 
No One Will Ever Find Out

By E.A. Young

Published by E.A. Young at Smashwords

Copyright 2001 E.A. Young

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter 1

"Can't you wait till I get my finger out before you put the tape on?" Tyrone snapped.

"Sorry," Kriston said.

"Thank you."

My brothers and I huddled in our dimly lit basement and tried to wrap presents for Mother's and Father's Days. "Hold the tape up," Tyrone said, folding the crumpled blue wrapping paper at one corner.

Kriston peeled off a slip of tape and pressed it against the wrinkled edge.

"I still don't see why we have to do this in the basement when there's more light up in the attic," I said, rolling up the rest of the tissue paper.

Terence shook his head and said, "I told you, we'd look too suspicious going upstairs first thing in the morning. What if they heard us?"

So we had agreed to sneak down into the dark dreary pit. They figured that by us hiding in the basement, our parents would not find out about their gifts ahead of time.

A draft of air swirled past my neck and I watched a spider web float across the corner of the room. I shivered.

I wished Tyrone would hurry up and finish wrapping the presents. What if there was something living between that monster of a furnace and the dusty brick walls? This old basement could have been hiding a lot of secrets or traps or something worse.

"You don't want to blow this like you did the last time, do you Justine?" Tyrone asked sarcastically.

I stared at him, my grimace showing eight years of torment. "What did I blow?"

He belched and pulled off another long strip of tape.

"You could have warned us, you know!" Nine-year-old Terence said, fanning the wrapping paper in the air.

"Shhh!" Kriston, aged seven, whispered, keeping close watch of the staircase.

I leaned toward Tyrone. "What did I blow?"

"The birthday surprise we planned for Mom," he explained. "We had the cake all ready; the ice cream was set; the balloons were coming . . . ."

"The cake was half-cooked," I interrupted. "You mixed all the different ice cream flavors together. If anybody ate anything they would've gotten sick. And you totally destroyed Mom's kitchen." I reminded him. "You think she would've enjoyed seeing that?"

"It was your job to clean it up before she got home," Terence explained. "We can't depend on you when you cut us short like that, Justine."

Tyrone rocked his head. "She can't take the pressure."

I stared at him. "What do you mean 'I can't take the pressure'?"

"You were supposed to have everything straightened up before she got home. But, what happens? Mom walks in there and screams." He pointed a strip of tape at me. "It was your responsibility to get rid of all that junk before she saw it. You blew it." He leaned closer and whispered, "You can't take the pressure."

I glared at my reflection in his brown eyes. I couldn't think of anything to say. They totally destroy the kitchen, but it's my fault?

Terell, who was five years old, curled the ribbon around his forefinger. "Admit it Justine, you blew it for all of us. But that's okay, we still love you."

Reaching for the storage box, I accidentally knocked the spool of tape out of Kriston's hand. It rolled across the concrete floor and into a dark corner.

"Now, see what you did?" Kriston scolded. "Go bring it back."

Sulking, I got up and walked around him.

Then I froze. It was dark behind the large boxes that were stacked beside the washing machine and on top of the dryer. I couldn't see where the tape had rolled. I moved one foot forward, pointing it toward the dark corner, when I heard a scratch from the pipes and strands of electrical wires roped across the ceiling.

My skin felt as if invisible needles were pricking through it. I squatted back down in the circle my brothers had formed while wrapping the presents. "I couldn't find it."

"This will do," Tyrone announced, holding the box up. He began to peel off more red ribbon to cut.

I glimpsed up at the small square window at the top of the brick wall, where our three huskies were sniffing at the windowsill. With deep thick chests, smoke-gray fur down their backs, and long, white, woolly undercoats, Precious, Princess, and King kept their heads low and watched our every move.

"King!" Kriston called out, waving his hand. "Stop scratching the window frame."

"Shhh!" Terence protested. "Not so loud." He walked over to the window and tapped a dusty old broomstick against the glass.

King pressed his thick paws against the other side of the pane and wagged his furry tail, waiting for someone to let him in.

I sighed with relief when I realized that the sound I had heard was only King scratching at the window. We didn't play with the huskies much. They always slobbered kisses over everyone they knew, except for Clarence, Tyrone's best friend. They never kissed him.

We used to own Dobermans for protection, and they never bothered Clarence either. Our protectors ran away a long time ago. Pop still believed Clarence had something to do with them leaving.

I glanced again around the basement. Our huge moving shadows created from the high ceiling light, clouded the walls. When I felt something brush against my shoulder, I looked, but nothing was behind me.

Shivering, I turned to face my brothers and concentrated on putting the tissue paper back into the storage box. At least the huskies would protect me, I thought to myself, in case something did jump out from the dark.

"Are you done yet?" Terell asked Tyrone. "Hurry up before Mom wakes up."

The ceiling light shone weak spotlights on top of their brown foreheads, on the edge of their noses, and the bottom of their chins. They didn't pay any attention to the dark silence surrounding the outside of our circle, or what might have been lurking there. Wrapping presents was their only concern.

I held the storage box closer and watched Tyrone loop the ribbon into a bow and tape it in the middle of the present.

"That's not how you do it," Kriston explained and plucked the bow off.

I looked again out the basement window at a crack of blue sky and streaks of white clouds drifting beyond the tall, thin blades of grass growing alongside the windowsill. A bumblebee landed on top of a blooming dandelion.

I stopped shivering and felt a tingle run up my back.

Soon, after being stuck behind fifth-grade desks all day waiting for the bell to ring, my friends and I would be free to run under that blue sky and into the warm spring air.

Mother's Day meant that summer had almost arrived and the rain would stop. Days would start to get warmer, and we could spend more time outdoors before the sun went down.

Suddenly, the bumblebee flew off the dandelion and up into the sky.

I knew that, just like the flowers that were coming out from where they had been hiding all winter, all of my summer plans would soon be in full bloom.

I always saw the best show of flowers in mid-May. The warm weather made everything open up, and when wearing lighter clothes, I could start to feel the wind against my skin.

"Okay, now where do we hide Pop's?" Terell asked, sitting on a 20-pound bag of dog food.

Mom's present was ready. It was an optic fiber flower lamp that glowed pretty colors. Pop's present was what Tyrone considered the perfect Father's Day gift: a psychedelic colored T-shirt. I thought I had missed some private talk among them because I couldn't figure out where Tyrone would get an idea like that for a present. Every time I decided on a gift, they would always tell me how wimpy it was and then go pick out something else. This time they decided without me.

We always saved enough money to buy both Mother's and Father's Day presents at the same time. That way we wouldn't let Pop down in case we became short on cash when his holiday arrived.

"Hide his in Terence and Tyrone's room," I replied, getting up. "Just put it anywhere, he'll never find it."

Glad to leave that spooky place, I clicked off the basement light.

We went up the stairs to look for Mom. She was still pregnant. Somebody must have miscalculated because 10 months had passed and still nothing had happened. She had been back and forth to the hospital, and the doctor said the baby could be born at any time.

We were still waiting.

"Let Austin hold it," Terence directed Kriston after we placed the storage boxes inside the hall closet.

Kriston gave the present to Austin.

"Don't swing it," Terence instructed Austin. "Hold it up in front of you."

Austin, the youngest at three, hugged the large present with both arms as Kriston, using his knees, gently butted him up the stairs.

"It'll be the greatest Mother's Day gift she ever got," Tyrone exclaimed. "Man, I'm good." He patted himself on the back.

"You wouldn't have picked this if they weren't sold out of soap on a rope," Kriston criticized.

Tyrone took a swipe at Kriston and missed.

"Not so loud," I told them.

When we reached the top of the stairs, I could hear water splashing in the bathroom sink. The fresh scent of soap drifted down the hallway.

I was used to the sound of water splashing because I had been hearing rain hitting the roof and windows for weeks. But soon the rain will stop and we won't be stuck indoors all day waiting for the sun to come out. Soon we will put the raincoats away and be free like that bumblebee to go wherever we wanted, to the park or zoo. We will have weekend barbecues in our backyard, stay overnight at Grandma's because we didn't have to get up for school the next day, visit the carnivals when they come to town, take cold snacks with us to the playground on the hottest days, go for car rides. I could skate up and down the sidewalk.

"What are you smiling at?" Terence asked me as we headed toward our parents' room.

I didn't answer him. I just let my secret thoughts carry me away down the hall.

We'd start going to the beach and amusement parks again. Ducking under gigantic waves, we'd ride the flumes and get splashed: that was what summer was all about.

"Wait up a second," Kriston called and tossed Pop's gift into the older boys' room. The present landed on top of the clothes and toys piled on their floor. "Okay, let's go."

We snuck down the hall and into our parents' bedroom.

Mom was buried under the bed-sheet, her huge belly rising each time she breathed. I wondered if the baby could feel her breathing. The mattress sagged under Mom's back. How could she hold all that weight? How could the bed hold all that weight?

Terell leaned over Mom's face.

"She still 'sleep?" Kriston asked him.

Terell was studying her hard. "Yep," he said.

I lifted Austin, still holding the present, and handed him to Terence. He placed him beside Mom, and then I tickled her feet.

She moaned and after a few more tickles, pushed the sheet back and saw us surrounding her.

"Happy Mother's Day!" we cheerily greeted her.

"Ooh!" she cried, trying to sit up. "I forgot all about Mother's Day." She plucked a tissue off the nightstand and rubbed it against her nose.

How could she forget about Mother's Day after having six kids and with another on the way?

Austin gave her the present. She peeled the wrapping paper off, lifted the box flap, and pulled out the glass vase.

A heavy sigh. "This is beautiful," she whispered, turning the vase to fully view the flower arrangement inside.

"Plug it in," Terence beckoned.

Tyrone straightened the cord and searched for an outlet behind the bed.

I switched on the vase and tiny square dotted lights blinked along the edge of the flowers.

"Where in the world did you find this?" she asked.

"We saw it at the mall," Kriston said.

Mom watched the colored lights blinking. "My babies," she cried and hugged everybody.

"Celeste, did you see wh-" Pop froze right at their bedroom door. He stared at the present and then his eyes bulged and the skin above his nose crinkled, almost as if he were getting ready to cry.

"I think we should go," I whispered, remembering all the poor choice of gifts Pop had to receive in the past. I felt terrible that my brothers and I could never agree on a special gift for Pop.

"Ah, yeah, Ma," Terence said, giving Mom a quick kiss.

We all kissed her and rushed out fast as Pop's bulging eyes swung from the present, to Mom, and then back to us.

After we left their bedroom, Terence whispered, "His face was acting funny again."

"It's not our fault Mother's Day comes first," Kriston exclaimed, while galloping down the hall.

"Shhh!" we told him, in case they had been able to hear us.

"See?" I whispered to Tyrone. "If you'd let me pick something out once in a while, he wouldn't be this upset." I elbowed him in the rib. "I could pick out something nice instead of all that junky mess you keep getting him."

"Tch!" Tyrone responded. "Yeah, right." He knocked the basketball out from under the hall table and kicked it at Kriston. It missed and added another dent into the wall.

"Nnaah, nnaaah!" Kriston spun around and gave Tyrone the tongue. Austin raced for the ball behind Kriston and got caught up in Kriston's legs. Kriston came down with a bang but missed Austin by a foot.

I left them to battle it out and slipped into my room to change into my shorts and grab my house keys.

Compared to all the disgusting presents Pop had to put up with in the past, I could understand why he would get upset. I wish my brothers would stop deciding for me and let me choose a gift for a change.

I stepped over board games and searched for house keys on my cluttered desk. I wrapped the gray coil key holder around my wrist and jiggled the keys. Then I noticed the stack of unread schoolbooks still scattered on the desk underneath crinkled loose-leaf paper. I hopped out of the room quick, knowing that they would still be there when I returned.

Outside, Austin and Terell sprinted toward the backyard. Kriston headed down one side of the street. Terence and Tyrone headed down the other.

I went next door to get my friend Courtney. We had plans to take the bus into Washington, D.C., to see Cheri, who had sprained her ankle in ballet class. Her mom had her bedridden for a week.

I knocked on the front door. "Courtney," I called. "You in there?"

A window creaked open. "Justine?"

I took two steps back and saw Courtney's head sticking out of their upstairs hall window. "You coming down?" I asked.

"You come up first," she instructed me and shut the window.

I pushed the door open and ran upstairs. "Hi," I said after I entered her bright pastel bedroom.

Every piece of furniture looked as though it had just been cleaned and polished. Even the air smelled fresh.

Courtney couldn't stand a messy room.

"Would you hand me my scissors?" she asked.

I grabbed the pair from her plastic tool case on her bookshelf.

A huge globe, a pencil case, a basket of rulers, and an inch-high stack of loose-leaf paper were neatly spaced out on her top bookshelf. On the lower shelf, a container of glue, a box of markers, and a stack of construction paper sat next to the thickest dictionary I'd ever seen.

The shelf on the other wall was loaded with 20 collections of classical literature she hadn't even read. She said she had them there "just in case." A row of encyclopedias lined the bottom shelf. Next to the books sat a basket of fancy pink and green stationary, as crisp and clean as on the day she first got them.

I watched Courtney, her thick black bangs dangling low, add the finishing touches to her mom's present.

She snatched a spool of tape off her neatly arranged desk. "This thing's getting on my nerves," she declared. "I still can't get it right." She folded the wrapping paper at an angle, smoothing the ends. It looked a lot better than Tyrone's wrapping job.

I sat down on her bed. "What is it?"

"It's a purse, handkerchief, and umbrella set," she said, pearl black eyes peeking through strands of hair. "Lavender."

"It's pretty wrapping paper," I told her.

"Yeah," she agreed. "What did you give your mom?"

"A flower arrangement in a glass vase. It blinks tiny colored lights."

"Did you wrap it yourself or have someone do it for you?"

"We did it ourselves."

"Did you use the clear tape so that it wouldn't show?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Don't remember."

"That's the best kind," she informed me. "It doesn't cover up the designs on the wrapping paper." She placed her last strand of tape across the edge and brushed it with her fingernails. "Well, as long as it was wrapped up nicely," she said. "That's the important part." She carried her gift out into the hall. "When Tanya comes, will you let her in?"

"Yeah."

Mom hadn't looked upset about the kind of tape we had used. She didn't even look like she cared that the wrapping paper was all wrinkled. She said that our present was beautiful, so I guessed that we had done all right.

I looked over at Courtney's chestnut dresser covered with a lacy pink doily. Red, purple, green, and blue storage totes were lined up on the floor in one corner. Sunlight from the window sparkled against the handles of the chestnut desk that sat in the far corner. Many times I've watched Courtney polish that desk.

A light breeze blew in through the open window, waving the sandy-colored, lace curtains. I slipped my shoe off and dug my toes into Courtney's smooth, deep blue carpet and pretended that I was already at the beach in front of the ocean.

After coming upstairs, Tanya joined me on the bed, her short curly brown hair playfully reflecting the ceiling light. "What's Cheri got planned today?" she asked.

"Nothing," I told her. "What can she do with a sprained ankle?"

"Get check-ups from Dr. Jones!" Tanya joked, grinning.

I looked at her. Tanya had a serious crush on every guy she saw, who had a slight chance of being cute, whether she knew him or not. Courtney didn't believe Tanya was boy-crazy; she thought Tanya was just plain crazy.

"At least with a sprained ankle, she doesn't have to worry about getting any shots," Tanya said, as she hopped up to look at herself in the full-length mirror that hung on Courtney's closet door. She straightened out the ruffles on her light-green blouse. "But, still, it's too bad we can't go with her for any more checkups."

"I never went with her in the first place," I told her, hating the thought of seeing any doctor.

"I know," she said. "I kept inviting you to come, but you kept saying 'no.'"

I watched Tanya adjust her dark-green skirt. I could never figure out why she felt she always had to investigate everything, especially if a boy was involved. That's mostly what got her into trouble. She never liked to think that she was missing out on something important, and to her, boys were important. If she lived with five brothers like I did, I wonder if she would be so interested.

"Come on. Let's go," she said, re-tying her dark-green hair ribbon.

"We have to wait for Courtney."

Just then, Courtney, frowning, slumped back into the room.

"What happened?" I asked her.

"She loved it," Courtney mumbled. "Come on. Papi's in one of his moods again." She snapped the light switch off. "I don't know why he gets such an attitude on Mother's Day. Father's Day is next month."

Tanya and I looked at each other. Why is it so hard for everybody to pick out a decent Father's Day gift? Nobody seems to know what their own fathers like. What would my Pop like?

We dashed down the staircase and out the front door. Rows of colorful houses lined the hilly streets that lead to the bus stop. A few early risers greeted the morning with us. Birds darted from tree to tree, crossing over our path.

Courtney and Tanya were walking on my left, near the curb, so while they walked a straight line, I was forced to dodge the bushes and branches that poked out from front lawns.

"Whew!" Courtney said, brushing her forehead with the back of her hand. "I hope Cheri's apartment is still air-conditioned."

Two drops of sweat ran down my forehead, down my neck, and all the way to my stomach, announcing more days of hot weather. The sun hadn't been so strong in a long time. My skin was tingling from the heat.

Walking under blossoming trees, I lifted my face to soak up the hot breeze as it filtered through the branches and shook the leaves.

"Look," Tanya said, pointing to a fully clothed little kid running under a lawn sprinkler.

"It's one of the rules of summer," Courtney said. "The weather gets hotter, and you feel a stronger pull toward the water." She waved her hand in front of her face. "You have to get wet in order for your body to stand the heat. Everybody knows that."

"Yeah, but he's getting his clothes all dirty," Tanya pointed out.

The little boy slapped his wet pants and waved his hands in the air and grinned. He tried to catch the crystal-clear water sprinkles in his mouth.

I wanted to run under the sprinkles with him and swallow every drop too.

"Oh, isn't it a beautiful day?" Tanya sang as she twirled around in front of us.

"Sure, if we didn't have to go to school tomorrow," Courtney said blandly.

"It won't be long before summer's here," Tanya stated. "Then there'll be no more books, no more studying for tests, no homework...."

No more uniforms, no heavy jackets, no hats and gloves. Soon it would be picnics, bike rides, camping out in the backyard, feeling the mist from sprinkles on front lawns, and eating ice cream on the front steps.

Excitement was bubbling inside me and I couldn't wait for summer to arrive. Suddenly, I started twirling around with Tanya. I wanted to get swooped up into that warm sunny air and float away with the clouds.

"Cheri should be coming back to school soon," Courtney said, interrupting my summer dance. "I heard Mami talking to Mrs. Simmins on the phone yesterday."

"I bet she can't wait," Tanya said seriously.

We crossed the street and continued down the next block.

"I've never seen anybody love school so much," Tanya said.

"Well, when you get all A's of course you love it," Courtney said as we trudged up the last hill.

Because our school was in D.C., we walked this same route every weekday. I never liked this street. Everything in this part of the neighborhood reminded me of how close I was getting to school. The only difference was that we weren't wearing our uniforms on a Sunday.

Most of the nuns in our school didn't wear their uniforms anymore, but we still had to wear our school outfits. Only the librarian and principal wore long habits and veils.

