The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane

by Kate DiCamillo

He was glad to be alive.

“Looks like it’s enjoying the ride, don’t it?”

“I don’t want nothing from the sea,” came a voice.

Life, for a very long time, was sweet.

and soon he gave up thinking about revenge and gave in to despair.

The witch turned her into a warthog because she loved nobody. He understood that now.

It was because he had not loved Abilene enough.

And he would never be able to make it right.

He missed them terribly. He wanted to be with them. The rabbit wonde...

And so he listened. And in his listening, his heart opened wide and then wider still.

Instead, he felt mocked. You are down there alone, the stars seemed to say to him. And we are up here, in our constellations, together. I have been loved, Edward told the stars. So? said the stars. What difference does that make when you are all alone now?

Perhaps, he thought, it is not too late, after all, for me to be saved.

Never in his life had Edward been cradled like a baby. Abilene had not done it. Nor had Nellie. And most certainly Bull had not. It was a singular sensation to be held so gently and yet so fiercely, to be stared down at with so much love. Edward felt the whole of his china body flood with warmth.

“Make a wish, honey,” Bryce said, his voice high and tight. “That’s your star. You make you a wish for anything you want.” And even though it was Sarah Ruth’s star, Edward wished on it, too.

“I loved her,” said the father. “I loved her.”

How could he bear to live in a world without Sarah Ruth?

Pellegrina? thought the dancing rabbit. She nodded at him. Look at me, he said to her. His arms and legs jerked. Look at me. You got your wish. I have learned how to love. And it’s a terrible thing. I’m broken. My heart is broken. Help me.

Come back, thought Edward. Fix me.

Edward felt a pang of sorrow, deep and sweet and familiar. Why did she have to be so far away? If only I had wings, he thought, I could fly to her.

Edward looked over his shoulder and there they were, the most magnificent wings he had ever seen, orange and red and blue and yellow. And they were on his back. They belonged to him. They were his wings. What a wonderful night this was! He was walking on his own. He had an elegant new suit. And now he had wings. He could fly anywhere, do anything.

“I couldn’t stand to lose you again,” said Nellie. “Neither could I,” said Abilene. “It would break my heart.”

My heart, thought Edward, my heart is broken.

“And your friend chose option two. He gave you up so that you could be healed. Extraordinary, really.”

Don’t go, thought Edward. I won’t be able to bear it if you go.

And Edward was alone.

Don’t talk to me about love,” he said. “I have known love.”

Edward was the lone contrarian. He prided himself on not hoping, on not allowing his heart to lift inside of him. He prided himself on keeping his heart silent, immobile, closed tight. I am done with hope, thought Edward Tulane.

“I am done with being loved,” Edward told her. “I’m done with loving. It’s too painful.”

“You disappoint me,” she said. “You disappoint me greatly.

“You disappoint me,” said the old doll. Her words made Edward think of Pellegrina: of warthogs and princesses, of listening and love, of spells and curses. What if there was somebody waiting to love him? What if there was somebody whom he would love again? Was it possible? Edward felt his heart stir. No, he told his heart. Not possible. Not possible.

“Open your heart,” she said gently. “Someone will come. Someone will come for you. But first you must open your heart.”

Someone will come.

No, no, he told himself. Don’t believe it. Don’t let yourself believe it.

Someone will come for you.

and the green outrageous hopeful light of spring.

Edward Tulane waited.

Edward Tulane waited.

Someone will come; someone will come for you.

Someone did come.

Someone will come, Edward said. Someone will come for me.

She held him in the same ferocious, tender way Sarah Ruth had held him. Oh, thought Edward, I remember this.

“A rabbit,” said Maggie again. “I want him.”

She put her hand on the locket that hung around her neck. And Edward saw then that it was not a locket at all. It was a watch, a pocket watch. It was his watch. “Edward?” said Abilene. Yes, said Edward. “Edward,” she said again, certain this time. Yes, said Edward, yes, yes, yes. It’s me.

Once, oh marvelous once, there was a rabbit who found his way home.