guessing


Bob fears our new neighbor will be a giant cat with slitted eyes and a coiled tail. But Stella says a truck will arrive this afternoon carrying a baby elephant.


“How do you know?” I ask. I sample the air, but all I smell is caramel corn.


I love caramel corn.


“I can hear her,” Stella says. “She’s crying for her mother.”


I listen. I hear the cars charging past. I hear the snore of the sun bears in their wire domain.


But I don’t hear any elephants.


“You’re just hoping,” I say.


Stella closes her eyes. “No,” she says softly, “not hoping. Not at all.”

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