Courtney, Cheri, Tanya, and I had met way back in the first grade and four years later we were still best friends and still facing the same daily tortures . . . . Wait a minute, I said to myself. Why was I thinking about school? It was Sunday, day of rest.

"There's our bus!" Tanya announced.

The driver heard us screaming when we were still five houses away from the bus stop, so he waited.

"I almost got another lecture," Courtney said as she dropped her fare in the slot. "I don't know why he gets so jealous when I give Mami something. It's like he thinks the presents I give him aren't good enough." She narrowed her eyes and sat beside the window.

"What're you giving him for Father's Day?" I asked, sliding into the seat next to her.

"A cute little pair of patchwork shorts." She beamed. "Orange, beige, green, and yellow. He'll be so surprised." She clasped her hands.

My bottom jaw dropped. I feel sorry for him already.

"I won't have that problem when I get married," Tanya said, sitting in front of us.

"How do you know?" Courtney asked her.

"He'll already have everything," she reassured us, patting her cheeks.

I gazed out the window and tried to pretend that Tanya didn't even exist.

When we reached our stop, we hopped off the bus and walked over to Cheri's block. Kids carrying assortments of flowers and fancy envelopes scurried between buildings. I figured that they were either excited about surprising their mothers or rushing to get the gift-giving over with.

We headed down the path, closed in by green lawns and flower beds that led to the building's entrance.

"Justine," Courtney called, stopping abruptly in front of Cheri's building. "Wait a second." She took a deep breath and raised her face upward to take in the size of the towering high-rise.

Courtney had this thing about heights: If her destination was past the third floor she wouldn't go inside the building. She always thought a building too tall might one day collapse from pressure, and she was not going to be in there when it happened.

She had told me about her nightmare in which she was stuck in an elevator after the cables broke. I had blasted at her for waiting until we were in an elevator to tell me about her dream. The fact that Cheri lived on the 10th floor didn't help our nerves either, but her view was nice compared to what Courtney and I saw from our bedroom windows in Alexandria.

"Come on, Courtney," Tanya said. "Close your eyes and I'll hold your hand."

Courtney snorted at Tanya, took her last deep breath, and boldly marched into the lobby.

I pushed the button and we waited. One elevator came, and as Courtney gripped the front of her tank top, a kid and a tall man in a dark suit stepped out.

I followed Courtney inside and punched "10." I watched her as she braced her back against the wall as the doors began to close behind me.

I turned around. "Tanya!" I screamed and jammed my body between the doors.

"Aaaahh! You'll make us crash!" Courtney screeched, jumping up and down.

"Will you get in here, please?" I demanded, pushing the doors back open.

"Huh?" Tanya mumbled, still gazing at the man in the dark suit.

"Come on!"

She stumbled in as Courtney backed herself, shivering, into the corner again.

Sighing and wiping more sweat off my forehead, I pressed "10" again. The doors shut completely.

We went up while Courtney's stomach stayed down. The doors slid open on Cheri's floor, and Courtney was the first to run out. Cheri's apartment was the farthest one from the elevators. Courtney had already rung the bell when Tanya and I got to it.

"Hi," Mrs. Simmins greeted after she opened the door. "Cheri's in her room. She could use some company."

"Thanks," Courtney said. "Happy Mother's Day."

"Thank you!" Mrs. Simmins said, taking leave into the kitchen.

The light from Cheri's bedroom glowed at the end of the long dark hallway and made the corridor look like a tunnel.

"Hi," I said, peeking into her room. "How're you feeling?"

"Same as before," she said sadly, sitting up in her oak bed. "I'm sick of being here. I want to be free."

Even though Cheri was temporarily crippled, she could have been posing for a picture. She was lying on top of a large blue quilted bedspread that matched the curtains. Her shoulder-length, dark red hair shined. Her right leg was wrapped in bandages and raised two pillows above the mattress.

Cheri's mom was so upset when Cheri sprained her ankle that she took her to the hospital that same day. But the doctor said that the injury wasn't very serious, bandaged her up, and sent her home. Her mom had her bedridden anyway and wouldn't let her go back to school the following week.

I noticed Cheri's textbooks and school supplies arranged neatly on the bedside table. Cheri didn't have a bunch of books in her room like Courtney did; instead she had a library card.

"I am so bored!" she hollered.

"It won't be that bad," I remarked. "When that first day of freedom hits, you'll be right there in first period, free like us."

"Who's that guy living in your building?" Tanya asked.

Cheri stuck her nose up. "What guy?"

"That cute one in a business suit," Tanya said, resting her hand on her hip.

Courtney and I looked at each other and then sat on the edge of Cheri's bed to wait for Tanya to finish another investigation.

"Business suit?" Cheri questioned. "Oh, we've got new tenants upstairs."

"What floor?" Tanya asked.

"11."

"What apartment?"

"I don't know!" Cheri retorted, rubbing her bandaged ankle. "I don't live with them."

"What do you want to do today, Cheri?" Courtney asked, picking up a deck of cards from the dresser.

"I'm sick of playing cards," she said, "and I'm sick of watching that idiot box." Her light brown eyes flashed.

I thought only my parents called a TV set "an idiot box."

"And I'm sick of being stuck up here," she complained. "I want to go outside with the other kids."

"You tell your mom that?" I asked her.

"She says I can't, but I can sit by the window," she said disgustedly

I glimpsed at the clear blue sky through the mini-blinds, which covered the whole window frame. With the dreary days of gray clouds and mist gone, it was bright and picture clear again. You could see buildings and trees miles away.

I listened to the faint calls and shouts from kids playing down on the ground and could imagine how they looked running under the trees. Knowing that we would be out there with them soon gave me a sense of freedom.

"I don't want to sit by some window when everybody else can go outside." Cheri stared at herself through the large mirror on her dresser.

"We still haven't made our plans for the summer," Courtney said.

"I want another barbecue!" Tanya exclaimed.

"Why don't we go somewhere for a picnic?" Cheri suggested, eagerly sitting up. "How about Virginia Beach?"

"We did that last year," Tanya argued, flopping down on the bed.

"Yeah, but I missed it, remember?" Cheri replied.

"We could do Busch Gardens Williamsburg," Tanya suggested, raising her eyebrows.

"That would be cool," Cheri replied.

"Okay, wait a minute." Courtney put the cards back on top of the dresser and pulled out a sheet of loose-leaf paper from Cheri's notebook and grabbed a pen off the nightstand. "Now, last June your grandparents took you back to St. Vincent Island for a week. Are they doing it again this year?" she asked Tanya.

Tanya rolled her eyes up at the ceiling, and after thinking about it, shook her head. "No. My parents are coming up here for three weeks."

Courtney clicked the pen and made a note on the paper. "And you guys went to camp, right?" she pointed at me. "What's the deal this summer?"

I shrugged. "Nothing yet."

"Okay, well you left us around August," she said, lowering her head. "And everyone except Cheri went to Virginia Beach for Fourth of July weekend. Now, for this summer, so far we have one vote for a picnic at Virginia Beach." She looked at Cheri, who nodded.

Courtney tallied her response. "And one vote for a barbecue, right Tanya?"

"That was before I decided on Busch Gardens," she said.

"We can do both." Courtney shrugged one shoulder and scribbled on the sheet. "And my choice is outdoor hiking, Water Country USA, Marine Science Museum, and the caverns." She nodded to Cheri's cast. "You think you'll be out of that thing by June?"

"Sure."

Courtney looked down at her paper. "Okay, now, we've covered camping plans for August, vacation plans with family in June; we'll set the amusement park date for July. Hmm, let's see . . . what about the Labor Day picnic? We need to decide where we want to do that."

The hallway phone rang.

"We can have it outside the caverns?" Cheri suggested. "They have great parks."

"Done!" Courtney added the picnic to her list and drew a line across the bottom just as Cheri's mom walked in and announced: "Courtney, your mother called. She said for you to meet your father downstairs in a few minutes."

"Thanks, Mrs. Simmins." Courtney folded the paper evenly and placed it underneath the cards on Cheri's dresser. Tanya stood beside her, again fixing her hair ribbon while looking in the mirror.

"I'll mark all this down in my summer pamphlets," Courtney said, heading for the door.

"We'd better go too," I said, getting up. "I hope you get better soon."

I hope so too," Cheri mumbled, whacking her pillow. "I'm not missing another beach picnic."

I felt bad leaving Cheri by herself. She had a lot of fun things to keep her company though: toys stashed away in the closet, games piled under the bed, and the VCR in her parents' room.

But I felt better with the thought of going back outside.

"Can't we take the stairs?" Courtney begged as we reached the elevators.

"I'm not walking down 10 flights, Courtney," I said, punching the elevator button.

"I can't walk down by myself," she wailed.

"Why can't we take a little peek up on 11?" Tanya asked me as we boarded the elevator.

"We don't even know anybody up there," I replied. Courtney was backed up against the wall again. I waved my thumb and explained, "Besides, she can't survive a ride to the 11th floor."

"She can wait outside."

"I'm not riding up to the 11th floor," I snapped.

The doors opened on the lobby and Courtney shot out.

"Oh, come on Justine," Tanya begged and grabbed my arm. "Nobody will even know. We don't have to get off. Just peek."

"No!" I said. "Turn me loose." I broke away, accidentally flinging my gray wrist key holder right between the car doors.

I squinted down through the door slits at my keys lying at the bottom of the elevator shaft. My heart sank.

"Look what you did!" I cried. How was I going to get my keys out of there? What if someone who knows where I live finds them? "My parents will kill me!"

Maybe I should rush home and get Terence or Kriston. They might know what to do. Or should I go back upstairs and get Cheri? But she's stuck in bed, and Mrs. Simmins was home. She might report the incident to my mom.

I left Tanya speechless in the elevator and rushed outside. Courtney was leaning against the fence. "Where's Tanya?"

"In the elevator."

"How come?"

I sighed, nervously scratching my head. "My keys are in the elevator shaft."

Courtney straightened up. "What'd you put them in the elevator shaft for?"

"Tanya made me drop them."

Courtney glimpsed inside the lobby. "Well, look," she suggested, "go see if you can find somebody in a maintenance worker uniform and ask him to get them out."

Yeah, yeah! That should work!

I started at one end of Cheri's building and decided to circle it. In back, I found two security guards talking near a ramp that stretched down into the basement.

I walked over, wondering if anybody else ever dropped anything down an elevator shaft before or if I was the first. Could there be a law against clumsy key dropping?

Drops of sweat raced down both sides of my face, dampening the top of my T-shirt. I didn't bother to wipe them off. I walked up closer to the guards, wishing I could turn invisible. What if someone was watching from one of those many windows?

The guards kept talking as I approached them. "Excuse me," I mumbled and pointed at Cheri's building. "I accidentally dropped my keys down your elevator shaft." I held my breath and waited to see what they would do.

They looked at each other and grinned. One reached for the set of keys fastened to his belt and then headed down the ramp. The other one squatted beside me. "Don't look so worried," he said. "How about you wait in front of the lobby and I'll bring them to you, okay?"

"Okay," I echoed.

Hoping Tanya was lost somewhere, I went back around to the other side of the building.

"What happened?" Courtney asked me.

I told her about the security guards and sat next to her on the steps, but my eyes were fixed on Tanya. "He told me to wait here." Then I closed my fingers to stop them from shaking.

After a while, the guard came from around back with something glittering in his hand. I hoped it was my keys!

"Ooooo!"

The pit of my stomach dropped, I just knew that Tanya was the one "ooing."

The guard walked up to me. "Here you go," he said, cupping the keys into my sweaty hands. "Hold on tight this time." He smiled and disappeared inside the building.

Courtney got up. "You ready? Let's go . . . Tanya? Tanya!"

I got up and headed down the walkway, holding my keys tight and wiping sweat off my face. Boy, was I glad Courtney was my friend. She sure knew what to do. I would never have thought to look for someone who worked around the neighborhood. Maybe the people who lived there have lost things down elevator shafts before and that's why the guard got it out so fast. It could have been a routine thing.

I stared at Courtney's thick bangs dancing in the wind as she walked past the high bushes, which were dotted with yellow flowers.

I wondered what it was like to feel confidence like that. At least now, I consoled myself, I didn't have to worry about my parents finding out and yelling at me for being careless.

"Papi comes around this corner," Courtney said, brushing strands of hair away from her eyes.

When we reached the corner, Courtney's father was just pulling up against the curb. But as we got closer, I noticed something didn't look right inside the car.

Mr. Alteza was sitting in the passenger's seat with both arms braced against the dashboard, and Courtney's 16-year-old brother was in the driver's seat.

I paused at the driver's side door.

"Papi what is he doing?" were the first words out of Courtney's mouth.

Nothing would come out of Mr. Alteza's mouth. A big man, even bigger than Pop, but Courtney's father was slow to anger. He had thick hair and pearl black eyes just like his daughter had.

Adrian was sitting behind the steering wheel with a gloomy expression on his face. Tall, thin, and not too bright, according to Courtney, he always seemed to have a lot of girlfriends.

"What do you think you're doing?" Courtney asked him.

Adrian scowled back at her. Then slowly, Mr. Alteza's head turned toward us. Adrian noticed, and slumped under his father's penetrating stare. Then he opened the car door and slithered out.

Mr. Alteza slid behind the steering wheel and rubbed the back of his neck. Adrian walked around the car and got in on the passenger's side, but Mr. Alteza glared at him even harder.

Adrian quietly got out of the car again and opened the door to the back.

Courtney must have known better than to ask again. She just hopped into the back seat beside her big brother. I squirmed in next to her.

"We have to wait for Tanya," Courtney announced.

It was a good thing she said it.

Mr. Alteza peered through the rearview mirror.

"Why is she all the way on the other side of the development?"

We glimpsed out the back window and saw Tanya running up the street toward us. "Why'd you leave me?" she asked, after she had caught up. "I didn't know which way you guys went." She slammed the door shut.

"Why didn't you ask the guard?" I said, being smart.

She stopped arranging her skirt and shot her eyes at me.

"Don't look at me like that!" I fired off. "You put my keys in the elevator shaft!"

"Well if you would've come upstairs like I'd asked you, you wouldn't have lost your keys in the first place!" she shot back.

"Look—" I started to rail until we both noticed Mr. Alteza's piercing black eyes staring us into silence. As soon as we were quiet, he shifted the gear handle and drove us home.

***

"Did you ever start that English paper?" I asked Tanya, who was sitting on a lawn chair in Altezas' backyard.

She curved her eyebrows. "We have to do a paper?"

"Don't you remember? Last Thursday we had to begin looking up stuff to write a composition. It's got to be about something that's important to us and we have to explain why it's important. It's due the first week in June?"

"Oh, that." She waved her hand like it wasn't of concern to her and leaned farther back in the chair.

Behind her, the backyard slanted upwards, stopping at a little hill covered with bushes and rocks. Square slats of wood layered a wide primitive staircase down to the back of the house. A brown wooden fence surrounded the yard. Neighbors' trees spread their branches over the Alteza yard, giving the corners shade.

With a branch, I dug a small tunnel in the soil for a centipede to crawl through. Instead he went around it. He was lucky. He didn't have to face Sister Bernadette with a composition on some weird topic like I did.

"I hate English," I said. "I think I hate math more." I thought a moment. "Nah, I hate English." I tossed the stick into the bushes.

Music suddenly blasted throughout Courtney's entire house, scaring away the birds from the shady trees. A few minutes later Courtney came out hugging a box of pretzels. "Want some?" she hollered over the din.

We each grabbed a handful. I was right in the middle of one when suddenly there was silence.

"You have this on for the people next door too?" Mr. Alteza's voice traveled all the way down from the second-floor window.

"I'm getting dressed," Adrian replied.

"Well, keep it down."

"He really messed up this time," Courtney predicted, stretching out on another lawn chair.

"Who?" I asked.

"Adrian," she said. She shoved the pretzel in her mouth, and then she looked over at their kitchen screen door. "Come," she instructed us. "Papi's in there explaining the whole thing now."

We followed Courtney alongside the house, ducking under the row of her mother's tall plants, and squatted beneath the kitchen window to listen.

". . . a complete disaster," we heard Mr. Alteza say, and then the refrigerator door slammed shut. "He gets to this intersection and asks me, 'Okay Dad, what do I do at this light?' and I said to him, 'What is it telling you to do?' and he said, 'One's telling me to turn right; another one is telling me to stop; another is telling me to turn left . . . no wait . . . it's telling them to turn . . . no wait,' and that's when I told him to pull over to the curb and get out of my car."

We looked at each other.

"Did you really think he was ready to handle the road so soon?" Mrs. Alteza asked.

"I don't trust that boy to handle a bike . . . ." Mr. Alteza's voice faded, as if he was going into another room.

I leaned against the side of the house. No wonder Mr. Alteza had both hands gripping the dashboard.

"So when does he take the road test?" Tanya asked, as we crawled away from the window.

"I don't know," Courtney replied. "Papi let Adrian practice today because there aren't that many cars on the road on Sundays. But he's going to need a lot more practice." She closed the box of pretzels. "He didn't want Mami to know how he goofed up again, but my parents tell each other everything."

I stopped licking the salt off my pretzel and grasped the key holder tighter. I wondered if my parents told each other everything. Well, at least they'd never find out about my keys.

"Let's watch some movies," Tanya suggested, brushing crumbs off her skirt.

"We'll bring the tapes over to your house and watch them on your set," Courtney told me. "Everybody's going out so I'm staying with you guys."

"Adrian too?" Tanya asked.

"Yeah," she said. "He's got a date. Papi's dropping him off and then treating Mami to dinner and a show."

"So I guess that means he's not driving?" Tanya teased, cracking her last pretzel.

Out the corner of my eye and through the screen door, I saw Adrian coming down the stairs. He had on a black suit and a thin tie. His pointy black shoes shined. He waved at us.

"Look at him," Courtney said. "Thinks he's cute."

He strutted down the steps while arranging his tie and almost tripped over the landing's mat.

Then Mr. Alteza, in a dark gray suit, rushed out the door jiggling the car keys. "Let's go," he told Adrian, who was still gazing into the hall mirror.

"Where's your mom?" I asked Courtney.

"Probably waiting in the car," she said on our way to their den. She picked out a few VCR tapes from their wall unit, and then we went over to my house.

That night after supper, I headed upstairs to my room. I stared at all the school supplies sprawled across my desk and started to shove everything into my book bag. I placed the books that I didn't need any more on the floor beside my desk along with all the old notes I had written down for the year. Then I noticed how cluttered my floor looked.

I kicked off my shoes and tossed them inside my bedroom closet. Most of my winter shoes were on the closet floor instead of on the shoe rack hanging on the door. I picked up my shoes and rubber boots and placed them on the rack. That cleared a large space of the closet floor.

I looked at my brown summer sandals and started to smile. It wouldn't be long before I would be wearing them out to our favorite seafood restaurants, on the beach, or at a picnic. It only took that one hot-weather activity to officially start my summer, and wearing the sandals would really set the mood. Then I could forget all about the teachers, who would still be sitting behind classroom desks all day and probably wondering what fun was in store for their students.

