Monday with a Mad Genius (7 page)

Leonardo’s arms whipped out to his sides. They sprouted long grayish feathers. He let out a yelp. The next thing Jack knew,
his
arms had turned into feathery wings, too! So had Annie’s!

“What’s happening?” cried Leonardo.

“Wings!” said Annie.

Jack’s wings felt light and airy, yet strong and powerful.

“Now we can fly!” said Annie.

“Wings?” said Leonardo, looking stunned. Then he burst out laughing. “We have wings! We have wings! Run! Run into the wind!”

Jack, Annie, and Leonardo all stretched out their wings and took quick steps forward. The wind rushed under their feathers and lifted them off the ground.

“WHOOOAH!” cried Leonardo.

Leonardo, Jack, and Annie flapped their
wings and soared high into the sky. Then they caught a gentle wind and stopped flapping. Twisting this way and that, they glided in a big circle above the countryside.

Jack felt as light as the wind. His heart beat wildly.

“Incredible, huh?” yelled Annie.

“Best flying ever!” shouted Jack.

Jack and Annie had flown lots before. They’d flown on a dragon, on a bicycle, on a winged lion, on a magic carpet, and on the back of a white stag in Camelot. They’d even flown as ravens over a haunted castle. But this was the first time they’d ever flown on their own, just as themselves.

“Follow me!” cried Leonardo. He tilted his wings and flew out of the circle. Jack and Annie flew after him. They all swooped high up over the quiet hills and glided through low clouds.

The cool, wet mist blew against Jack’s face. He felt as if he were swimming through the sky, as if the clouds were water keeping him afloat.

Laughing and whooping with delight, Leonardo led Jack and Annie out of the clouds and down over the yellow meadows and the pale green olive groves.

“
Helloooo!
” Leonardo shouted to farmers plowing a field. But the farmers didn’t look up.

“
Helloooo!
” he called to grape pickers working in a vineyard, but they didn’t look up, either.

No one on the ground looked up, but all the birds in the sky seemed to take notice. Birds cawed and swooped near them, as if welcoming them to their world. Birds flew alongside them and spread out in front of them, leading them over the city walls of Florence.

Jack, Annie, and Leonardo circled with the birds over the sea of red-tiled roofs, over the great dome of the cathedral, and over the bell tower of the palace of the great council.

“Florence looks so neat and orderly from up here!” Leonardo cried to Jack and Annie. “I wish I had my sketchbook!”

The city
did
look orderly from the sky, thought Jack:

the busy market

  with its rows of stalls and tents,

    the narrow lanes with the brightly colored

      clothes waving from clotheslines,

        the long covered bridge,

          the winding, sparkling river.

Jack, Annie, and Leonardo soared with the birds back over the city walls out to the countryside. They glided over the olive groves and vineyards. Then they circled above the spot where Leonardo’s Great Bird lay broken in the grass.

The birds swooped up and vanished behind the clouds. Leonardo, Jack, and Annie glided down toward the ground. They opened their wings wide and then, gently and easily, their feet touched the grass. Their wings fluttered with tiny beats, and the three of them took quick hopping steps before coming to a full stop.

When Jack, Annie, and Leonardo were steady
on their feet, their long feathers disappeared and their bird wings became arms again. Leonardo looked dazed. He stared up at the sky. Then he staggered a few steps and fell facedown into the grass.

“Leonardo?” said Annie.

Oh, no
, thought Jack.
He’s had a heart attack.

“Leonardo?” said Annie. She knelt down near him.

Leonardo rolled over and stared up at Jack and Annie. “What … what just happened?” he stammered. “Did we fly? Did we really fly? Or was it a dream?”

“Uh … well …” Jack didn’t know what to say. To explain the wand to Leonardo, they’d have to start way back at the very beginning—with the tree house, Morgan, Merlin, Teddy, Kathleen, Dianthus. It would take forever.

“Well,” said Annie. “One day a long time ago, we were playing in the woods and we saw—”

“Annie—” Jack shook his head.

Annie frowned. “I guess it can’t really be explained,” she said.

Leonardo looked up at the sky. “No, no,” he said. “I think you are right. Perhaps some things should remain mysteries and are better kept in our hearts. We should not try to explain them.”

That’s an amazing statement
, Jack thought,
from a person who always tries to explain everything.

“But if I
had
to explain it, I would explain it
this
way,” said Leonardo. He leapt to his feet. “For years, I wrote down all my observations of bird flight. I made hundreds of drawings. These things helped me build my flying machine. But in the end, something was missing—something very important.”

“What?” asked Annie.

“The
spirit
of a bird!” said Leonardo. “A bird is not just a machine. A bird has a spirit. And with the two of you, I somehow gained that spirit. If only for a short time and if only in
my imagination, we all became more bird than human!”

