Chapter 29 Perfectly Imperfect
Perfectly Imperfect
I lean against the open gates of Swancrest, glancing at the paper in my hands.
“So. Turns out, I’m not sure I have a future in Great Pastry Chef, Figure Skater, or Pet Vet,” I say, checking them off the list. I’ve spent the past several weeks shadowing different Careers among the people of Heartland, seeing if they might have a place in my Career path.
They don’t, but I loved the freedom of learning new things just because I wanted to.
Callie smiles. “You know you can just become a Painter, right?”
“I know,” I say, and the fact that those words are true… “I like to have options, though,” I continue. “If I painted all day, maybe I wouldn’t love it as much.”
“Or maybe you would love it more,” Sunny calls down from above, and we both crane our necks to see him sitting in his new flying boat.
“True. I guess I won’t know until I try,” I say.
Trying is scary, of course.
There’s always the chance I’ll fail and disappoint myself. Or the people around me.
But now I realize that failing just means living without fear. It means putting yourself into the game. And I’d prefer that over living on the sidelines any day.
“Ready?” Sunny asks.
I nod. “I—”
“Where are you going?” a voice says.
I pause. Turn.
Robin is standing there, eyebrow raised.
“We’re going to see you off, of course,” I tell her. Then I smile. “And after that to Summerland. For a few days, maybe.”
Sunny leaps down from his boat to help Robin with her luggage. She cringes as he throws her bags up, punching the air every time he manages to actually get one into his boat.
Unfortunately, most of her bags have to be fished from the water.
With a flick of my wrist, we all float up into Sunny’s boat, and then we’re off, shooting toward the horizon.
Below, people are floating merrily in their boats. Some look up and wave at us. I wave back.
Ever since the night we saved Heartland, Robin agreed to give up her control over everything. That was my condition to ever having a relationship with her.
She came clean with everyone about the Fates. There was anger, but there was also forgiveness—many realized they didn’t like the Fates that had been decided for them and wanted to try something new.
So we did away with Boxing Day, forever: Everyone in Heartland can be anything their hearts desire, maybe something already encapsulated in The Book of Fates, and maybe something entirely new.
We all get to choose.
And that is magic.
Speaking of magic…
I turn around, following Robin’s gaze toward the school.
A bright pink light shines like a star from the top of her staff, now embedded in the roof of Swancrest’s tallest tower. It glimmers in the diminishing sun, like a wink.
The power Robin used to hold in her fist is now raining down upon all of us. Every person in Heartland can use it how they wish. It was another condition of Robin’s forgiveness.
The boat floats higher, until the canals look like veins through the bustling heart-city. And from this view… I can see it.
All the worlds previously blocked by the border mists. We cleared them after restoring Swancrest.
And we built bridges.
Dozens of long, thin, floating roads, branching off from Heartland in every direction, each leading to different lands. Some I’ve visited—and others I have yet to explore. But I will.
The bridges are all full of various people and creatures walking back and forth, finally joined once more. I spot Bartholomew heading into Heartland and call to him from the clouds. His horn glimmers as he nods hello.
Sunny parks his boat on one of these glimmering pink paths, which pulses with light below our feet.
“I suppose this is goodbye,” Robin says as she grunts, taking the heavy luggage into her hands.
The last condition of Robin’s forgiveness, decided by the people of Heartland: She would spend one year visiting all the various lands she previously cut off, in the hopes that she would learn the importance of letting new people and experiences in.
“I’m sorry, Barbie,” she tells me again, for probably the dozenth time. “For everything.” There’s a moment of silence. “Be careful,” she adds, as though she can’t help herself. Then she nods at Callie and Sunny and turns to go.
But I close the distance between us and stop her, throwing my arms around her shoulders.
“Thank you,” I whisper, because I know it isn’t easy for her to accept her flaws and go through with this.
She could have easily taken her staff and fled, avoiding accountability. But she didn’t. For me… she didn’t.
“Thank you,” Robin murmurs back, her eyes glistening with tears. “For giving me another chance.”
I give her one final hug before she walks away. I watch her go until she’s just a speck in the distance, off to explore for the first time since she and my mom left Dreamland all those years ago.
Callie’s arm wraps around me from one side. Sunny’s curls around my shoulders from the other.
They don’t say anything about the tears sliding down my face, and I’m grateful. We just stand there for several minutes.
Until Sunny turns and says, “Look at that. We waited here in awkward silence for just enough time to catch the sunset.”
“Did someone say ‘sunset’?”
I whirl around to see Ken behind us, atop Sandy.
He’s visited Heartland a few times now, never staying long on account of our land’s “abundance of water, but criminal lack of beach.”
Sandy sneezes in my face in greeting.
But when I make a sugar cube appear from thin air and feed it to her, she huffs, the closest thing I’ll ever get to a thank-you. I’ll take it.
Ken slips off his saddle, then joins us on the bridge. Side by side, all four of us sit along its edge, legs dangling over the great height of everything below, and watch as the sky turns pink and violet.
We all sit. And we watch. And we wonder.
The sunset crests. I’m filled with so much happiness I feel like it could pour out of me like a song. It does, kind of, in a faint stream of pink light, shining from the center of my chest. Callie and Sunny notice and smile back. So does Ken.
My life is not perfect.
Not every day is a dream.
But it’s the imperfections that make life perfectly imperfect. I know that now. I wouldn’t dare wish for anything different.
Nothing is predictable.
Most things are completely beyond my control.
I don’t know what the future holds.
Isn’t it wonderful?