I picked up the sandals and brushed off grains of sand left over from the previous summer. I placed them neatly back on the floor and turned around. Eying my books beside the desk, I stopped smiling. I didn't want to look at them all summer; I would have rather looked at my sandals. Hey wait a minute, they could trade places. I picked up the sandals and placed them beside my desk. Then I carried the schoolbooks and all my old homework over to my closet and set them on the floor in the corner where I wouldn't have to look at them. I piled them all in one stack to leave some space for my backpack, and then I shut the door.

Boy, it really feels like summer is coming now.

I walked over to my desk, picked up my assignment pad, and flipped it open to see what was due Monday. I had to multiply and divide 10 sets of three-digit numbers. I had to read a chapter on electrical energy and answer questions. I had to locate, underline, and label direct and indirect objects in 8 sentences.

I sighed at the window. How could I get all this work done in one night?

I pulled out my social studies test from last Wednesday. I had gotten a D. Sister Bernadette gave me extra credit work to bring my grade up, but I hadn't gotten around to doing it yet. I didn't think one D would show on my report card anyway.

I looked at the extra credit assignment: "Describe in full detail a series of events that led to the American Revolution." I glimpsed at my closet door where my social studies notes were now buried. Did she want all the series of events that led to the American Revolution? That sounded like a two-paged written report. Would the extra credit really make that much of a difference on my grade?

I was thinking about if and how to tackle the assignment when Pop stuck his head in the door. "Did you go over all your homework?"

No response.

"Go over your homework," he ordered.

I parked myself at the desk as he shut the door. I gazed out the window, up at the full moon, and took a deep breath of the night air.

I had heard how the moon affected people and the earth in the strangest way. Pop had talked about it when he moved my desk in front of the window. He had said that the moon and strange behavior had something to do with my schoolwork, but I hadn't been able to figure out what he meant.

The sky was filled with twinkling stars, but they were not as bright as the moon; its glow was so strong that I could see thin clouds stretched across it like two silver linings.

I looked across our narrow alley at Courtney's bedroom window and saw her sitting on the edge of her bed painting her toenails. Her foot was on top of a paper towel to keep the polish from staining her bedspread.

Well, at least I wasn't by myself.

Chapter 2

"Get out of the bathroom, Justine!" Tyrone's voice could penetrate doors.

I wrung my washcloth and flung it on the rack. I turned the hot water off and ran my hands under the faucet. Shutting my eyes, I flung the cool droplets against my face, giving my cheeks and forehead an ocean spray. When the weather got really hot, the water would feel even more refreshing. I turned the cold water off, dried my hands, and opened the door. As I stepped out, Tyrone pinched me and went in.

Then Pop sauntered up the stairs in his smoke-gray terry cloth bathrobe. "Get out of there!" he thundered at Tyrone, who was splashing soapy water everywhere.

Startled, Tyrone leaped out of the bathroom. Pop budged in and closed the door while Tyrone looked at me as if it was my fault that he had lost his turn.

His soft brown eyes and dark curly hair could fool other people into thinking he was cute, but his good looks didn't dupe me. I went to my room to change into my uniform.

Pop cooked breakfast every morning, and if we were not out of the bathroom when he was done then it was our tough luck. That was his way of getting us dressed fast. He worked in business finance and had arranged to spend some mornings at home until the baby came.

"How do you do this?" Terell asked, fumbling with his belt buckle as we stumbled into the kitchen. Another Tyrone look-alike, Terell only differed from my other brothers in height. Pop's to blame for all their looks.

Kriston was helping Terell when the phone rang. The rest of us sat at the table. Hot-cakes, dripping with thick maple syrup, were stacked at least six inches high in the center of the table. Sausage patties, fresh from the oven, sizzled on a separate platter next to them.

I started loading my plate.

"What's this?" Terell asked, pulling a folded envelope out from Kriston's backpack. He opened it.

"You will write 'I will not disturb others while they are working.' 15 times and have it signed," Tyrone read, leaning over Terell's shoulder. "Where's Pop's signature?"

"I didn't show it to him yet," Kriston explained.

"What're you waiting for?" Terell asked.

Kriston lowered his head. "He might get mad."

"Tch!" Tyrone said, "No he won't." He snatched the note from Terell's hand. "Justine, sign this."

"For what?"

"So he can turn it in."

"I can't do that," I exclaimed. "You want me to get in trouble too?"

"Just trace Pop's name." Tyrone searched the cabinet drawers. He pulled out a plumber's receipt. "See here's one." He pointed at Pop's signature on the bottom.

"I'm not going to sign Pop's name there. He'll find out."

"How?" Tyrone asked.

"I don't know," I said. "But he will."

"This isn't something serious like getting into a fight or cheating on a test," Tyrone said. "All he did was talk." He looked at Kriston. "You learned your lesson, right?"

Kriston nodded innocently.

"Okay, fine." Tyrone shoved the paper in front of me. The others crowded around to see if I would sign it.

I stared at Kriston's grim face. He did look sorry. Should I sign it? What if Pop found out and my punishment turned out worse than what Kriston would get from him?

"Nobody will know," Tyrone pressed.

"Nobody will know what?"

We all turned around. Terence had walked in and dropped his backpack in the dinette-chair.

"That Kriston had to write 'I will not disturb others while they are working.' 15 times," Terell explained.

"How can you be so sure they won't find out?" Terence asked, pouring juice into his glass.

"'Cause he didn't show it to anybody yet," Terell said.

Terence looked at him. "Then how come Pop's upstairs talking to Miss Wilkin now?"

Kriston's eyes widened at the thought of his second-grade teacher talking to Pop. "Miss Wilkin is here?" he cried.

"He's talking to her on the phone," Terence explained. "When he gets off he'll be looking for you." He sat down in his chair.

Kriston started panting hard.

Heavy feet began to clump down the stairs.

Tyrone shoved the receipt back in the drawer, and I hopped over to wrap my arms around Kriston.

"Kriston," Pop called, rushing into the kitchen. "Where's that paper I need to sign?" He leaned over the table, flipped his ball point out from his shirt pocket, and read the letter.

Pop wrote his name on the bottom of the note and clicked his pen. "Hurry up and get ready for school," he said pointedly, heading back up the stairs.

Stunned, we all looked at each other.

"That's it?" Tyrone said. "No lecture, no nothing?"

Kriston lifted the paper from the table and looked at the signature. He raised his head at Tyrone and gave him his biggest grin, showing all nine of his front teeth.

***

"That was kind of stupid, giving a surprise vocabulary quiz so close to the last day of school," Tanya said, sitting next to me on the bus that afternoon.

"And on a Monday!" Courtney agreed, peeling a banana.

A corner of my vocabulary quiz sheet was sticking out from my notebook. I lifted it up and peeked at my grade. Only one out of all six answers was right. I sighed and stashed the folded sheet at the bottom of my backpack. I'd bury it in my closet later.

I didn't see what the big deal was. I didn't think one little quiz could harm us. School would be over soon anyway.

I slouched in my seat and stared out the window to count the dandelions, the different colored flowers that were popping out from the grass, and the bushes along the street. I wondered how many bumblebees were flying over the blooming buds. Wide green leaves in the trees above fluttered from the light breeze, waving at me to get off the bus and play under them.

I wanted summer to arrive fast.

"I forgot, where're we going?" Tanya asked.

Nobody answered.

"Oh, right, Cheri's." She suddenly remembered we were bringing back Cheri's graded homework. Cheri studied at home all week so that she wouldn't fall behind.

At her stop, we stepped off the air-conditioned bus and out into the bright, hot sunshine. The back of a third-floor air conditioner was dripping water on the new baby buds that were starting to bloom on the narrow lawn alongside the building. I guessed the people who lived on the third floor were already bothered by the coming hot weather.

"Don't be long," Courtney said. "I want to get started calling up places to see about making our reservations." She pulled out her summer pamphlets from her backpack.

"I thought you started that last night," Tanya said.

"It was too late," she explained. "Besides, there's no office open on Mother's Day."

A butterfly with bright wings soared past her nose. More were leaping from flower to flower on all the lawns around us. Birds whistled from high branches.

I felt warm sunlight cover my skin, the same way it covered the plant leaves, which we learned about in science. I wasn't made up of chlorophyll, but I felt my skin tingle with energy just the same.

Courtney waited downstairs in front of the building, going through her pamphlets, while we brought Cheri's homework and notes from the blackboard up to her. This act of treason wasn't our idea. Sister Bernadette had suggested it. We wouldn't do this to Cheri. We wouldn't do it to our worst enemy, but Sister said that it wouldn't be fair for Cheri to miss out on important notes just because she was bedridden. Cheri had agreed.

"Come on, hurry up!" Tanya nudged me in the back, hard.

I glimpsed at Courtney leaning against the fence. She shrugged.

I didn't know why she was so rushed, but Tanya pressed the elevator button five times before it came. On our way up, I saw she had a funny twinkle in her right eye, but I couldn't figure out why.

When the door opened, Tanya rushed down the hall. Cheri met us at her apartment door, and Tanya handed her the graded work and a sheet of paper with the notes written down on it.

"You guys want to come in and study with me?" Cheri asked.

"No, that's all right," Tanya told her and grabbed my arm.

"Where's Courtney?" Cheri hollered as we headed back down the hall.

"Downstairs waiting," Tanya yelled back. "See you tomorrow."

I heard Cheri shut her front door.

When we got back to the elevators, Tanya snatched my finger as I reached out to push the button. "Stop!" she said. "It's better if we sneak up the stairs."

"Huh?" I said.

She pulled me to the stairway at the other end of the hall and crept up to the 11th floor. I caught up with her at the door as she raised her curly head to the window.

I dropped onto the stairs and waited. She threw her book bag down at me. "Can we leave now?" I asked after five minutes had passed.

"No!" she whispered loudly. "We've only been here a couple of seconds!"

"What if nobody's home?"

"Then he'll be coming home!" she retorted. "Now, will you shut up?"

I leaned my head against the banister and daydreamed while staring at layers of dusty beige paint peeling off the wall.

Suddenly I heard something below. It sounded like the hinges creaking on a door farther down. Maybe a maintenance man had entered the stairway. I watched the row of steps below and waited for more sounds, but nothing else came. I tightened my grip on my backpack and looked up at Tanya. She wouldn't move her head away from the window. "I think I heard something," I whispered.

"Shhh!"

Frowning, I braced my back against the wall and tried to hide behind both book bags.

How could Tanya go off on some wacky idea just like that? She never thought about the trouble she could be getting into or getting somebody else into. She was different from Courtney by a mile. I wished I were downstairs in front of the building with her now.

"Oooo! The elevator's opening!" Tanya whispered before her face went blank.

"What is it?" I asked her.

"Some dumb woman," she said. "She went down the other way."

"She might come back."

"She's not coming back," she told me.

I peered down the steps. "What if somebody else shows up?"

"No one else is out there."

I frowned harder. "Well, then, let's go."

She grunted. "I want to find out where he lives."

"What's the big deal in finding out where he lives?"

"Will you stop asking me these stupid questions?" she snapped.

I sighed. This was Cheri's building, not mine. She had the right to go wherever she wanted, but I didn't. It would be different if she was with us on Tanya's wild adventure, but she wasn't.

"Tanya let's go. We're going to get into trouble."

"Will you shhh?" she said. "Nobody can see us and he'll be here any minute now."

"Why can't we wait in front of the building with Courtney?" I pleaded.

She twirled, her mouth ready to say something, when suddenly her eyes widened. Not at me, at something behind me.

Slowly I turned my head back, directly into the face of a security guard, not the one who had gotten my keys out of the shaft, but the other quieter one. I got a good look at his sleepy brown eyes and trim mustache, and I figured he got a good look at me.

I cringed, trying to hide behind my book bag. Tanya grinned and saluted him.

Still not speaking, he directed us to follow him down to the 10th floor. Then he pressed for the elevator.

I suddenly had a pretty good idea how Courtney felt when she rode the elevator. I froze like a statue and kept my eyes fixed to the door. I couldn't even move a finger in case somebody might notice. My heart was pounding. Tanya stood next to the guard with a dopey expression on her face as if she was being escorted to some important event like a ballroom dance. Couldn't she see what was happening? I wanted to vanish into the hot air.

Finally, the elevator door opened on the lobby, and I followed a grinning Tanya outside.

Courtney, still waiting, asked, "Where were you?"

"Just come on," I whispered, grabbing her arm and tugging her past the high bushes. I shut my eyes a minute to wring out the tears of embarrassment.

That guard would remember my face each time I stepped into Cheri's neighborhood. The tip of my ears and the back of my neck stung and shivers went down my spine as the thought raced back and forth in my head.

Tanya and Courtney stopped at the bus sign. I kept going farther down the block.

"Justine, where are you going?" Courtney called after me.

I ducked my head and zigzagged between passengers coming in and out of the train station. I wanted to get out of the neighborhood as fast as I could.

Courtney and Tanya ran to catch up with me when they heard the train pulling in. We hopped aboard; the doors shut; and the train rolled away from the station. I lowered my backpack, leaned my head against the window, and watched the tunnel lights speed by.

After we were safely home, I told Courtney not to tell anyone about our adventure. If my parents ever found out that I'd been sneaking around Cheri's building, I would really get it.

"But you don't think this will affect our summer plans, do you?"

"It could if they wanted it to." I wondered how many people in Cheri's building knew by now.

"But there's no crime committed," Courtney explained. You were only delivering a person's homework, that's all. And even if your parents did find out what could they do? They wouldn't punish you for standing in a stairway."

"Sitting," I corrected her. "I was sitting."

"Same difference," she said.

"I don't think they'd see it that way."

"Well, there's no other way to see it. If it wasn't for the homework, we wouldn't have been there at all."

I sighed, wishing I could believe her. I kicked off my loafers and slid them under my bed. Courtney and I were so happy to be home that we forgot that we were still wearing our uniforms. Usually we pulled them off before we removed our shoes.

"You do plan on going back to see Cheri, though, right?" she asked, leaning against the dresser.

I scratched my head. "I don't know," I said. "Her ankle won't be that way forever."

"Yeah, but it will tomorrow."

We plunged down the staircase. My brothers were scattered somewhere; lucky for us, they weren't in the kitchen.

"What do you want?" I asked, pulling the fridge door wide open.

"What you got?"

"The regular," I said.

"I'll pass."

I released the door, snatched a box of crackers from the cabinet, and we sat at the end of the dinette table, safely hidden from any more prying eyes.

That night, behind my desk buried in homework, I kept wondering about that security guard. Did he think we were troublemakers because I had dropped my keys down an elevator shaft one day and then hid out in the stairway the next? What if we ran into him again? Maybe he'd quit or get transferred.

I stuffed my book bag, cut the lights, leaped into bed, and wondered if criminals started out this way.

Three days had passed and nobody from security had come looking for us . . . yet. Because Cheri's mom said that she could report back to school Monday, we only had to deliver her homework one last time.

I hadn't seen Cheri's neighborhood since the Monday we were caught in the stairway. I had let Tanya deliver the work by herself. But she said that she couldn't carry her weekend work and Cheri's books at the same time. She had begged me to come with her. I had told her that with her grades, Cheri didn't have to worry about turning anything in on time and she could do it all at school Monday. But, then, Cheri wouldn't hear of that.

Tanya didn't speak to me as we got off the bus and searched the area. I walked slowly toward Cheri's block, making sure that nobody in uniform was watching. They might have thought that we were trying to sneak back into the stairway, and all I wanted to do was bring Cheri her work and get out of there.

"Tch! Come on," Tanya snapped, adjusting her backpack and continuing to take wide strides toward Cheri's building. She acted like she didn't care about what happened before, almost as if she wasn't even there.

I scanned each nearby path and around every tall bush. The sun was at an angle, dripping light through the trees, leaving patches along the ground and whoever walked under the boughs. I didn't see anybody walking in a uniform.

Still, I kept looking back, feeling eyes staring from behind me. I only saw three boys. They were trying to catch bugs by holding empty glass jars under the leaves of a thick bush they had surrounded. The grown-ups didn't pay them any mind as they passed by them. Those boys probably lived there and could go wherever they wanted. I was the trespasser. I wished I had a mirror so that I could see both front and back all at once, and then I'd know if I was being watched.

I looked up at Cheri's 10th-floor living room window and the top of the high-rise next to her building. Her neighborhood, with its red brick buildings, was a city of towers, tall and erect. With all those rows of windows lining the buildings, somebody could have been looking out at least one. Were we being watched?

I lowered my head. The ground felt shaky or maybe my knees did. I felt like I was walking into a trap. Why didn't I just leave? Cheri was my friend, but were we both needed to deliver her homework?

When we came closer to the entrance, the scent of onions, sausage, and fresh-baked garlic bread soared out a first-floor kitchen window.

My nose took in the smells and my stomach growled. Quickly, I covered my midsection with my backpack. Had anybody heard it? Then I wondered if the person living in that good-smelling, first-floor apartment knew what had happened yesterday.

I snuck behind Tanya into the lobby. It was empty, but I wondered if that guard was watching us now, through a peephole or a hidden camera. Sweat poured down my neck, soaking the front of my blouse.

Tanya pressed for the elevator and I held my breath. The doors opened, but no one was inside it. On the way up, I checked each floor out the tiny car window to make sure nobody was looking through from the other side. After we reached the 10th floor and the doors opened, I leaned out. The hallway was empty. I followed Tanya to Cheri's apartment and waited as she rang the doorbell.

Cheri answered.

"You took the bandage off?" Tanya asked her as we headed into the living room.

"Yeah," Cheri said. "I got tired of it itching my skin."

I listened to her shut the door and lock it. Then I sat down on the sofa with my back against the wall, away from the window. Finally I could breathe.

"Where's the practice sheet Sister handed out?"

Cheri asked, going through the stuff we brought.

"Folded up on the last page," Tanya told her.

Cheri pulled it out and read it. I gave her the rest of the papers and her textbook with all the important notes highlighted the way she liked them.

Cheri looked like a business-woman going through her stuff. "She didn't give out any more notes on our math?"

"Just read through chapter 13 again."

"Are you guys staying to study with me?" she asked, opening her notebook binder.

"That's okay, we'll study at home," Tanya said, heading back down the hall.

Slowly I got up.

"Well," said Tanya, "I guess we'll see you Monday. Do you want us to come by and get you?"

I flinched.

"No," Cheri said, opening the door. "Mom's driving me."

We went back to the elevators. I pressed the button and waited. I looked down both sides of the hallway, wondering if anyone was spying from the stairway the way we had done on Monday, when the elevator came down. I checked to see if a shadow of a head could be seen inside the car window. It was dark.

The doors opened. I went inside but stopped short and clutched my book bag again.

Tanya got more than her wish. Three guys were standing in the corner, dressed in outfits you only find on fashion magazine models.

Tanya's face began to shine. She swooped in first and stood right beside them, swinging her book bag.

I froze between the doors. Then I saw that one was holding the open-door button for me. I stepped in quickly and backed up against the wall.

The doors closed.

I became a statue again and stared at the floor. My head was clogged and my heart was pounding.