“And did the spirit of the bird mend your heart?” Annie asked.

Leonardo smiled. “Yes, my heart is mended now. I am ready to leave this dream behind and move on to others. And it does not matter that the world will never know of my great triumph.”

“So maybe fame
isn’t
the secret of happiness?” said Jack.

“Absolutely not,” said Leonardo. “I know that now. We must do what we do to satisfy our own hearts. For instance, I am working on a painting now. I love it. I do not care if others ever see it.… Oh! Oh, no! What time is it?” He jerked his head around to look at the sun. “I must go! I will be late!”

“Late for what?” said Annie.

“To meet my model at the studio!” said Leonardo. “The woman I am painting in the portrait I was just talking about! We must return!”

Jack, Annie, and Leonardo hurried back to the cart and climbed in. Leonardo snapped the reins, and the white horse started clopping back toward Florence.

A
t first no one spoke on the trip back. It was as if they didn’t want to break the spell of joy that had settled over them. Even though Jack was bumping up and down in the cart, he could still remember the feeling of flying smoothly through the sky. He could feel the wind rustling his long feathers.

The cart passed through a gate in the city walls. As they started through the streets, Annie broke the silence. “So if fame is
not
the secret of happiness,” she said to Leonardo, “then what
is
? Do you think it could be
flying
?”

Leonardo thought for a moment. “No, no. The secret of happiness cannot be flying,” he said.

“Why not?” asked Jack.

“Because flying is a great dream that no one but us will ever realize,” said Leonardo. “Surely happiness cannot be only for
us.
”

“True,” said Annie.

“So what
do
you think the secret is?” asked Jack.

“Hmm …” Leonardo was silent. Then he sighed. “I must think about it,” he said.

Jack looked worriedly at the sky. The sun would go down soon and night would come. According to their rhyme, they were supposed to leave when the night bird sang its song. “Um … how long do you think it’ll take you to think about it?” Jack asked.

“I do not know,” said Leonardo. “Right now all I know is that I must hurry to meet with my model. She is already unhappy enough without my being late.”

“Why is she unhappy?” asked Annie.

“She will not say,” said Leonardo. “Perhaps she is tired of posing for me. For three years, she has been sitting for her portrait.”

“Whoa, that’s a really long time,” said Annie, “especially if you’re just sitting.”

“Yes, yes, it is,” said Leonardo. “Lately she will not even smile. She only stares at me sadly. I have tried hiring singers, musicians, and joke-sters to amuse her, but nothing helps.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t meet with her today,” said Jack. He didn’t want Leonardo to lose his good feelings from flying. And he wanted him to spend time thinking about the secret of happiness.

“No, I must,” said Leonardo. “The light is perfect today. Late afternoon is the best time for painting a portrait—in my courtyard, when the sunlight is golden and shadows are beginning to fall.”

Shadows
were
falling as the white horse pulled the cart into Leonardo’s courtyard. A young woman was standing by the studio door.

“Lisa!” called Leonardo.

“Hello, Leonardo,” the woman said. She wore a dark gown with a silk cloth over her shoulder. A thin veil covered her long brown hair. She had a high forehead and large brown eyes. Oddly, she looked like someone Jack knew, but he couldn’t remember who.

“Forgive me, Lisa. I am late,” said Leonardo, leaping down from the cart. “Will you wait for me to set up my things?”

“Yes, I will wait,” said Lisa.

Leonardo hurried inside, and Jack and Annie climbed down from the cart. “Hi, we’re Annie and Jack,” said Annie.

The woman smiled at them. “I am Lisa,” she said.

“You look familiar to me,” said Annie.

“Really?” said Lisa. “Are you from Florence?”

“No, we’re from Frog Creek, Pennsylvania,” said Annie. “It’s far away.”

Lisa smiled again. “I like the name of your town,” she said.

So Lisa
did
smile for other people, thought Jack. He wondered why she wouldn’t smile for Leonardo.

Leonardo came back outside, carrying a small canvas, an easel, and a paint box. He then brought out a stool for Lisa. She sat down and folded her hands.

Leonardo placed the canvas on his easel. As he prepared his paints, Jack and Annie looked at his painting-in-progress.

“Nice,” breathed Annie.

The small canvas showed the model, Lisa. Except for her mouth, her whole face had been painted. In the background was a misty landscape with mountains and winding rivers.

Leonardo picked up his brush, dipped it into a paint jar, and began to work. Jack and Annie watched closely as the great genius brushed a thin coat of green paint over the scenery.

“What are you doing now?” whispered Annie.

“I paint many very thin coats over the background,” murmured Leonardo. “This casts a soft
green light over everything. So it all blends together like smoke, and you cannot tell light from shadow.”