been away from home so long I’ve just about forgotten what home is, but I know I miss it. Having you around is real nice.”

He rubbed his eyes. “You know how long I’ve been gone from home? Nearly two years.”

Celeste watched Joseph, who had stopped sketching. He was staring out the window, looking thoughtful. He seemed to have forgotten about her. Celeste searched again for an opening in the cage.

“Mr. Audubon asked me along on his trip as an assistant…. I had just turned thirteen,” Joseph said. “I wasn’t too keen on going. I remember when we started out on the river: The day was cool and bright,
smell of pine and tar in the air; the little flatboat was new; and the men were busy on board, loading gear and supplies, packing everything. I felt I was in everyone’s way, pretty useless. I had only brought along a few things: a shirt, some drawing supplies, a scarf. I stowed them in a nook belowdecks behind a barrel of hardtack.”

Joseph reached between the twigs of the little cage and scratched Celeste under her chin. She froze, terrified. But Joseph’s voice was soothing and eventoned.

He looked wistfully at Celeste and rubbed her tummy. Celeste closed her eyes and held her breath.
I’m really not much more than a mouthful!
she squeaked in panic, waiting for death. But Joseph seemed to ignore her squeaks and continued to talk.

“There was Ma, standing on the dock, wearing a black dress. She smiled at me, but I could see she’d been crying. She handed me a sack. ‘Some biscuits and some ham,’ she said. Someone yelled out, ‘On board, lad!’ and I jumped on.”

Joseph again stared out the window, lost in a daydream.

“Our little boat pushed off, and I heard Ma say, ‘Lord, be with him.’ She got smaller and smaller, and that made me fill up with panic, like every nerve in my chest was being twisted. My throat got all pinched and tight, like I had swallowed a walnut whole. And I could feel the tears coming on, hot and fierce. Just about then Mr. Audubon put his hand on my shoulder. ‘Prepare for high adventure, son!’ he said.”

Joseph turned from the window and looked at Celeste. “It’s been adventure, that’s for sure, Little One.” He reached into the cage and gently took her out, cradling her in his hands, stroking her cheek. Celeste tried kicking and scrambling from his hands, but Joseph cupped her firmly. He found a peanut in his trousers pocket and gave it to her. She sniffed at it, perplexed, keeping her eyes on Joseph.

Then, cautiously, she began to nibble. It was
delicious. Celeste felt confused. It had been a long time since anyone had been kind to her. She had left her family’s nest many months ago, and Illianna and Trixie had only given her blows to the ears and bites on the back.

Joseph continued. “The boat got into the current, and we started to make time. The dock and my ma disappeared around a bend in the river. A flock of geese flew over—there must have been hundreds of them—and the breeze picked up off the water. One of the men got out his fiddle and started playing a tune; and I started feeling better, not so homesick.”

“It took us a while, but we finally made it down-river to New Orleans, and now here we are at Oakley Plantation. I tell you, Little One, seems like I’ve been working hard ever since, helping Mr. Audubon look for birds, then trying to paint backgrounds good enough. Sure would like to get home…but Ma says I can learn a lot from Mr. Audubon, that I can learn
a trade. Folks pay good money for beautiful paintings, you know. You’re good company, Little One!” He kissed Celeste lightly on the top of her head and then slipped her into his shirt pocket. She wiggled at first but soon sat quietly, waiting. The peanut in her tummy had calmed her a bit.

Joseph went back to his work at his desk; she heard the sound of his pencil and eraser. But soon he became frustrated again. He jumped up from the table in exasperation.

“Mr. Audubon wants it perfect, and I can’t do it!” he moaned. He peeked into his pocket. “Little mouse, what am I to do?”