Brown and black leather shoes pointed out from the bottom of their neatly pressed pants. Their dark jackets partly covered their fancy trimmed shirts and ties. I ran my eyes up to the top and noticed that they were smiling at us.

I switched my eyes to the door fast.

What was so funny? They didn't know us. But maybe they knew that guard! Maybe everyone in the whole building knew that guard!

After the doors slid open and I caught sight of the exit, my feet didn't stop till they reached the train station.

Chapter 3

On Saturday morning, I sat at my desk with my books in front of me. I still had to solve 10 math problems. Courtney was right; homework was nothing but trouble. How could anybody get through this?

I wondered what her desk looked like right now, filled with books and papers. Cheri's desk was never cluttered with a lot of schoolwork, but she always managed to get A's.

Maybe if I had an extra list of math problems already done, then I could hand it in place of the assignment. It would be my emergency list in case I couldn't get the stuff Sister assigned to us finished in time. I'd write down a whole sheet of math problems and just throw answers in there and keep it handy as proof that I did something. At least I'd have answers down on paper to make it look like I had worked on math problems. One question was probably the same as the others anyway, so if I guessed on one, I could guess on them all. How long could it take?

I pulled three sheets of loose-leaf paper out of my desk and began filling them with math problems. I'd save the sheets and carry them inside my backpack in case I needed them. But first I'd make sure the entire paper was covered with straight rows of figures.

I wondered if Courtney's homework looked neat like my extra-math problem sheet. Why was it that she never showed it to anybody?

Cheri's handwriting was straight and tall on all her assignments. She wrote her numbers and letters larger than I did. Sister always complimented her on penmanship.

My writing was so small Sister sometimes had a hard time reading it. After the three sheets were done, I held them up in front of me to study the print. It wasn't too small. I filed the sheets neatly inside my backpack between my spelling book and my notebook binder. I thought the added paper made a pretty picture inside my bag.

I pulled out my history book and flipped through the pages. I could do the spelling assignment Monday while on the bus. The only thing left was my extra credit homework in American history and I didn't know how I would get that out of the way.

"Anybody want anything from the supermarket?" Pop hollered from downstairs.

I leaped from my chair and crashed into Terence and Kriston in the hallway. All five of us older kids raced down the staircase, into the kitchen, and started yelling out orders to Pop.

"Hold on, hold on!" Pop exclaimed in exasperation, waving his wallet in the air.

"I want to come," Terell cried.

"Me too," Kriston added.

"Did you finish your homework?" Pop asked.

I thought a moment. Did he mean did we 'finish starting it' or 'going over it'? I had finished starting my homework.

"Yes," the rest of them said.

"Good," Pop said.

Mom kept a weekly shopping list of the things we needed pinned to the fridge. Pop snatched the list and told us to wait for him in the carport. He gave me the keys, so I assumed that I was in charge.

"Get out," I told my brothers.

They raced out to the family van.

"I got the front!" Terell said, grabbing the door handle.

"Wait a minute," Kriston started. "You sat up front last time. It's somebody else's turn." While they argued, I peeked at the sky through the dangling, weeping willow branches and took a deep breath.

Fresh air and sunshine poured everywhere, into the trees, the bushes, and the grass. It was the perfect day for a car ride.

I butted Terell out of my way and opened the door. After Pop locked the house up and headed toward the van, he saw five sons in the front seat and one daughter in the back, just the way I liked it.

Well, he didn't like it. He sent four in the back against their will and buckled up Austin in the car seat behind him.

"All right, listen," Pop said, backing the van out of the driveway. "Behave yourselves this time. I'm not spending three hours in a supermarket searching for you people and reimbursing the store for damages. It won't hurt to act civilized for once, please."

Kriston sat up. "That was an accident," he explained. "I didn't mean to knock over all those cartons on purpose. I couldn't see them."

"That's why you should try walking forward from now on, son," Pop said.

We rode down the street. I looked east, at all the roads that led to the beach. I opened the window and sniffed the air to see if any scent was blowing in from the ocean. I couldn't tell. I guessed the beach was too far away to smell from Alexandria.

"You plan on buying me something?" Tyrone asked Terell.

I glanced down at the coins cupped inside his hands.

Terell shook his head no and shoved the money into his side pocket. He leaned his head back on the seat and curled his lips into a tight grin.

As always, when we reached the supermarket, my brothers dashed for the entrance, and each one grabbed a shopping cart.

"Wait a minute," Pop bellowed, handing me Austin.

"We only need one shopping cart."

"Well," Kriston started, "we thought we could divide the list up and go down separate aisles to get it done faster."

Pop hesitated, then he tore out sections of the list and handed one to each son. Smiling, they rolled their carts in four directions.

Twisting through winding aisles, Austin and I waited as Pop stocked up on fruits and vegetables. At the end of canned goods, I spotted a large cardboard photo of people sitting on a beach drinking soft drinks. In the picture, an ice chest stacked with ice cubes and bottles was placed under the beach umbrella. The people in the picture wore brightly colored bathing suits that looked dry.

I stood close to the picture to see if I could fit into the scene. If I had a shell, I could hear the waves and pretend that I was at the beach too. Maybe a spray of water would pour over the aisle to warn us of the next big wave coming, and then I could be part of the adventure.

Nothing happened.

It didn't matter; I would be at the beach soon enough anyway. I looked up at the ceiling and smiled at the big blue sky that I knew was just above it.

"Justine," Pop called, rolling the cart to another section.

I hurried back to him. In the household aisle, Pop picked a can of bug repellant off the shelf and placed it in the cart. His selection meant that more bugs would be coming out from their winter nests, and we would need something to keep them off our skin. Bumblebees, wasps, gnats, mosquitoes, and the occasional dragonfly, were other signs of summer.

Swinging Austin's hand, I followed Pop down a ramp leading into the refrigerated section of the supermarket. If there were tracks on this ramp, it could have been the start of a roller coaster ride. I looked up at the blue and white crepe paper arched across the aisle. This could have been where the roller coaster gets pulled up the tracks for the first big dip. I glanced back at the top of the ramp, where I had seen the cardboard picture of the beach, and imagined the dip just over the rim.

We turned down another aisle and I saw assorted colored coolers on display beside the wall. One was the color of my favorite icee, blueberry. We headed toward the frozen food section, where ice cold drinks and snacks were spread out like prizes of cool fresh treats against the summer heat.

Pop stocked up on frozen vegetables and paid no attention to the coolers as we headed back up the ramp.

Later, as we approached the cashier, my brothers stumbled ahead with their carts overflowing with popcorn, chips, peanuts, cookies, ice cream candy bars, five kinds of soda, an ice chest, and a folded kiddie beach chair.

They must have thought that Pop was blind. "All right," he said after he walked past each cart and pulled out exactly what was on the list, "put all that back."

Eight eyes bulged and four lower lips dropped.

"You didn't hear me the first time?"

Slowly, four carts were wheeled back to the aisles.

Sadly, I watched the beach chair and ice chest being carried away.

After waiting in front of the supermarket for 20 minutes, riding home, storing the groceries, and getting kicked out of the kitchen, it was Saturday afternoon clean up time.

My brothers got out the rags to dust off the furniture. I hauled the vacuum cleaner out from the hall closet, plugged it into an outlet, and began vacuuming the living room carpet.

Eying the bottom of the stairs, which led back upstairs to my desk, I pulled the vacuum to the other side of the hall and began cleaning up the rug. It was fun feeding the vacuum cleaner and watching the dust and dirt get swallowed up the tube. I wormed the hose around the potted plants by the window and beside the stairs, which were still leading up to my desk.

I suddenly felt insecure for some reason. It didn't seem like I was where I was supposed to be at the moment. Bad thoughts were sinking into my head and I had nothing to push them out. What did I need to clear my head and how would I find it? I didn't know.

Then I realized I had vacuumed the same spot under the spider plant 10 times. I was still squatting beside the snake plant, when through the leaves I saw my brothers huddled together in the middle of the living room. I switched the vacuum off.

"But I need one more quarter for show and tell," Terell said.

"You're taking money to show off at school?" Terence asked.

"No, it's to get something."

"You don't buy things for show and tell," Tyrone explained to him. "You take something you already have."

"I'm not buying something," he said. "I'm paying to get something done."

They looked at each other.

"Who're you paying?" Tyrone asked.

"It's a secret," Terell said. "He told me not to tell in case everybody else might try to bring the same thing."

Terence leaned toward him. "It's somebody from school?"

"I told you: I can't tell you."

Kriston raised his arm. "All that junk in your room," he said, "why can't you just pick something out?"

"I didn't see anything worth picking," he said. "And I want it to be good." I watched him put his rag and spray can away with the same confident look I had always seen in Courtney. As small as he was, Terell was sticking to his decision to do things the way he wanted. He wasn't about to let anyone tell him otherwise.

Terence turned to Tyrone. "You got change for a buck?" he asked, digging into his pants pocket.

"Ask Pop," Kriston suggested.

"Nah, he's still in the kitchen," Terence said.

I switched the vacuum back on.

"Hey Justine, give me change for a dollar," Terence hollered.

Stopping in mid-swing of the vacuum, I demanded to see the dollar.

"Let me see the change," he replied as he pulled out his dollar bill.

Moving the vacuum hose and forgetting it was on, I accidentally sucked Terence's dollar up the hose and into the sac.

He looked at me. I looked at him.

"You took my buck?" he asked in amazement, blinking his eyes. "You took my buck!"

I looked at him. He looked at me.

I dodged under Mom's spider plant as he lunged at me. I swung around her tall snake plant and bolted up the staircase. "Dad!" I screamed. "DAAAAAAAAD!"

I burst into every bedroom, around and over the beds, and back out to the hall until I remembered that he was still in the kitchen. I swooped under Terence's arms as he tried to pounce on me and raced back down the stairs, crashing into Pop on his way up.

Holding me in one hand and Terence in the other, he demanded, "What is the problem? Didn't I tell you about running in this house?"

"She vacuumed my buck!" Terence howled.

Pop looked at me. "You put his money in the vacuum cleaner?"

Shrugging, I told him, "It was an accident."

"Well then you 'accidentally' get it out."

Reassuring his grip on Terence, I slowly crossed over to the vacuum cleaner, unfastened the bag, fished for the dollar, shook the dust off, and handed it to Terence.

Mission accomplished, Pop headed back to the kitchen.

Terence smoothed out his bill. "Now," he calmly stated, "let me see the change."

I put the vacuum cleaner away and headed up to my bedroom. I gave him four quarters.

"Terell!" he yelled, rocketing down the stairs. I folded the dollar and slipped it into my backpack's side pocket.

I decided to stay upstairs and try some more homework. I sat at my desk and thought about flipping open a textbook and stared at 10 incomplete sentences I had to fill in with action, linking, and helping verbs.

This could take forever, I thought, rubbing my head. I clutched my pen. A light breeze raised my curtain and I peered through the window at Courtney's bedroom.

She wasn't there. Maybe she was down in the kitchen helping her Mom. They were having tortillas for supper.

I felt a rumble in my stomach and glanced out my bedroom door at the staircase post and wondered what was going on down in our kitchen.

Maybe I couldn't work because I was hungry. I needed food.

I dropped my pen and traipsed back down to the kitchen.

Pop was dressing up a chicken. "Will Mom be home for supper?" I asked, taking a whiff.

"You mean to tell me somebody in this house finally realized their mom was missing?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at me. "She's over at Grandma's taking it easy." Pop could only be referring to his mother because her mother had passed away years ago.

"Is she that sick of us?" I grinned.

"Grandma wants her to stay off her feet," he explained, placing the last spoonful of stuffing inside the chicken.

I felt cool air swirling down from the ceiling fan.

"She never was too comfortable with these up-to-date procedures on pregnancy." He covered the chicken and placed it in the oven. "She wants Mom in the house resting her bones. Grandma always said holding a baby for nine months puts a lot of wear and tear on a body."

And yet she went and had another one, I thought to myself. I crunched on a chopped cucumber, thinking about Pop's younger look-alike brother Uncle Darrick.

I folded my arms across the cabinet and watched Pop rinse his hands under the faucet, the cool water splashing down on his brown skin. His boyish face and gentle sad eyes carried a worried look in them. Did he miss Mom?

"Okay," Tyrone said, barging in. "What do I do?" He headed toward the oven and reached for the door handle.

Pop gripped both of his arms and led him straight toward the dinette. "You place the mats," he instructed Tyrone. The last time Pop let Tyrone loose in the kitchen was the last time he'd let him loose in the kitchen.

"Let me try," Terell begged, a newcomer. He pushed a stool in front of the sink, climbed up, and flipped the faucet handle. He ripped off a strip of celery from the stalk, put some dishwashing liquid on it, and with rapid arm swings rubbed it under cold flowing water. Then he tossed it into the colander and ripped off another one.

I leaned toward the dinette. "Uh Pop," I whispered, urging him back into the kitchen.

He handed Tyrone the napkins and froze in his tracks once he saw Terell.

Finished with his wash, Terell climbed down the stool, balanced the full colander on his head, and then shoved the whole thing into the oven. Brushing his hands with satisfaction, he strutted out of the kitchen.

Pop rushed to retrieve the colander from the oven. "Go watch him," he commanded Tyrone and me.

Thinking about those quarters and his mystery purchase, I wondered if Terell ever really knew what he was doing.

"Whatever happened to Mom?" Kriston asked, as we wandered into the living room.

"She's at Grandma's," I told him.

Just as our rear ends hit the couch, the doorbell rang, sending the huskies into a full-blown bark.

"I giddit!" Austin hollered, running. He reached up for the doorknob and pulled the door wide open.

"Hey Austin," Janot said as she and her little brother Trevor walked in.

Only once in a while would Janot and Trevor come to my house. Soft-spoken and patient, something about her put my brothers to the test. A person couldn't always be quiet. They must speak out, express themselves. And my brothers didn't let up until they helped a mild-mannered person reach that goal.

I wondered why the boys were so quiet. Tyrone and Kriston were lounging on one end of the couch and Terence and Terell were spread out on the floor. All of their eyes were on Janot.

"Come on." I pulled her up to my room, leaving Trevor playing with Austin.

"Cheri still home?" Janot asked, sitting on the edge of my bed. Her sparkling brown eyes were just like Trevor's, except she carried a frightened look.

"Yeah," I said, pushing the power button on my stereo. "But Monday morning it's all over."

"Mmm," she said, looking down at the floor. "So how long does your mom plan on staying pregnant?"

"I don't know. She's over at Grandma's now. I can't believe it's been 10 months. They must have miscounted."

Watching Janot's lips tighten up, I didn't really think she was interested in Mom's pregnancy, but I didn't know if I should ask what was wrong.

"My friend Deborah got grounded last week," she said, hugging one knee.

"For what?"

"For getting an F and two D's in school."

I flinched at my unread textbooks. Sunshine encircled the whole stack as if the powers above were encouraging me to pick up the books and study. "Were her parents mad?"

"Huh, yeah," she said, twirling her dark ponytail. "Now she's stuck in her room every day after school and all weekend. And forget about summer vacation. No phone calls, no visits, no TV, no trips."

I thought about the summer list that Courtney had made for us and started fantasizing about my grades again. How did everybody else in class catch on so fast? Had they found a secret brain department and I was the only one left still looking for it?

I shook that thought out of my head. "You're acting like school's just started," I told her. "Stop, it's almost summer. We don't have anything to worry about now." I hugged my throw pillow. "I can't figure out all my work either. But that doesn't mean we automatically flunk."

"My dad says that some people over-study."

Over-study? I glimpsed at my closet where most of my books were still buried.

"Do you have those parent-teacher meetings in your school?" she asked, leaning against my bedpost.

"Reign of terror? Yeah." I got up.

"Guess what I found out," she challenged, leaning toward me. "Our teachers make photocopies of our schoolwork before they hand it back."

What? Was I hearing right? "Who told you this?"

"Remember, Deborah gets stuck in detention a lot. She saw a set of copies of our test papers on the teacher's desk after they had been handed back to us two days earlier."

"Why would they do something like that?" I asked.

"As proof, I guess."

The nuns! Did they know about this?

"If they keep a copy of everybody's stuff," she said, clutching her necklace, "then what's the point in hiding it? Our parents will eventually find out. Then what are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know," I told her sincerely, rubbing my head. "Now you got me worried."

"Sorry."

"I can see why Clarence was dead set on doing that chemistry project a while back." I brooded over Tyrone's friend. "You know he really did want to mess up the school."

His teacher had him suspended from class with 10 different assignments, each one to be signed by his father, along with a daily clean-up job, under their supervision, inside the church.

"All right, what's it going to be? The TV set or the stereo?" Tyrone asked as he and Kriston slithered in the room.

"What're you talking about?"

"What're you sacrificing to stay out of trouble?" he asked.

"What trouble?"

"The trouble you get for snooping around where you've got no business."

I crinkled my forehead, confused.

"And don't go saying it was all Tanya's fault because nobody made you go into any stairway with her," he said.

"Who told you that?" I exploded, jumping off the bed.

"Never mind that," he said. "What're you paying to shut me up?" He tossed my furry dolphin in the air.

"You little snot-nosed bugger!" I sneered at him.

"Excuse me," he said and back-stepped out the room. "Pop!"

"Wait a minute!" I pleaded.

"Well come on now, I ain't got all day." He came back inside and flopped down on my bed.

How could he do this to me? I was his sister. And how the heck did he find out? Nobody else was in the stairway, except for that guard. Somebody must have been peeking through a window or a peephole somewhere, somebody that he knew.

Even though I got to the doorway entrance, I knew Tyrone had me cornered. I didn't know how he always knew my business, but he did. Why couldn't somebody ever catch him at something?

I sighed. My precious TV set with all my cartoons and favorite reruns. But my stereo. It was the only thing I had to help me through hard times. One press of the power button and all my troubles faded away.

"Look," I started, "I'll do anything you say. Clean your room, do your homework, anything! Just don't tell Pop."

"You don't even do your own homework," he said as his gaze rose to a point above my head and Janot backed up against the bedpost. Kriston had already ducked behind my dresser.

I clutched my throat, about-faced, and saw who I knew would be standing in the middle of the doorway, causing everybody else to disappear.

"Downstairs," Pop ordered. "Now!" He stepped aside as we inched out into the hall and ran down the staircase.

I doubted that Janot would be coming back anytime in the near future.

Chapter 4

"You just can't leave me alone, can you?" I challenged Tyrone Monday morning as we waited in front of the house for Terell. "Why do you keep bothering me?"

"I, I, I don't know!" he exclaimed. "I just get these serious urges and, and, and I just can't hold back!"

Smack! I just couldn't hold back. My fist went flying. His body went down. I had finally found a way to get even.

"Dad!" Kriston howled. "Justine punched Tyrone!"

Terence and Austin sat rigid with their mouths hanging open, Tyrone, down on his stomach, lay motionless. He turned his head around to look at me.

"Dad!"

Pop barged out with Terell and saw Tyrone flat on the lawn. He lifted Tyrone off the grass, tested his nose and mouth to make sure there was still air coming out, set him down next to Terence, grabbed my arm, led me in the house, and straightened me out in a way I would never forget.

