The Vespa rattles beneath us like it’s about to take flight, Vivian gripping the handlebars tighter than usual as we zip through the gates of Whispering Pines.
I barely get a glimpse of my mother standing in our yard, arms crossed - her voice fading in the distance. We breeze past Carmen and the Almario twins. They wave at us like we’re in a parade, left blinking in a cloud of dust. Moonie whoops, gripping my arm, and I’m pretty sure she yells something at them. An apology, probably, but the wind swallows her words whole.
Vivian cuts the turn sharp into Lot 22. Mr. Cooper is walking across the narrow driveway, holding a bag of charcoal like he’s about to fire up the grill.
Vivian hits the breaks hard. The Vespa jolts, skidding to a stop - inches from his knees. He stumbles back. The bag of charcoal breaks open, spilling black lumps across the lawn.
“Vivian! For heaven’s sake!” he shouts.
But Vivian is already off the scooter, pulling off her helmet and gathering the shard of glass from under the seat. “No time, honey!” she calls over her shoulder as Moonie and I scramble after her, hearts pounding.
And she’s right, because the pull is stronger now - it is buzzing in my bones. The shards of Starglass are calling each other.
“Moonie, Sola! Wait!” a voice calls from across the street.
I glance back and see Trish hurrying over, her scarf fluttering, eyes narrowed on us like she knows something is up.
Before we know, she’s right behind us, holding the door.
Inside the sunporch, the air feels charged before we even step through the door. The shard she found at the beach sits on the shelf, vibrating faintly, pulsing with a blue pale glow.
Vivian doesn’t hesitate. She crosses the room and carefully sets the shard from the osprey’s nest beside it.
The moment the two pieces touch, something electric ripples through the space. The shards hum louder, light dancing between them like they are speaking in a language older than anything we know. For a second, it feels like the room is spinning with them, caught in the rhythm.
Trish freezes, eyes wide as the glass glows brighter, and brighter, almost blinding.
But then, it stops. The glow fades. The vibration dies out.
I pick them up, turning them over in my hands. They are fused together, but - “It’s not complete,” I say, my stomach sinking.
Moonie takes it from me, holding it up to the light. “The fisherman,” she murmurs. “He still has the last piece.”
Trish lets out a breath, shaking her head like she’s trying to make sense of it. “What in the world...” Her eyes shift to Vivian. “Did you see that?”
Vivian doesn’t answer right away. She stands staring at the Starglass, her eyes fixed on it like she’s seeing something no one else can see.
Then she says softly, “Those vines back there at the water tower... I saw them. Wrap around Sola like they were alive.” Her voice trembles just a little - not fear, but something deeper. “And Moonie --“
She turns, looking right at her. “You talked to that big bird, didn’t you? Not out loud. You didn’t have to.”
Moonie shifts - she’s not sure how much to admit. But Vivian doesn’t wait for an answer.
“You should have seen it, Trish. It was magical,” she meets our eyes, her usual lightness gone. “This is magical.”
Trish crosses her arms, eyebrows lifting, almost like she wants to laugh. “Now, Viv. Don’t go spinning tales on me. I’ve been doing this longer than both of these girls have been alive. It can’t be real. Moonie can’t have --”
“She does have gifts. The kind we forget about when we grow up.” Vivian takes Trish’s hand. “Whatever it is, whatever is happening - it’s real. And if we don’t fix this --”
A sharp, clipped knock on the door keeps her from finishing.
My mother steps inside, her gaze sharp, catching all four of us like she’s walked into a room mid-secret. “I was hoping we could put this little summer project on hold,” she says, her voice polite, but tight. “With that storm coming, I want my family close.”
Vivian smiles, but her eyes don’t soften. “I understand, Rosella, and --”
“But some things can’t wait for the weather to clear!” Moonie dives right in.
Trish takes Moonie by the shoulders. “Mrs. Garcia is right. Folks need to stick together in uncertainly.
My mother’s gaze sharpens, catching on me - lingering, like she senses more. “Sola, I expect you home soon. No more running off.”
My mother leaves, but I don’t follow like she expects me to.
Moonie and I exchange a worried look. The pull in my chest tightens. She knows. Vivian knows. The storm outside might be dangerous, but what’s waiting if we don’t return the Starglass in one piece? That could be far worse.
Trish throws her hands up in the air. “Oh, my goodness. I got to go. I left DeeDee in the kitchen standing on one foot with her hands on her head,” she makes her way to the door.
“What’s that good for?” Vivian asks with a slight laugh.
“I don’t know. I hope it aligns her chakras, that girl is all out of sorts.” The door slams closed behind her.
The Starglass starts to vibrate in Moonie’s hands, her fingers trace the jagged edges where the final piece should go.
“It’s pulling,” she says. “I can feel it.”
I nod. The air feels thinner, the hum in my bones louder now, almost like the walls themselves are holding their breath.
Vivian crosses her arms, glancing out the sunporch windows. “We can’t wait much longer.”
Moonie looks up. “What about Mr. Cooper’s boat?”
Vivian’s eyebrows lift, considering.
I have to admit, taking Mr. Cooper’s boat out to find the fisherman isn’t a bad idea. He took my whole family out once - smooth ride, fast, like it could outrun any storm. I can see it all playing out in my head: us cutting across the water, finding the fisherman’s boat, completing the Starglass before it’s too late. Maybe we could even save Nerivion.
Then, with a creak of a floorboard, Mr. Cooper steps onto the sunporch from inside the trailer. He’s holding a hammer in one hand, a fistful of nails in the other.
“Did I hear something about my boat?” he asks.
Vivian startles, turns to him. “I thought you were outside!”
“I was looking for you,” he says, giving her a look. “Need help getting things tied down. Can’t be too careful.”
Moonie shifts beside me. “Hurricane’s never make landfall in Calypso,” she mutters, like it’s a known fact.
But Mr. Cooper shakes his head, “Maybe that’s true most years, but that doesn’t mean you can count on it. Weather’s a tricky thing. Storms can change their mind at the very last minute.”
I chime in, repeating something Papa always says: “The mangroves, and the barrier islands, they always protect us.”
He crosses his arms, voice firm. “One thing I do know,” he says scanning our faces, including Vivian’s. “You’re not taking my boat out!”
Moonie pulls me aside. “That’s it,” she says, her eyes wide.
“What’s it?” I ask. I may be able to read her mind, sometimes, but not this time.
“The barrier islands. The fisherman. He was heading straight for them.”
“You’re right. He was.” Vivian smiles at Mr. Cooper.
“N-O,” he says flat. “Kent Howard says the water’s already churning down in Tampa. End of discussion.”
But it wasn’t the end of discussion. Not for Moonie. Not for Vivian. I could see what was going on in their heads, both of them spinning plans behind their eyes. Plans I wouldn’t be a part of. Couldn’t be. My mother wanted me home.
Thank you so much for reading this chapter of The Magical Adventures of Moonie & Sola! Your support means the world to me. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to like, comment, and/or share - it helps more readers discover Moonie and Sola’s story and keeps the magic going. And I’d love to hear your thoughts!
Things are heating up fast in Calypso… Will Moonie and Sola find a way to get back out to sea and find the last piece of the Starglass before the storm hits? Come back next Friday for Chapter 8 and find out what plans are brewing!
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