After a long day at school, with my ears still ringing from Pop's hard lecture, I sat across from Tanya and Courtney on our way home. But this time instead of sitting in the back like always, we were up front near the bus driver.

"Come on, here's our stop," Courtney announced, pressing the bell.

"Wait!" Tanya whispered. "We can ride a little longer."

"We're supposed to go straight home after school unless we ask for permission to go someplace else," Courtney clarified.

Tanya's bottom lip jutted out, pleading me not to leave.

I clutched my backpack and stormed toward the back door. Tanya caught my arm and gave me a look of desperation. I gave her a look of hate.

"Tch, ooh, I guess we can ride a little longer, Justine," Courtney said, "as long as we don't get lost."

Tanya waited.

Steamed, I slithered back to my seat and tried to guess what punishment I would get for doing this. I couldn't understand why I gave in to Tanya so much. I didn't want any more secrets with her. Maybe I should have just gotten up and run like I did from Cheri's building.

With a grin of satisfaction, Tanya dropped down beside me. "Look at him!" she whispered, "You ever seen anything so fine in your life?"

Courtney clicked her teeth again. I peered through the window to see the next stop. Tanya was sitting too close for me to make a break for the door.

"Look how he turns the wheel," she continued. "So smooth. We didn't even hit a bump yet and oh!" she squeezed my arm. "Look at his eyes! Hazel eyes!"

I twisted my arm out of her grip as the bus pulled up to a stop. "Justine?" a voice beckoned. I looked up. Janot's mother, Mrs. Forrest, had boarded. She had the same cute stubby nose and sparkling brown eyes as Trevor, only hers were more feminine. "Shouldn't you be on your way home?" she asked, dropping her fare in the slot.

"Yes, Ma'am."

She shook her head. "Honestly, you kids," she said and walked to the back of the bus.

I shot my eyes at Tanya. "Are you happy now?" I asked as I wondered who else on this bus might have known me. "You got me in more trouble." How long would it take for Tyrone to find this out? "Why do you keep doing this to me, Tanya?" I shook my head in defeat. "I'm supposed to go home, sit at my desk, and look like I'm studying. But all you see is some guy you don't even know, and now you've got me on some bus because you're in love with the bus driver?" I glared at her and continued, "I got blasted at today because of you! Did you know that?"

She wasn't even looking at me; her eyes were still glued to the bus driver. Only she wasn't smiling.

I turned around.

My cheeks burned and my jaw dropped. The driver had heard everything.

I cringed and watched Tanya's face shake from anger and her eyes water. Gripping my book bag tightly, I back-stepped to the front of the bus.

At least the driver was nice enough to open the door again.

I grabbed the handle and stepped down until my heel touched the sidewalk. Then I spun around and broke into a run.

"Come back here!" Tanya screamed. "Come back here so I can kill you! I'll kill you! How could you do that? I thought you were my friend!"

I winced but I didn't stop.

Houses and kids became a blur as I reached my yard in time to catch Pop helping Mom out of the car. "Dad!" I screamed, slamming into his hip and holding on tight. "Tanya's after me!"

She burst into our front yard. I braced behind Pop.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he said, grabbing her by the shoulders. "What is the problem?"

"Your daughter has a big mouth!" Tanya blurted. She swung her fist at me. I ducked.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Pop said as he grabbed her by the arms. "Now calm down," he told Tanya. "Justine, go in the house," he ordered, and I obeyed.

"What is all this?" Mom asked, following me into the kitchen.

I explained everything.

"Justine, you can't let your thoughts just run out like that. You have to learn to think before you speak."

Me?

"Would you like it if Tanya said that about you?" Mom asked.

"Look at the mess she already got me in."

"She can't make you do something that you don't already want to do," she said. "You are the only one in control of that." She turned around and left.

I gasped. How was everything my fault? I didn't want to stay on that dumb bus; I wanted to go home. And I didn't want to hide out in the stairway either, but she had begged me.

Tanya was nothing but trouble. Why did I stay friends with her?

The front door slammed and I jumped.

"I'm hungry!" Kriston shouted. The boys busted into the kitchen, threw their backpacks down, and attacked the fridge.

Tyrone wore a patch under his left eye.

Imagining what his sore must have felt like to him, I felt a sting on the left side of my face when I watched him walk in. I was mad but I shouldn't have hit him like that. I walked up to him.

"Sorry."

He gave me a bear hug. "I know you can't help yourself," he said, patting me on the back. "This disease you and Tanya got . . . pity."

I pulled away and looked at him.

"Fighting over a man," Terence said, shaking his head in shame as he poured milk into his glass.

Suddenly Tanya marched into the kitchen. I hid behind Tyrone and he spread his arms out so that she couldn't get me.

"Justine," she said. "I'm sorry I wanted to hit you, but I was upset. Your father explained to me how you sometimes say things without thinking, so I understand why you said that."

But she did things without thinking, didn't she?

I waited to see what she would do next.

"Are we still friends?" she asked.

I leaned my chin on Tyrone's shoulder. "Yeah," I told her. "I guess so." But I wasn't too sure.

She smiled and everybody sat at the kitchen table to put an end to one giant bag of buttered popcorn.

***

It was lunchtime. We were in the cafeteria. The food stunk.

"Let's get ready," Courtney suggested, hopping up from the table.

Study period was next and we wanted seats by the window. When we walked past the trash bins and discarded our leftovers, the bell rang. We raced upstairs to the library and picked a table near the corner window. The room had once held classes before it was turned into a library. Bookshelves lined the entire room even underneath the windowsill.

Birds chirped in the nearby trees. The afternoon sun shone brightly, leaving yellow patches along the windowsill. A ladybug landed on the edge of the window, and the shadow of a butterfly crossed Courtney's back.

I pulled out my assignment pad and placed my book bag on the floor. I flipped the cover. Math, do pages 27 through 29. Science, know section two of chapter five. Social studies, read about the functions of our government. English—I didn't even want to look at my English notes. One assignment covered a page and a half in my pad. After what Janot told me, I could see why she was upset about teachers photocopying tests. There must be some way out of this.

I rubbed my forehead. How did they expect us to do all this at once? I couldn't even remember everything we went over in class. Religion exercise, label on your map the countries that Saint Paul traveled. Reading, five paragraphs on pages 16, 17, and 18.

Sweat poured, my head throbbed, and I could feel my heartbeat race. I moaned.

Everybody stared at me.

I slumped farther down in my chair.

"Who's ready to start their paper?" Cheri asked as she opened her notebook.

"I don't even know what to write about," Tanya said.

She wasn't the only one, I thought, closing my assignment pad.

"We don't have to do it in a specific way?" she asked. "Just write down whatever we want?"

"You were there when Sister gave out the assignment," Cheri said. "Didn't you take notes?"

"I took notes," I said, sliding my assignment pad over to Tanya.

She lifted the cover, opened her notebook, and gripped her favorite purple ballpoint, the one that she was not allowed to use in class. "Where is it?" she asked me.

"Under English."

She lifted the next page and studied the print. "Exactly what on here is the assignment?" she asked with one hand extended.

"Everything you see under English," I explained.

Her eyebrows arched. "All this?"

Courtney leaned over. "It's simple. She just uses a lot of words to make it look hard. All we have to do is find something that's important and write a composition about why it's important."

"What did you find?" Cheri asked her.

"We're not supposed to discuss our homework before we turn it in," Courtney stated, busily straightening her loose-leaf paper.

Quietly, Cheri went back to her own work, her finger sliding across the textbook page, stopping only to gather information into her notebook.

Maybe I could do my paper on Cheri and how devoted she was to her schoolwork. The time and effort she put into those boring lessons which were now packed away inside her brain much like my schoolbooks and old notes were packed away inside my bedroom closet.

How could she remember all of that stuff? Maybe she just had a lot of practice at studying. But if I pointed that out about Cheri, Sister would expect the same from me.

I rested my chin in my hand and watched the shadow of Cheri's head darken her paper. What made Cheri smart? Was it her background? Maybe I could write about her family. Her parents were from South America, and even though she'd never been there, Cheri knew a lot about the continent.

I could write the paper on Puerto Rico where Courtney and Adrian were born. I could talk about living on a tropical island. But would Sister consider that important?

Then I noticed Tanya still copying down the assignment. Her grandparents were from the West Indies where her parents were now living.

I always pictured her grandmother, Mrs. Gordon, living on a warm tropical beach where cool waters splashed down the side of the mountains into the black volcanic sand. She didn't have to wait for summer to go to the beach; she was already there.

I thought of her grandmother eating ice cream and cool fresh tropical fruits while dipping her feet into gentle waves from the ocean. She would be enjoying the same ocean at St. Vincent Island's coast as I would soon be dipping my feet into.

Tanya shook the kinks out of her writing hand and continued copying the notes.

When Tanya was out of uniform, the bright colors she often wore reflected more on her grandmother's beauty as a seamstress than on Tanya's appearance in them. But Tanya did have a pretty smile. Her soft round face complimented her short curly hair. However, when her mouth got started there was absolutely nothing anybody could do to make it stop.

"Hey Justine," she called, bobbing her head up. "Why don't you do life with Tyrone? Have the whole class going into hysterics."

I sighed. "Hey wait a minute," I said, sitting up. "I can do mine on families. You know, why relatives are important?"

Everyone was quiet.

"Justine," Courtney said, "the way I heard it, when Terence first came into your life all you wanted was to send him back."

"I don't mean me; I mean parents: Why they think their kids are important."

"My parents don't think kids are important," Tanya said. "They think we're expensive."

"How would a nun know how a parent feels about their kids anyway?" Courtney asked.

A light began to shine. "Exactly," I said. "So how could she flunk me?"

"Oh no!" Tanya cried, wiggling my homework pad. "Do you see this?"

"No I can't see it, Tanya," I said, reaching for it.

"It says we got a math test today."

I snatched my hand back. "Say what?"

"You wrote it down right here," Tanya said, pointing at the top of the pad.

"Don't you remember she told us two weeks ago it would be today?" Cheri said.

"How am I supposed to remember something from two weeks ago?" I blurted, glancing at her history book. "And why aren't you studying?"

"Already did last week," she told me. "It's not good to study too close to the day of the exam. Scrambles your brain."

I groaned. "What class is next?"

Everybody looked at each other.

"Math," Courtney said.

I yanked my book bag apart and dug for the math book. I slammed it on the table and ripped the pages open.

The bell rang.

I looked up at the clock. "No, no, it can't be!" I cried.

"Come on," Courtney said. "Let's get it over with."

She slung her book bag over her shoulder and headed out the door with Tanya trailing behind.

"Hey wait a minute," I said, struggling to catch up. "You still have my assignment pad!" As if it would make any difference now.

Chapter 5

Another surprise was in store for us after our math test. Instead of final periods, we were all going to church. The entire grade school formed two lines in the hallway and our principal stood before it.

Our class was the last in line, so we were positioned in front, close to her, a position that I hated.

My head still pounded from all those math questions that I couldn't answer. During the exam I thought the ceiling would explode from all that hot, tense air in one room.

The principal moved in closer, making my skin crawl even more. Sister Catherina had been principal for a year and not one month had passed in which I hadn't been sent to her office because of my grades.

The tallest nun I had ever known, Sister Catherina's black habit flowed as far down as her waist—at least I think that was her waist. Long thin fingers poked out from their dark sleeves. Her soul-searching pale green eyes as if they were only staring at me. Her robe swayed each time she moved as if she were floating on air or on one of heaven's clouds.

I watched Sister Catherina float to the front of the line and prop the stairway doors open, the dark habit spiraling down her back. What color was her hair? Did she have hair? Was it all cottony white and curled around—

"I want two straight lines and complete silence as we enter the side vestibule," she announced, turning to face the stairs.

A classmate searched the area as we were led down. "Are we going to have to go to confession too?" he whispered.

"I don't know," I said. "Is today some saint's birthday?"

Another classmate, Jerice, shook her head no.

"See? I knew they'd do this," Tanya cut in as the lines slowed down by the doors to the auditorium. "Wait till after we take the math test to send us off to pray! What's the point now, the damage is done!" Her round face hardened.

We crossed the auditorium and entered the dark narrow hall that led to a side vestibule.

"This isn't a holiday," Tanya whispered. "You know of any saints we celebrate in May?"

"Well there's Saint Philip, Saint James Minor, Saint Athanasius," Jerice rolled on, "Saint Hilary, Saint John, Saint Benedict, the Rogation Days, Holy Thursday—"

"Are you going to be a nun when you grow up?" I asked her.

"No!" she blurted, frightened by the thought.

Silently, except for our shoes striking the waxed floor, we entered the church. Dim lights and candles guided us up the main aisle, where we passed small groups of people, briefly knelt, and stepped into the front pews.

The organ was played, signaling us to stand as Father Farrin marched to the altar and began the service.

I still wondered why we were in there. School would be over soon and there were no more holidays until next year. Soon my eyes wandered.

This church could have been plucked right out of a history book on the Middle Ages. Crowds of tiny flames flickered in every corner making shadows of saints dance along the stone walls. Above the aisles a small row of windows uncovered a hidden pathway that disappeared behind the tabernacle. Stained-glass windows brightly reflected scenes from the Bible. Shapes burst from walls, the tops of columns, and ceilings as if they were suddenly frozen in time.

Thinking of all the fairy tales I had read, I waited for a princess in a long white gown to appear in one of the narrow pathways, searching the castle for her maid to help dress her for the ball tonight—

Tanya yanked my jumper.

Everybody had already sat down, and I was the only one left standing. I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise as I lowered myself into the pew.

I glimpsed around at the other students, who were fidgeting, and whispering, and attracting stern looks from the teachers. At least it didn't feel hot and sticky like it did in the classroom.

The church was air-conditioned, and the stone walls kept the cool air in and the hot springtime air outside. I watched sunlight sparkle against the stained-glass windows.

If any of the air conditioners were attached to a window, they were probably dripping water onto the sidewalks, where in minutes the droplets would evaporate on the hot asphalt. I leaned my head against the pew.

Summer was getting closer and closer. Adventure was waiting right outside those cool stone walls.

I glimpsed over at Jerice as we recited the Apostles' Creed. Every year in June she was the first in our class to get a sunburn. I always wanted to ask her: Was the sand hot yet? Was the water cold? Were the waves high? I wondered which beach her family would go to first.

I smiled as we sat down and Father Farrin began his sermon. Gazing directly at the grade school, he thundered, "Education! The desire to learn." He clenched one fist. "To have the opportunity that so many children in deprived countries can only dream of . . . ."

Stunned, we looked at each other. Sister Catherina sat like a rock. The few adults in the church eyed us in admiration.

I grabbed the missal and thumbed through. Where was this talk of education in the Bible?

"And here I stand, seeing before me," Father raised his arms out to us, "such an accomplished bright group of students, and teachers who I know are as pleased and excited to celebrate with you as we come to the end of another school year.

"As you and your friends depart to discover and face new challenges," he raised his forefinger, "carrying the memories you've created within those classroom walls, and leaving behind the uncertainty that only ignorance breeds, I want you to remember every little accomplishment you have made in your life when times get hard and you feel like giving up."

He hesitated. "Those small accomplishments are as important as the big ones, sometimes even more. All that you can ask of yourself is that you do your best." He looked around at everyone in a sweeping glance.

"Now, do you feel ready for the next challenge?" he asked.

I settled down in my seat.

"You should! All that hard work and perseverance, you should feel very confident. Your performance, at this early age, is one of the first stages in determining how well you will decide to perform throughout your entire lives."

He pointed at us. "Opening your minds to knowledge is not only the best way to divert boredom, but it is also a way of preparing yourself for what may come in the future. These lessons are now your own tools to keep and draw upon. Understand that what it gave you, no one can take away. It will open many doors for you in this world that we share."

Tanya looked at me and sighed. What did we do to deserve this?

I bowed my head, wondering if my sins were floating up to heaven right now. They must have been and God responded by sending down this sermon.

I raised my head again. Everybody was restless. One kid banged the back of his shoes against the seat in front of him, until a teacher rested her hand on his shoulder to make him stop. Another kept twisting a braid around her wrist, tightly. Sister Catherina remained still, leaning her head to one side and watching Father Farrin.

He looked so tiny in front of the church. He was the only living thing, from this world anyway, moving up there.

"Therefore, always remember, my children, this gift of knowledge must not be taken for granted. Respect it, earn it, use it. Now, I want you to promise me you'll go out there and have a great summer vacation. You've earned it. In the Name of the Father . . ."

Relief flooded the entire student body.

"Brother, I thought it'd never end," Tanya grumbled.

"This is the first two hour service I've ever been to," Jerice exaggerated, rubbing her backside.

I shook my legs to bring back some circulation. I couldn't wait for Communion to come so I could get up and move around a little.

As Father Farrin stepped forward with the Host, the majority of the students remained seated. I didn't know who they thought they were fooling because we all had our first communion in first grade.

Stepping over feet, I followed Tanya to the aisle. Jerice was the only one behind me.

Sister Catherina strolled to the front of the aisle, crossed her arms, and let her power shine down on the rest of the grade school. In a flash everybody crammed up in line. Teachers had to straighten out the mob of students. After receiving communion every pew was empty. I trailed Tanya down about 10 rows and stopped. She kept walking to the back of the church.

Jerice bumped me from behind. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I can't find my seat."

"Just go on."

I felt my heart racing again. "I can't remember where we were sitting!" I stared at the endless line of empty pews.

The class started coming back and filling up seats.

"No, un unh! Get up!"

"That's not your seat!"

"It is so!"

"Move!"

"I was sitting there!"

"You're not now!"

"Wheeeerrrree's my seat!" I cried, getting shoved.

"She hit me! Automatic detention!"

Before I knew anything else, I was crushed against Sister Catherina's dark robe. Eyes bulged, teeth clenched, she bellowed, "SIT DOWN!"

Everybody scrambled into a pew. I sauntered back, rubbing my nose. The few adult worshipers in the church flashed cold stares as they returned to their seats. The teachers remained standing in the aisles to keep order.

Father frowned waiting for silence. Then he stood up. "The mass has ended, all go in peace to love and serve the Lord."

"Thanks be to God," the congregation responded.

Quietly and quickly we departed.

Jerice leaned over my shoulder. "She's really upset now," she whispered, nodding her head toward Sister Catherina. "I never knew a nun's skin could turn so many different colors."

After we were dismissed for the day, I was glad to finally be riding home on the bus. I sat next to an open window, closed my eyes, and let the fresh air run up my nostrils and break the sweat from my forehead.

"Wake up!" Tanya prodded, tapping the back of my neck.

"What do you want?" I watched her reflection through the glass.

"I want to know what you wrote on your math test." She peeled open a packet full of sunflower seeds.

"Don't talk to me about that thing," I muttered.

"Well how do you think you did?" she asked.

"I don't know." I closed my eyes again.

"You might not have done as bad as all that," she said.

I swung around. "You have to have answers written down in order for it to count, don't you?"

"Well all you have to do is guess," she said, popping sunflower seeds into her mouth and spitting out the empty shells at the same time. "Look at the numbers on your question and find the group of numbers that blend in the most with that question. If it's a bunch of even numbers then the answer will be even. If there are more odd numbers then the answer will be odd."

I gawked at her. "How're you going to do that with the metric system?"

"The same way you would with any other system," she argued. "There're numbers in the metric system, aren't there?"

Shaking my head, I leaned back against the window. "It's the mouth," I muttered. "It's always that mouth."

"What did you say?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"Is that what you wrote on your test?" Courtney asked her. "That doesn't work. You can't guess an answer when it comes to measurements. Either you know it or you don't."

"When did I say I didn't know it?" Tanya asked.

"You just said it now," Courtney argued. "You said you guessed the answers."

"That doesn't mean I didn't know it."

Courtney clicked her teeth and wrapped her arms around her backpack.

Tanya and I looked at her. With her lips shut tight, Courtney kept staring at the front of the bus.

"What's wrong with you?" Tanya asked her.

Courtney brushed that question off with a wave of her hand.

I sat quietly, wondering why the air around us still felt strange like it did in the church.

***

Late that night a funny dream rattled me. Something was squirming down the back of my shoulder and a flashback of Sister Agatha's talk on a vocation for those interested in becoming a priest or a nun suddenly popped into my head.

I shut my eyes tight. Oh, Gosh! Was this my calling from God?

I rolled over and bumped into a head. I opened my eyes and found Austin leaning his chin against the edge of my pillow. "What's the matter?" I asked him.

"You all lef' me," he said.

"We what?"

"You, you all lef' me 'ere," he said.

I sat up and looked around. "Where'd we go?" I asked him.

He shrugged. "You wouldn't talk an' you lef' me 'ere."

I blinked twice trying to figure him out. "Austin, we're just sleeping," I explained. "We didn't go anywhere."

He raised his tiny chin, snuggled between his droopy cheeks.

"We didn't leave you. We're still right here in our beds." I patted the mattress. "Just because we're asleep and don't talk to you, that doesn't mean we actually left you. We're just not paying you any attention because we're asleep. You get it?"

He curved his eyebrows and looked at me like I was crazy.

I climbed out of bed, cupped his hand in mine, and guided him to our parents' room. I heard snoring so I pushed the door in and found them lying back to back. I tiptoed over to the bed.

Pop was sleeping hard. His eyes were screwed tight and his mouth barely opened. I crept around to the other side. Poor Mom. From the foot of the bed, her belly looked so big I could hardly see her face.

"You see what I mean?" I asked Austin. "They're both right here in bed."

He cocked his head and reached for the sheets.

"No, don't wake them!" I whispered. I walked him back out to the hall, closed the door, and steered him toward Terence and Tyrone's room. I opened the door. Terence was balled up on one bed, and Tyrone was out flat on the other. I trampled over piles of clothes and toys. "Tyrone," I called just loud enough for him to hear.

He jerked and fell out of the bed, covers and everything.

"Hey, Tyrone," I said, squatting beside the bed. "Austin thinks everybody leaves him when they go to sleep." I stared at the lump. "Tyrone? Tyrone, you in there?"

He sprang up and pulled the covers off. I paid no attention to that dazed look in his eyes.

"Why are you bringing this to me now?" he asked, scratching his head.

"Because it was brought to me now," I explained. "He can't sleep."

Tyrone squinted at Austin. "Come here."

Austin dropped onto Tyrone's lap.

"Why can't you sleep?" Tyrone asked, yawning.

"Don't want to," he said, rocking on his knees.

"What'd you do after Pop put you to bed?"

"Sat dere."

"You didn't want to lie down?" Tyrone asked.

Austin shook his head no.

"Why?"

"Ev', ev'body's gone," he answered with tears forming.

Tyrone wrapped his arm around Austin and carried him to the other bed. "See this?" he asked, pointing at Terence. "If I need him, all I have to do is wake him up and he'll be right here."

Austin twitched his nose. "You sssure?"

With that, Tyrone gave Terence a quick thrust.

Terence was up. "Whatsamatter?" he mumbled.

"You see?" Tyrone asked Austin. "See how fast that was? Bam! And here he is right where I need him."

Terence stared at us almost as if he didn't know who we were. Maybe at this time of night, he didn't.

"Come on," Tyrone told Austin. "I'll put you back in bed and you test us the next couple of nights. Any time you get scared, come and get somebody, all right?" He carried Austin out of the room.

I left Terence lost in confusion and followed in Tyrone's footsteps.

Austin was already under his sheets when I got to his room. The pout was gone from his lips. He probably didn't understand what sleeping really meant. I guessed I would have felt the same way if I didn't understand.

I sat at the foot of the bed next to Tyrone until Austin fell asleep. Then, my dry throat led me down to the kitchen. Tyrone went back to his room.

I pulled the fridge door open and grabbed a carton of juice. A plastic bag filled with some type of green leafy vegetable was on the tray underneath. I poked at the bag to see what kind of vegetable was in it.

I thought that was weird. Mom never left vegetables in a plastic bag like that. Neither did Pop.

I carried the juice into the living room and sat in Pop's easy chair. The dark walnut paneling that made up the wall beside me, turned that part of the living room into my own private tree house. Thin slits of mirrors, glimmering like strips of silver in the light coming from the streetlamps, hung on the other wall behind the plants. The polished floor was covered in some areas with carpets and throw rugs. Even the staircase was carpeted.

I curled up in the easy chair. Knowing that these things were always at home for me helped me deal with the burden of going to school.

At that moment, I liked being home. I was safe, secure, surrounded by my family, and didn't have to worry about surprise exams, or spelling bees, or writing things on the blackboard. I had a stack of emergency homework packed away inside my book bag in case I needed it. And there were only a few more school days left.

I gazed at the front door, picturing the whole family coming back from the beach with our sandy shoes that we had to brush off on the front steps. I looked into the kitchen and could see the table, cluttered with whatever leftover food and drinks we carried back from a picnic, waiting in coolers to be put away.

I didn't remember arriving home from the amusement parks and carnivals. I could only recall waking up in bed the next morning.

I leaned my head back against the chair.

Everybody upstairs was probably asleep by now. The dogs in the backyard were quiet. I didn't feel the darkness close in on me here like I did at school. But what did Austin see in his room to make him think that everybody had left him?

I studied the row of steps leading up to the bedrooms.

What was it like to be left behind? And to feel that way at home. Would everybody leave me behind one day?

I shook that scary thought from my head and got up to place the empty carton on top of the kitchen cabinet. I'd rinse it out in the morning. Back upstairs, I leaped into bed, but couldn't go to sleep. I threw the sheets off and snuck into my parents' room again. I saw Terell in there lying between Mom and Pop.

My parents had a king-size bed, but I could still get crushed if I got in their way. So, I rolled myself on top of the thick spread, which always fell off the foot of the bed, as I had done for years.

Chapter 6

Pop always found me. Early the following morning, his snoring automatically stopped, and I heard his feet stumble around the bed and kick me in the behind. Pop was better than an alarm clock for getting me awake. Then he lifted the spread off and tossed me in the bed without even an apology or a "good morning." Terell was already wide-awake. Mom was the only one still sleeping.

By the time I got back home from school that afternoon, I couldn't find my keys in my book bag. I remembered seeing them on my desk in the morning, but I didn't remember packing them in my bag. I wasn't thinking straight all day long and didn't understand why I felt so tired.

I rang the doorbell, hoping somebody was home. I was in a rush to get out of my hot jumper and into a pair of shorts. I saw the van's rear fender sticking out of the carport, so I banged on the door.

No one answered.

I glanced across our narrow alley up at Courtney's window. I scooted over to her front door. "I forgot my keys," I told her.

"Try calling," she suggested, pulling off her jumper.

Might as well. I dialed the number from Courtney's phone. It rang three times.

"Hello?" Pop grumbled.

"You're not up yet?" I said.

Yawning, he said, "I am up."

"No you're not. You didn't hear me downstairs. I had to go next door to call you."

"Come on over," he told me and hung up.

I hurried back before he could fall asleep again.

"Don't change out of your clothes yet," he told me, holding the front door wide open. "We have to pick Austin up and your mom, and I need to drop off some reports at work."

I dropped down on the couch and waited.

Reports. Were his anything like what I had to do for English and American history? Would I be doing reports for the rest of my life?

I pulled out my assignment pad and totaled my whole list of homework assignments for this week when Pop came back downstairs in his short-sleeve shirt, gray slacks, and sandals and handed me the keys.

"Where's Mom?" I asked.

"At a business lunch with a client in Crystal City."

He went into the kitchen.

I walked out to the carport, trying to decide whether or not to start the engine. Instead, I unlocked his door, placed the key in the ignition, and waited for him to come out of the house.

I watched other kids walking down the street and wondered what kind of grades they were carrying inside their backpacks. Mine were still hidden in my closet. A few were stashed away in pockets of my backpack. How much longer could I keep hiding my stuff? I was running out of space.

I stared at a cardinal chirping madly, while perched on a branch, as we backed down the driveway.

If my parents knew about my grades, they would have already said something. Maybe Sister didn't make copies of our work after all. But how could I be sure? I couldn't go up and ask her.

I shut my eyes. All my thoughts seemed to be crashing together inside my head. I didn't know what to believe anymore.

I looked down at my hands. I had been rubbing my fingers together. That was something I did when it was cold outside, not in weather like we had in May. I placed my hands inside my pockets.

As the van rumbled down the road and branches full of leaves appeared to brush their shadows against the corners of the window, I watched Pop sit patiently behind the steering wheel. He had gentle brown eyes just like those of his sons. I could have used his thick dark hair as a pillow. Pop sat up straight like my teachers were always telling us to sit. He tilted his head forward each time he glanced through his outside rearview mirror. He looked confident, like Courtney, but in a calmer way. I didn't see the sadness in his eyes anymore either.

We turned onto G Street and rode down to his office building.

"You want to wait here or come inside?" he asked, parking the van against the curb.

"I'll wait."

Pop turned the ignition key and hopped out of the van with his small briefcase and three large envelopes.

I watched him pull the glass door open and disappear down the hall.

Grandma used to show me pictures of him when he was little. In my favorite one, he was rolling a spare tire beside Grandpa's blue Oldsmobile while Uncle Darrick played with the steering wheel. Suitcases were stacked beside the car because they were leaving for the same beach where Grandma and Grandpa had spent their honeymoon.

I tried picturing that same little boy sitting at a desk in a classroom, but not wearing sandals, shorts, and an undershirt. Did he ever get confused? Did he ever feel lost about things? When I looked at him, it was hard to picture him that way.

I closed my assignment pad and sighed at the sky. I felt as though I was watching my summer pass by before it even began.

A tap against the window interrupted my thoughts.

I unlocked the door, and Pop got back in the van. "Miss me?" he teased. I grinned.

When we pulled up to the day care center he asked me if I was going or staying.

"I'll go." I jumped out of the van and slipped my assignment pad back inside my book bag.

Underneath thick green trees, both day care center doors swung back and forth as parents came to pick up their kids. I headed down a long, wide hallway filled with cupboards. Construction paper in many colors and shapes decorated the pre-kindergarten windows. It was a lot like my kindergarten room back at school, where Terell was spending his school year.

Kids were singing nursery rhymes in one of the rooms.

I remembered being in day care. The work wasn't hard like fifth grade. We went to day care to have fun and discover new things and not worry about passing exams. Why couldn't grade school be fun and easy like day care?

I entered the nursery. "Hey Austin," I called, interrupting his game of blocks.

Dozens of tiny hands reached out to grab my uniform. They shook a pleat of my jumper and watched the wave spread around my waist.

Just then a bigger girl with dark shiny hair stood at the doorway of the pre-kindergarten room, pointed, and exclaimed: "You go to my school!"

Another preschooler came out and stood beside her.

"I go to another school," I told the first one.

Her eyes widen. "That's the school I go to next year. My mommy's buying me that dress." She pointed at the girl next to her. "Cynthia's going to catholic school too."

Cynthia stood next to her with wide brown eyes and a droopy bottom lip. Clasping her hands, she leaned forward and stared at my huge book bag, which was almost as big as she was. I placed it down in front of me, and she backed away a little.

"I can count to a hundred," the first girl said, walking up to me.

I placed Austin's cap on his head while he tried to unbutton all the buttons on his shirt.

"I know my alphabet; I know all my colors; I know how to jump rope. . . ."

Smiling, I nodded. I looked over at Cynthia again, wondering what she was thinking. She still had that frightful look on her face. She didn't seem excited about starting kindergarten.

Austin tried to pick up my backpack and tipped all of my school supplies onto the floor. I looked down the hall but the noises inside the rooms prevented anyone from hearing us.

Cynthia's eyebrows arched as she studied all the items on the floor. I started to put everything back.

"What's that?" the other girl asked, pointing at the floor.

"A ruler," I said.

"What's a ruler?"

"A measuring stick," I told her. I slid it into my side pocket.

"Is that a big storybook?" she asked, staring at my history textbook.

"Sort of," I told her. "Only the stories in here are real."

Cynthia still wouldn't say anything. Was she really that scared about starting kindergarten? It was different from preschool, but it wasn't all that bad. The real work didn't begin until first grade.

"Miss Robin says I wear the prettiest dresses in our garden," the other girl said, twirling it just like Tanya did. She called her classroom a garden. I peered through a window at the colorful toys and plants inside. Maybe to her it was a garden.

"Miss Robin wants you to come in," a boy hollered from the room.

"Bye!" She waved and skipped past Cynthia.

I watched Cynthia chew on her forefinger and tilt her head. I wanted to tell her that grade school wasn't so scary, that it was just a little more work. I wanted to tell but instead I just gave her my biggest smile.

See? If I could still smile like this in grade school then she could too. I waved at her, and smiling, she waved back.

I took Austin's hand and walked him back to the van.

When we reached Crystal City, Mom was standing on the corner, leaning against a lamppost. She smiled when she saw us. Pop pulled over to the corner. "How did it go?" he asked her.

"Fine," she said after she got in the van. "We opened the new account and everything went well. They really were impressed by the Silverman account we got earlier." She placed her purse on the floor. "That presentation conference we had hit some key issues.

"Your work really is an extension of yourself. You take care of your job and it will take care of you. Now I'll be able to take some time off. How you doing back there?"

"Fine," I said as I kissed her cheek.

Looking out the window at the shiny office buildings passing by, I remembered that I still hadn't chosen a topic for my composition. But I figured: if I had made it this far in grade school, an idea would eventually come up.

I pulled my window down an inch and sniffed the fresh spring air. Maybe I could enjoy the summer after all.

We stopped at the drug store and post office before Pop pulled into the carport. As we got out, Mom looked around suspiciously.

"What's wrong?" Pop asked her.

She rubbed her stomach. "I don't know. It's too quiet."

Pop looked back at her. "Where, in there?" He pointed at her stomach.

"No," she said. "In there." She pointed at the house.

"No dogs barking, nobody yelling, screaming, or running past a window?" She stepped up to the front door behind Pop and shook her head. "Something's wrong."

As she said that, I thought I saw the tip of a tail zip past the living room window.

Pop pushed the front door open and blocked the entrance. "Who set these dogs loose in here?" he blasted.

Mom, Austin, and I peeked in around him.

Jumping over Mom's furniture, two huskies chased each other in and out the living room. Princess stood propped on top of the back of the couch with her furry chest raised in front of the air conditioner and her nose sniffing the cool air blowing from it. I didn't see any brothers anywhere.

"Tyrone!" Pop called. "Terell . . . . Kriston!" He headed for the kitchen with us right behind him.

"Who put all these dishes in the sink?" he yelled.

Mom tapped her fingernails against the counter and went back into the living room.

Austin and I stayed quiet.

Pop stormed out the back door, circled the yard, and stormed back in. Scanning the dishes again, he marched to the basement, swung the door wide open, flipped the light switch on, and there they were, all of them, right there on the staircase.

Pop leaned in. "What are you doing?"

"Uuhhh," Kriston started until the sight of Terell's one foot caught everyone's attention.

"Where's your other foot, boy?" Pop demanded. Mom put her briefcase on the cabinet and walked up behind him.

"In there," Terell said, pointing at a fresh new hole between the stairs.

Pop stepped down to investigate while the rest of them backed away. "Go get the crowbar," he ordered Terence while the look of fear ripped across Terell's face. "Get those dogs out the house," he commanded me.

I wanted to stay and watch but I went back into the living room and tried to grab King by the collar.

He thought I was playing and started ducking me. He leaped over the couch. I threw my shoe at him. He ran up the stairs so I started on another one.

Getting the same idea as the other dog, Precious ran to the basement steps, saw Pop, and then sprinted through the kitchen.

"Come here!" I called, chasing her around and under the table until she slithered out the back door. I locked the screen door.

"Uh ex-cuse me, sweetheart," Mom said, waving her hand at Tyrone, "put that bag of chips back where you got it from."

"Mo-om!" Tyrone whined.

"Don't 'mom' me, boy," she snapped, scooping a bowl of dog food out from the bag under the sink. "You'll eat your supper after you clean up this mess." She carried the bowl out to the backyard.

I had thought to ask her the identity of the vegetable in the plastic bag in the fridge and if I would have to eat it for supper, but I figured I'd better wait until later to find out.

In the living room, Princess was stretched across the couch and was rubbing her wet nose against my stuffed teddy bear. I crept in as slowly as I could, hoping she wouldn't budge.

She raised her head at me and cocked one ear. I sat down gently beside her. She swished her tail and rested her paws on my lap. I rubbed her forehead and we cuddled.

Then the doorbell rang.

"I giddit, I giddit!" Austin hollered, running to the front door. "Who is it?" he demanded after he opened it.

"I have a letter here for a Mrs. Celeste Collins," the delivery man said.

Austin slammed the door in the man's face and raced to the basement steps. He hurried back and opened the door. "I take it!" he announced.

The man handed him the letter.

"Dank you!" Austin said and slammed the door in the man's face again.

The sound of heavy feet thumping up from the basement forced me to jump off the couch and hurry Princess out to the backyard.

"Did you get all three?" Pop asked, carrying Terell into the kitchen.

"Three?" I asked as Mom shut the screen door.

"What?"

"I only got Precious and Princess."

"Well go get the other one," he ordered, putting Terell in a chair and taking a hammer and some nails back downstairs.

His pounding faded as I ran upstairs to check the bedrooms. I poked my head into my parents' room. Nothing. I skipped Terence and Tyrone's. Nobody could find anything in the mess those two created. I went into my room and searched the area.

"AAAAAHH!" I screamed! I looked at my bed and saw something disgusting that had no business being there!

I burst back out. "King messed on my bed!" I shouted. "King messed on my bed!" I bolted up and down the hallway until Pop flung his arm out to snatch me before I hit the banister.

"Get that dog!" he blasted. "Kriston go roll up Justine's bedspread and bring it downstairs!"

The beast shot across the end of the hall with his head bowed low and his furry tail curled between his legs.

Terence and Tyrone chased after him while Pop carried me down the stairs.

Mom stood at the foot of the stairs with a surprised look on her face. She was pressing the lower part of her stomach with one hand and holding the opened letter up with the other.

Pop shrugged his shoulders at her, sat in his easy chair, placed me beside him, and tried to stop me from crying.

I refused.

Chapter 7

Friday was report card night.

I was so excited; I just couldn't wait. After everything else that happened to me in the last few days, why not throw this in?

That F on my math test weighed heavy on my brain as we rode away from Grandma's house where we picked up Terence, Tyrone, Kriston, and Terell. It seemed to be my only existing thought.

What happened during the school year? How come I didn't know anything?

Nervously I felt around my wrist for my key holder. It wasn't there! I searched my pockets and suddenly remembered leaving it at home in my backpack. I didn't need the keys now. I clasped my hands together and pressed them against my stomach to stop it from quivering.

The sermon Father Farrin had given at mass a few days before filled my night with fear. I felt his words crowd in on me, making my skin feel as stiff as cardboard. If I kept perfectly still, maybe everybody would forget I was in the van. Then, I could hide until report card night was over.

This trip was worse than a ride in Cheri's elevators. At least while in Cheri's building I knew where I was headed, either up or down. On report card night, I didn't know what to expect.

I leaned my head against the backseat window and looked up. It was dark and gloomy out there; the sun's glow was fading behind the distant trees and houses. The cool night winds wailed all around, making the tip of my ears sting.

Everything the nuns had said was true: There was a hell, and I was heading directly toward it.

Riding back through Alexandria, Pop drove down a narrow steep-sided road that we'd never ridden on before. Usually he took the highway home from Grandma's house. But this time we were going straight to D.C.

Monster-like trees stretched twisted branches over our van on the left, turning the road into a dark tunnel. I stared down the side of the cliff dropping down on our right, and then I gripped the armrest. I couldn't see the lowland through all the rocks and trees. The edge was too near. The only thing that held us up was the narrow road. How long would the road hold out? What if the wheels shifted and we fell in?

If I leaned over an inch, I might cause the whole van to plunge. Frozen in my seat, I tightened my grip on the armrest. I felt like nothing was supporting me anymore, not even the ground.

Suddenly the van swerved to the left, away from the cliff, and I felt a ball of air swerve inside my stomach. I looked up and saw the wide highway in front of us.

Pop drove onto the highway and soon crossed the Williams Memorial Bridge. Streetlights sped by like bright balls of fire. A few cars were traveling in the same gloomy direction. Was anybody else riding in a car feeling the same way I was?

I glanced at my brothers' blank faces. Terell had both palms pressed together and kept watching the ceiling, almost like he was praying.

"Why're you all so quiet?" Pop suddenly asked. We jolted as if a bolt of electricity had shot through us all.

Nobody answered and he didn't bother to ask again. Mom wasn't feeling good so she had stayed home. She said she'd get the rest of the bad news when we got back. I didn't understand what she meant by "the rest of the bad news." Ever since she had gotten that letter Wednesday, she acted strange and wouldn't say what was wrong. She wouldn't show the letter to anybody either.

Terence, Tyrone, Kriston, and Terell had gone to Grandma's right after school and stayed there until it was too late for them to come home by themselves. They had never done anything like that before.

Pop had told Grandma that he would pick them up on our way to school this evening. I didn't know what they were doing all that time at Grandma's house and I didn't care.

We followed one car off the highway in D.C. and went down a narrow street. I wished we could have stayed on the highway with the other cars. I bet they weren't worried about where they were going.

Pop rounded a corner and suddenly the church was in sight. For a moment, I thought that it looked like a large Christmas tree ornament. Then, I remembered why we were there.

My heart pounded. I was sure everyone in the van could hear it.

Lights brightened the upstairs classrooms. Somewhere in that solid brick building, inside a teacher's hand, was my report card, and soon it would be in my father's grip.

What could I do? Where could I run?

The school was my enemy and I could prove it. For instance, every time we went somewhere it took a century for Pop to find a place to park the van. However, on report card night, directly in front of the building there was an empty parking space, waiting.

Pop backed the van in. He shifted the gear handle and removed the ignition key. "Let's go," he said, and I watched him climb out from the driver's side and into the dark night of frightening happenings.

I gripped the collar of my blouse and crawled out the other side, behind my brothers.

We followed a small group of third graders quietly leading their parents into the building as if it were a regular school day. I felt like I was on my way to my own funeral. My legs shivered climbing the steps.

A little boy held the door open for us. He turned back and looked up at the size of Pop and his eyes widened. Pop smiled down at him, but the little boy hurried to catch up with his parents.

As I walked in, I wondered: What did they have? The smart kids. Every single one of them seemed to have enough brains to keep out of trouble. Even now they must have felt very confident.

We passed the darkened office windows of the vice principal and secretary. The VP was upstairs, I was sure. But the secretary was probably at home sitting in front of the TV set with a warm dinner before her. What did she have to be afraid of?

We crossed the first-floor hallway and climbed the steep stairs, which creaked as we went up. Maybe the whole staircase would fall, and they'd rush us to the hospital, and I'd never have to see another report card again!

I sighed as we reached the landing and stepped in through the doors. I peered down the hallway. Parents lined up in front of all the classrooms just as crookedly as their kids had stood during the day. Pop got in line at the first classroom across the hall—mine!

I sighed again. Every year it was the same thing. Teachers remained in their classrooms and the students from that room sent their parents in to pick up the report card and discuss whatever there was to discuss with the teacher.

There was nothing in that room that I wanted, so I waited outside. My brothers leaned up against the wall beside me and huddled together whispering.

I stared down at the floor, wondering what was happening on the other side of that wall, inside the classroom. Suddenly every little shape and shadow at both ends of the crowded hallway became disturbing to me. Outside of this big gathering of classmates and parents, the rest of the school was dark and haunting.

The church, rectory, and convent were connected to the school by tunnels and pathways. Those dark narrow paths and corners led to many hidden places where I didn't want to go, especially at night. What if someone or something was hiding in one threatening to jump out at any moment?

I felt trapped. I braced my back against the wall and pressed my feet against the floor to build up resistance in case something did jump out from the dark corners or around the stairway and tried to grab me. I didn't think I would make it back out to the street if I tried to run. And I couldn't get into the van without the keys.

I had nothing to protect me. Pop once said that knowledge could protect me. How could knowledge protect me?

Suddenly a shadow appeared from out of the stairway. I held my breath.

It was Tanya and her grandparents. She smiled and walked over. She stood beside me as her grandparents got in line.

Then Clarence popped out of the third-grade classroom as Cheri and her parents came down the hall from the other stairway.

Cheri looked at me funny. "Are you all right?" she asked.

Lying, I nodded.

"Well," Clarence said, walking by and shaking everybody's hand, "it was nice knowing you."

"It won't be that bad," Tanya said, shrugging one shoulder.

Just then, the rest of Courtney's family entered the hallway. Her mother was already in line, way ahead of Pop. Courtney trailed behind her brother.

Now I knew how Adrian felt after his big driving bomb out.

"Why don't you ask her again?" Mr. Alteza said, pulling a pipe out from his vest pocket. Then he caught Sister Catherina's disapproving look and carefully placed it back.

"I don't want to keep bugging her," Adrian whispered, jutting his chin at his mother's back.

"You bug me for money," Mr. Alteza said. "I don't see you worrying about that."

"Yeah, but that was before all this came up," Adrian said pointing his finger at Courtney. Then he kept staring at her.

What did report card night have to do with Adrian asking his mom for money? They were after Courtney's report card not his grades.

I watched her, hugging herself against the wall and wearing a heavy frown. She wouldn't even look our way.

Why was she sulking like that? She was the most organized person in our whole group; she didn't have anything to worry about. But, now that I thought about it, I didn't remember actually seeing any of her schoolwork on paper. She made a big fuss over doing it, but she would never bring it out and show it to anybody. We always saw Cheri's work because we delivered it when she was home. And I didn't even think Tanya had seen her own work.

"Hey look," she said, pointing at Jerice and her mother promenading out of our classroom with big toothy grins. Besides my brothers, Jerice was the only kid who still had her uniform on.

"I hate her," I mumbled, not really meaning it. "All she does is get A's."

"At least you don't have to worry about seeing her again when you do your second round of fifth grade next year, right?" Clarence chuckled.

I looked over at him. "I hate you too."

"CLARENCE!"

The back of everybody's head hit the wall as Clarence's father stormed out of the third-grade classroom. His hoarse breathing scratched my eardrums. "Let's go home, Clarence!" Mr. Wills said, crumpling the report card.

Bracing himself against the wall, and out of his father's reach, Clarence wormed his way to the exit doors.

"Your turn, Courtney," Tanya alerted.

Mrs. Alteza swept past, report card in hand, and bolted for the stairs, the bottom of her heels clattering loudly against the buffed floor.

Mr. Alteza threw us a questioning look and followed his wife.

Courtney swallowed hard, grabbed her brother's hand, and the two of them staggered out.

I gasped and pointed down the hall. "Courtney?" I shrieked. I couldn't believe it. Was all that talk about studying really just an act? Did she actually flunk something?

I peeked inside the room. Pop wasn't in line anymore. I leaned in a little and saw him facing the window with his head down. He was still reading my report card!

Suddenly I felt a rush of cold air burst open inside me, as if all of my warm blood cells had instantly dried up and there was nothing left but empty space.

"Take it easy, will you?" Tyrone urged, shaking my arm. "What could happen? Pop's an easy going guy. Just explain your side of the story, so he won't think the teachers know everything."

I didn't have a side to the story. My head was spinning.

"You probably didn't do as bad as all that." He flung his arm around my neck. "Besides, the law's on our side." His lips curled into a grin.

He was in the third grade and he thought he knew everything. His surefire grin didn't help me at all.

Okay, maybe he did do better than I had done. Maybe Terence did better in fourth grade than I had. Maybe Kriston did better in second. And Terell could have topped us all off with a straight A kindergarten average. But what did that information do for me now? They never offered to help me with my schoolwork. Then again, I didn't do a lot of schoolwork.

"How much can one report card mean anyway?" Tanya added. "It's not like they can see everything we did in class." She tap-danced in front of me. "If you look busy all year long then they'll put down that you've used a lot of effort."

But did that really work? Courtney had looked busy all year long. And all that time I thought she was as devoted to her schoolwork as Cheri was. But Mrs. Alteza wouldn't have stormed out of the classroom if something wasn't wrong with Courtney's grades.

I looked down the crowded hallway.

All those heads I saw buried in books, were they just pretending like Tanya said they had been?

Suddenly, I saw Tanya's grandparents charging out of the door. "What kind of nonsense is this?" Mrs. Gordon raved.

I thought to warn Tanya because her back was to the classroom, but it was too late. Each grandparent grabbed an arm and carried her out.

I glanced back at the classroom and sucked in my breath. I was next.

I thought of running down to church for a quick prayer, but Pop had the report in his hand and was heading my way. Once one foot crossed the doorway, I pushed Terence up in front of me.

Eyes directly on mine, Pop asked, "F in math?"

I gasped.

"What's the matter?" he demanded, shaking his head. "You don't know how to talk now?"

"No," I mumbled. "I mean yeah!" I corrected.

He stood there forever, burning me with his eyes, which weren't gentle anymore. Then he got in line in front of Terence's classroom, and I let the air come out.

When my lungs emptied, I dropped my head onto Terence's back.

Pop knew everything, what I did do and what I didn't do, all the assignments I had messed up, the math test, everything.

I watched him sandwiched between two mothers. His hands were buried deep inside his pants pockets. By the way he stood there with his shoulders sagging, I could tell he was really disappointed in me. Even though he was a big man, it was still easy to hurt him.

Not only did I flunk almost all of my subjects, but I also let him down. He wanted more for me. Why hadn't I seen this before?

I watched the line move. The nearer he would get to the classroom, the farther he would get from me. I didn't like the distance that was growing between us. I wanted to run to him and make up for everything, but I didn't know how.

I started to go tell him how sorry I was and that I would try to do better, but as soon as he passed through the doorway where he couldn't see us, four brothers split. Two raced down one end of the hall, two down the other.

Stunned, Cheri and I gaped at each other. "Where are they going?" she asked me.

I shook my head and spread my arms out, confused.

Then her parents came out and smiled at her, the only straight A student in the bunch.

"I'll see you later, okay?" she whispered, waving as they headed for the exit.

Eyes straight ahead, lips shut tight, Pop marched to the next classroom. I backed up against the wall again, giving him plenty of room. I could see the anger building up inside of him, just waiting to explode.

A nighttime horror show for sure, but I knew the real horror wouldn't begin until we got home, as if anything worse could happen.

Feeling as though my shoulders were holding bricks, I slumped to the floor beside Austin while Pop marched around collecting report cards.

"No TV, no videos, no telephones, no music, nothing until I see those grades go up!"

We were sitting in the van, quietly going home.

"Who do you think will support you the rest of your life, huh? You think it will be me? Huh?"

I wondered where he had found my brothers.

"Because if that's what you think, I'm telling you right now, once your butts hit 18, whether you got the diploma or not, you're hauling it out of my house!"

He stopped for about two seconds. "Where's your mother?"

We looked at each other. "Home, pregnant," I said timidly. Did he forget?

He glimpsed through the rearview mirror and I saw how his eyebrows lowered and the skin above his nose crinkled. "Terell!" he called, "what's this I hear of you giving Clarence a dollar twenty-five to help you with some show-and-tell project?"

"I didn't," Terell said. "I only gave him five quarters."

Pop shook his head. "Five quarters is a dollar twenty-five!" He gripped the steering wheel. "You've got three brothers and a sister at home to help you; what in God's name sent you to Clarence?"

Terell looked at the rest of us.

"Is he your teacher?" Pop asked. "Is he responsible for your education? Whatever happened to asking your teacher? What happened to asking your father?" Pop's face wrinkled up, almost as if he was about to cry. I had never seen him look that way before, and it scared me.

"Who told you to go pick leaves on the other side of town when you've got leaves growing right in your own backyard?" Pop rocked his head from side to side. "Half a kindergarten class with poison ivy," he mumbled. "You thought to use the tweezers and a plastic bag for yourself, why'd you let your friends touch it? Didn't you know it was poison ivy?"

Plastic bag? That green leafy vegetable in the fridge was poison ivy?

My jaw dropped.

Pop looked at Terell through the rearview mirror. "Well?"

"Clarence said the tweezers would keep the leaves from getting bent and the plastic bag would keep them nice and fresh," Terell explained.

Pop blinked twice and curved his eyebrows. "How does . . . Why . . . What kind of . . ." He raised his eyebrows and shook his head from side to side. Then he mumbled something out the corner of his lips, but I couldn't hear it.

"And you, Tyrone!" he started again. "You think Miss Wilkin forgot about you?"

Tyrone squirmed down in his seat between Terence and Kriston.

"If 3 didn't divide evenly into 33 when you were in second grade, what made you think it would work for your brother?"

Now Kriston squirmed down next to Tyrone.

"And explain this one to me, how do you solve the same math problem 10 times and wind up with 13 different answers?" Pop waited. "And then you want to get into a debate over it with the teacher?

"I'm not putting up with any more of this, you understand?" he hollered. "You were not put in school to cheat on your brother's homework! If you've had that grade already, you let him have an honest go at it for himself!

"I'm not paying tuition to have you sit inside a classroom twiddling your thumbs. You think this education is free? You think my money grows on trees? You think I enjoy throwing my money away like th— No, let me rephrase that. Do you think?"

Silence.

"Bright and early tomorrow morning and straight through the weekend that's all you'll be doing, you understand? You will remain glued to those desks and except for meals and the bathroom, your butts will not rise from that seat! You all got that?"

"Yes," we muttered. In one ear, out the other.

After we pulled into the carport, Pop turned the ignition key, mumbled something else, and climbed out of the van.

Lying in bed, thinking about what had happened, I was so glad that report card night was over. Drained empty in the pit of my stomach, I stared up at the ceiling. Our parents weren't empty; they knew everything, not just about me either. I wondered if they were in their room talking now.

I snuck out of bed and put my ear to the door. I didn't hear anything. I cracked it open and peeked down the hall. Under their bedroom door I could see a yellow stream of light.

I shut my door and looked at my desk still stacked with schoolwork.

I climbed back in bed, pulled the sheet up to my neck, and lay my head against the soft pillow.

The whole school came to life for me that night: The bright streams of light for studying, the library where answers could be found for questions unanswered, the lockers for storing textbooks and school supplies so that we would always be prepared. All the things that I had ignored earlier came rushing back to me at once, like a gigantic wave that had been building up for weeks. I was warned about this night, but I wouldn't pay attention.

I rolled over on my side to face the window. A light breeze raised the curtain. I could see Courtney's window opened; it was dark in there. I wondered if she was lying awake in bed too.

The sermon was still floating around in the back of my mind, and little by little, it haunted me in my own room. I wasn't scared, though. The darkness at home was friendlier than it was at school; it felt good. There were no secret corridors or narrow pathways connecting my room to unknown places. This darkness was familiar, and I felt warm and secure surrounded by my things.

I heard a car rumble down the road past Courtney's house and I cringed a little, remembering our ride of terror earlier. But the school was closed now, and report card night was over.

I hugged the corner of my pillow and stared at the night air out the window. What kept preventing me from getting ahead? Or more important, what did I let prevent me from getting ahead? I couldn't reach back into my brain and pull out a single answer for that question, just like I couldn't find an answer for Austin the other night.

I wondered if Cynthia would ever go through this when she started grade school. Back when I finished daycare, I was worried too, because I hadn't known what first grade would be like and who I would meet. Then there were the teachers. Who looked mean? Who gave the most homework? Who gave the hardest exams?

I used to wonder what the upper grades had to go through. Watching them sitting in the auditorium with their teachers, the ones I would have to face, they talked and laughed like everybody else does. The only difference between them and me was their knowledge of some things that I hadn't yet learned.

We all had in common a history at that elementary school to haunt us for the rest of our lives.

Headlights flashed against the windowsill as another car rumbled past the house. Then it was quiet again.

I moved the damp bed sheet away to air out my sweaty neck.

I guessed there was no point in looking forward to summer. I had to put my mind on doing my schoolwork all over again. I didn't want to go through another report card night like that ever: Paying Clarence a dollar twenty-five for a better choice of leaves and then winding up with poison ivy; cheating on your brother's homework just because you already had that grade. It was clever. It didn't work but it was clever. I shut my eyes and sighed.

I didn't think kids could make their parents as upset as we made our parents. I wrapped my arms around my stomach.

Many times Pop used to tell me that if I had problems I should come to him or Mom. Some kids in my school didn't have a parent to encourage them to do right or to worry when they did wrong.

Pop once told me that I could improve my schoolwork by balancing my schedule. I guess I'll be starting this schedule soon.

I rolled onto my back and stared at the streetlight's reflection glittering against the ceiling and making my eyes sleepy.

If I did my work a little at a time and not wait for the big pile up at the last minute, there was no reason why I couldn't pass. And like Father Farrin said, maybe it would pay off in the future.

Why did it take this type of catastrophe to finally get my brain working?

"I love you Daddy," I whispered.

Chapter 8

At seven o'clock the next morning, I sat at my desk determined. Math first, then Reading. The morning sunlight was barely peeking through the trees and shimmering on the roofs of houses, but still it brightened my whole desk. Even the wind moved in whispers. A few birds could be heard twittering in the trees and two squirrels chased each other across a wooden fence.

Although it looked the same, this morning felt different from the others. I still couldn't get over what had happened the night before. I had thought that I was the only one with bad grades. I thought my brothers had done a lot better than I had done; they acted like they did. And I was sure that Courtney was bringing home A's.

But it hadn't turned out that way at all. Tanya, Courtney, Clarence, Tyrone, and Kriston would also have summer school just like I would. I would go for math and social studies. I almost had to go for English, but Sister said if I did extra well on my composition with the right punctuation, spelling, words from the vocabulary list, and sentence buildup-she'd pass me and I wouldn't have to take the class over again this summer.

I thumbed the corner of my notebook pages and sighed.

Cheri was the only one who hadn't acted like she knew everything. She sure felt sorry for us last night I could tell.

I looked around at the peaceful reminders of my bedroom: my polished walnut desk was covered with school supplies, games and toys which I'd collected since the age of two, sat along both wall shelves; and a family of stuffed dolls was scattered across a soft beige spread that hugged my redwood bed. My small library and comic book collection filled one corner of my room with thoughts, and the view from my window was of treetops fluttering behind Courtney's roof.

The whole house was quiet, proving that my brothers were at their desks too.

Calmly and without fear this time, I opened my math book and focused on problem number one. I was not even going to peek at the other problems until I had tackled number one.

Here goes nothing.

That night we had a serious family meeting in the living room where we reviewed out loud to our parents all of our assignments. I was surprised about how much we knew. I think they were impressed too.

Mom looked pleased, but her face was acting funny. Something was bothering her. It couldn't have still been that letter.

Pop was smiling and shaking his head from side to side, as though he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Every time he shouted with joy at a right answer, shivers shot down my back.

On Sunday we ran out of homework, so our next project was to study everything we did in class. I still had the three encyclopedias that I had taken upstairs Saturday night. After I finished reading about the American Revolution and how a small group of people could have such a big effect in the growth of their country, I became curious about other encyclopedia articles. There was a Russian Revolution? Seven Wonders of the Ancient World? Seven deadly sins! What were they? I was thumbing through the pages when the phone rang.

"Justine!" Mom called from downstairs. "It's Tanya!"

"Okay!" I hollered. I ran into my parents' bedroom and grabbed the receiver off the dresser. "Hello?"

"You survived it, huh?" Tanya said.

Sighing, I told her, "Yeah, how about you?"

"Oh sure," she said. "They weren't that upset."

I stared at myself through Mom's mirror. "Tanya, they carried you out of the building."

"Oh I know that," she said. "But after the shock wore off we sat down together and went through all my work from day one."

"Day one when?" I asked.

"The first day of school."

"You did all that in one night?" I asked her.

"No," she explained. "We started on September homework and got stuck on the metric system two months later."

"Got stuck?"

"Yeah, they've never had the metric system."

Dumbfounded, I glanced out the bedroom door behind me. "What do you mean they've never had it?"

"I don't think it was invented yet," she said. "Hey listen, since they can't figure it out, and I know you can't figure it out, why don't we go over it together at my house?"

I thought a minute. Studying at Tanya's?

"I know!" I told her. "I'll call Cheri and see if we can study over there. Meet me out front and we'll catch the bus."

"But she's not even going to summer—"

I hung up before Tanya could say no. Then I dialed Cheri's number, and she said we could come over.

I ran downstairs to see Pop. We had a long discussion and I was surprised to learn that it was true; he had to learn the metric system on his own because they didn't teach it when he went to grade school.

I was puzzled. If they didn't teach the metric system in school then, how could I be sure that he learned all the other subjects we had to learn now? And what about the next grade? What other new things would they start teaching us?

I went upstairs and brought my math homework back down so we could go over it again. I looked at the cover of the thick textbook and wondered if Pop's old one was thinner than mine. Maybe the books got bigger each time a new math problem was created.

"I don't understand how you can learn this on your own," I told him.

"You study through," he said. "Take your time and follow the directions in the book. If it's still not clear, find another source."

"Another source?"

"Ask an instructor; find more books on the subject at the library." He scribbled something down on his scrap paper. "Don't just rely on one source if you feel you don't understand what's going on. Look to see for yourself. That way you build up your own skills to trust your own judgments."

I wondered if Cheri had another source. If she did, would she share it with the rest of us?

"Tanya!" I suddenly blurted. "I forgot about Tanya!"

"You forgot about Tanya?" he asked. "What do you mean by that?"

"I told her I'd go with her over to Cheri's so we could study together."

"Call her back," he said.

"I can't. She's waiting out front now," I said, scooping my books off the dinette table. I dropped them into my backpack. "Can I go?"

"Yes!" He grinned. "Definitely go."

I followed him into the living room.

"Dad!" Kriston howled, racing Tyrone down the stairs. "You gotta take me to basketball practice!"

"You have to take me to basketball practice," Pop corrected.

"Yeah!" Kriston said. "I gotta go now!" He stuffed a pair of shorts into his backpack.

"Why do you wait until the last minute to tell me everything?" Pop criticized.

I shut the front door and found Tanya sitting on the steps writing. "Why didn't you come in?" I asked her.

"I was kind of in the middle of something," she said. "And we're waiting for Janot. She stopped by, and I told her to come with us to Cheri's to study, so she went home to get her stuff."

I sat beside Tanya. "Did she get her grades back?"

"Didn't ask."

"Hi!" Trevor squealed, bouncing up the front walk.

Janot kept pace right beside him.

"Hi," she said. "You guys ready?"

"Yeah," I said, getting up.

"Courtney, we're ready!" Tanya yelled up to her window.

"Okay, be right down," Courtney hollered back.

"Her mother's letting her go?" I was surprised. "I thought she was on total punishment?"

"She is," Tanya said. "That's why she's coming. If Cheri can get straight A's then there's no reason why Courtney can't. She needs to spend as much time with Cheri as possible." Tanya slammed her book shut, slipped it into her bag, and hopped up. "At least that's what her mom told me at the door."

Courtney, loaded with books, burst out. "'Ey, I need help over here!"

We rushed over and each carried a set.

"Jeez," Tanya said. "How many books are you bringing?"

"Most of these are Adrian's old grammar books," Courtney explained, adjusting her loaded backpack. "Mom found them somewhere in the attic and wants me to keep them in my room."

Tanya looked at one. "These old things?"

Courtney nodded.

Heading toward the bus stop, Tanya asked her, "What did your mom do after you got home Friday night?"

"Nothing," she said, staring down at the books.

Tanya took a quick peek at me. "She didn't tell you anything?"

"What's there to tell?" Courtney responded. "It's not my fault if the teachers can't get through to their students."

I remembered watching how the teachers had talked to the parents Friday night and I wondered what words they used to explain their kids. Would the parents be madder at the teacher or their kids?

"My mom said if my grades didn't pick up, I was getting a tutor after school next year and on the weekend," Janot explained.

"Aren't they expensive?" Courtney asked.

Janot shrugged.

The bus pulled to the curb and the doors swung open. There were only three passengers on board. Where was everybody this weekend?

Tanya twirled a lock of hair on her head. "Now I can start wearing my summer barrettes," she said. "Jerice already had on her fancy clip-on seashell barrettes all last week."

"Only because she hasn't gotten caught wearing it yet," Courtney pointed out. "Anyway what's the point of dressing up to go to summer school?"

"When we get out of summer school, I mean," she said.

"And when will that be?" I mumbled, thinking of the long hot days ahead sitting in a classroom while everybody else was at the beach or amusement park, doing what was supposed to be done in summer.

We got off the bus and walked over to Cheri's block. There were more people scattered around, so I didn't feel like I was missing out on anything.

"There's your boyfriend," Courtney told Tanya.

We peered down the path and saw the quiet guard talking to someone in front of the building opposite Cheri's.

I stiffened.

"Hmm," Tanya said and kept walking.

Courtney raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so now he's not your type?"

"He never was," Tanya answered.

The guard's head turned. I shifted my eyes forward and raised Courtney's textbooks onto my shoulder to block my face from him. Why hadn't I told Cheri to meet me at my house?

Suddenly I heard keys jingling. I thought to close my eyes when suddenly he passed by, heading toward the lobby. I stopped, ready to turn around and rush back to the bus stop.

He unlocked the door and swung it open. "Last minute studying?" he asked.

Courtney looked at him. "Yes," she said. "Cheri Simmins invited us over. Apartment 10C?"

Smiling, he held the door. Trembling, I rushed inside after Courtney and Tanya. Afraid to look back, I listened to the door shut behind me and didn't hear any keys jingling.

I shifted the heavy books and wiped beads of sweat from my neck and forehead. I couldn't tell if he was being polite or checking up on us.

"Did he ever speak to you guys before? That was the first time he spoke to me." Courtney said, pressing the elevator button.

Neither one of us answered. I peered back to see if anybody was coming. The lobby was empty.

When we arrived at Cheri's apartment, Courtney rang the doorbell.

"Look!" Tanya said, pointing at a stream of water seeping through the bottom of the door. Suddenly, the door opened.

"Hey, Cheri," I muttered, peeking inside. Water was gushing all over their floor.

"You know your apartment is flooded?" Tanya asked.

"Yeah," she said, wearing what used to be her fluffy, blue bunny slippers.

"You going to clean it up or what?" Courtney asked, as we tiptoed into the hallway.

"I was just about to get Dad out of the bathroom," she explained. "He flooded the house doing the laundry."

She rapped on the bathroom door. "Daddy?"

"What?" Mr. Simmins answered.

"Could you come out here a minute please?"

I heard a toilet seat drop and her father soon opened the door. "Aw, Judas Priest!"

Tanya leaned toward me. "Judas was a priest?" she whispered.

I shrugged.

Mr. Simmins waded down the hall and into their kitchen where the flood was higher. "For crying out loud . . . ." He examined the washing machine, threw the newspaper down, and then spun around to face us.

"Mrs. Simmins does not have to know anything about this!" he started. "If we pull together we can get this mess straightened out in about . . ." he looked around, "about a couple of hours. So let's get cranking."

We all stared at him.

He raised his eyebrows. "You'll each get five dollars?"

We dropped our books and went to work.

I ran to the hall closet and swiped every towel I could reach. Cheri snatched the mop. Courtney gathered a bunch of sponges from under the kitchen sink. Janot tried to help Mr. Simmins stop the flow of water by plugging the hose back up to the machine until Trevor asked why they didn't just turn the faucet off.

We poured gallons of water into the bathtub. Two hours later we were down to rags, sponges, and the mop. Every window in the living room was wide open to air out the bottom of the furniture.

Since the water was clean, there were no dark stains on the sofas or chairs. The étagère, coffee table, and wall unit were made of glass and silver. They just needed a good polish. As I started to buff the furniture, I wondered where Cheri's mom was but decided not to ask.

"Where's Trevor?" Janot suddenly cried out, searching the room. "Where's Trevor?" She leaped to her feet and hurried down the hall. "Trevor . . . . Trevor!"

Alarmed, I glanced at an open window, dropped my sponge, and raced behind Janot.

Passing the den, I saw a tiny hand reaching out from behind the door. I leaned in a little closer and followed the hand, the arm, and the shoulder until it led to the face of a toy dummy.

I jumped back. The twisted red lips, crossed-eyes, and spiked hair made me to want to throw the ugly doll out the window.

"The window!" I hissed, staring at it wide open. "Did you find Trevor?" I hollered, running out to the hall.

"No!" Janot shrieked, zipping from room to room. "Where is he?"

"Calm down," Mr. Simmins said, forming sweat above the eyebrows. "Now, where was the last place you saw him?"

Janot shook her head. "I don't remember."

"Do you remember Trevor coming in the house with you?" he asked, wiping the sweat with his handkerchief.

"Yes," Janot cried.

"What happened next?"

"Umm," she said, "we came in, saw the flood, went to the washing machine, stopped it . . . umm, soaked the water up . . . and that's when he was missing." She brushed a tear away that had fallen to her trembling lips.

"Did anybody see Trevor leave the kitchen?" Mr. Simmins asked.

"All I saw was water," Tanya said.

"He might be hiding?" Courtney suggested.

"Listen," Mr. Simmins piped. "We'll start at that end of the house and work our way up to the kitchen." He marched down the hall, straight toward his bedroom.

We followed. We searched under the bed and around the dresser and night tables. Tanya pulled out the bottom dresser drawers. I guessed that Trevor could have fit in one if he had lain down.

Mr. Simmins swung the closet doors open and rummaged through them.

"Wait!" Tanya squealed, after he had shut them. She reopened one door and removed a hatbox that had covered a small pair of sneakers.

Sighing with relief, Janot rushed to the closet and slowly carried out a sleeping Trevor.

"Thank goodness," Mr. Simmins said, dropping down on his bed.

Just then a whistling sound came from somewhere in the room.

Everybody froze.

"Is the machine still on?" I asked.

"It's not coming from there," Courtney said, peering down the hall. She looked back at the bed. "It's coming from that." She pointed at Trevor's nose.

We inched in closer.

Trevor had started snoring.

"He wasn't snoring like that before," Courtney said. "Otherwise we would've found him.

"You have to go to sleep with that every night?" Tanya asked Janot.

Janot sat on the bed and held Trevor in her arms, almost as if she were afraid he would disappear again if she'd let him go.

I patted Janot's shoulder. "Let's go up front and start our work now," I said, understanding exactly how she felt about her little brother. I walked her back to the living room.

She placed Trevor on the couch and we put away all the cleaning equipment and spread our books out on the dinette table.

"Cheri, I'm going to the manufacturer to see if I can get a new hose," Mr. Simmins said.

"Okay, Daddy," Cheri said.

"Here." He walked around the table, handing each one of us a five dollar bill and went over and placed a folded ten dollar bill inside Trevor's pants pocket. Then he carried the wrapped up hose, still dripping wet, down the hall.

I sat in a chair facing their dinette window and saw an airplane soar into a large cloud. I watched as the craft and its cloud both slowly drifted away and wondered where all the early vacationers on board were going.

The living room and dinette now smelled as if a bleach wave had splashed down a big rinse job and then disappeared. The surface of the glass dinette table felt cool from the high winds, 10 stories up, that were blowing in the window. I took a deep breath. Maybe this was as close to an ocean breeze as I would get. Sighing, I opened my notebook to the math work.

"What's your mom going to say when she comes home and sees this?" Tanya asked Cheri.

She hunched her shoulders.

With all the secrets that had already come out, I was pretty sure Mrs. Simmins would find out about her washing machine sooner or later.

"Think you'll be able to make more summer plans?" Cheri asked Courtney.

"Yeah, sure," Courtney said. "As soon as we get the stupid schoolwork out of the way, so I can use my time on something important."

Cheri removed a blank sheet of loose-leaf paper from her binder and placed it next to her math book, which was opened to the last assigned problems. Then she picked up her pencil.

Everybody watched her.

"What're you getting ready for?" Courtney asked, staring at the blank sheet.

"To go over the work again with you guys," Cheri told her.

"But you're not going to summer school," Tanya said.

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared," Cheri said.

"At the end of the semester?" Janot asked.

Cheri marked her paper. "We're going to need this stuff next year."

"Next year?" Courtney shrieked.

"For what?" Tanya said, staring at Cheri. "You don't do fifth grade work in sixth grade."

Cheri sighed and told them, "It's good practice." Then she lowered her head.

I looked at Tanya. "She ought to know."

"Come on, let's get started." Courtney pulled out all of her books and spread them across the table. Janot took out her binder and a stack of rumpled papers with notes written on them.

Tanya stacked thin spiral notebooks, one for each subject, beside her pastel pencil case.

I dug out all my notes from the morning. "Pop showed me how to work the metric system," I said to everybody, as I laid the sheets out in front of me. "It's not really that hard."

"How can your pop know anything about the metric system when they just started teaching it a few of years ago?" Tanya blurted. "They didn't have it when he was a kid, remember?"

"He took it later."

Tanya shook her head. "This is the new math, Justine. They don't teach the new math to old people." She flipped open her math workbook.

I stared at her. "But he said he studied it on his own."

"Doesn't matter."

I stared at my sheets, wondering if I knew what I was doing or if I was falling into another pit. "He even explained how to measure it, not the same way Sister did, but the answers are still right."

"That's how they did it in the old school," Courtney told me, pointing at my sheets. "You have to use the new methods now."

The old school? I looked at the answers. How could they do this in the old school if it was the new math? And how would she know what they did in the old school? She wasn't there.

I ran down the problems again. "See, the answers are right." I showed her that the answers on my sheet were the same as the ones in the book.

"Anybody can copy answers," she accused me.

"They're not copied," I tried to explain. "I worked these out on paper right here." I pointed at the examples where each solution to a problem was written out step-by-step.

"But you did it the wrong way," Tanya said. "That's not how Sister did it on the board. She didn't put all that extra stuff in there."

"The extra stuff is each step to the problem written down, that's all," I said.

"But you don't need to write all that down," Tanya said. "You do the easy part in your head."

Why were they arguing with me? Pop explained this to me all morning. Now they were trying to tell me it was wrong?

"Let's do social studies first," Courtney said. "Who's got the textbook notes?"

"I do," Cheri answered. She opened her notebook and everybody tilted their heads sideways. Her pages on the left were written in blue ink and the pages on the right were in black.

"Why'd you use two different pens?" Courtney asked her.

"I use one to write down what the teacher says in class and the other for the notes from the book," Cheri explained.

"How many notes do you keep?" Courtney and Tanya asked at the same time.

"That depends on the class," she told them.

Everyone stared at her.

"You don't highlight the textbook pages?" Janot asked.

Cheri nodded. "Sure I do. But I still like all my notes in one subject close together."

Janot nodded and blinked twice. Her forehead still crinkled with worry lines.

"I got mine highlighted," I said, raising my social studies textbook. "I didn't get that many notes, though."

Cheri looked at the ruffled sheets of loose-leaf paper in front of Janot. "You take yours down on scrap paper?" she asked.

"Yeah," she said. "The teacher reads it out so fast and I don't want it looking sloppy when I write the final copy. I haven't put it in my notebook yet."

"If you know about the subject beforehand, you'll be able to keep better notes," Cheri told her.

"No one knows what a teacher is going to teach," Courtney retorted.

"They give out the syllabus in the beginning of the year," Janot told her.

"That doesn't mean they won't change everything around later," Courtney replied. "Then what're you suppose to do with an old syllabus?"

Cheri, Janot, and I exchanged glances.

"I want to start the composition," Tanya said. "What's a good thing to write about? Name something easy so I can be through with it."

"We haven't even finished social studies yet," Cheri said. "Or the metric system."

"We can get to that later," Tanya told her. "Pick out something that we can all write about."

"We can't do it like that," Cheri explained. "We each have to write about something different."

"It will be different," Tanya said. "We'll take one topic and write it down differently." She grinned.

Cheri frowned. I slumped in my seat. The composition was my only escape out of English for the summer; if I messed it up I was doomed.

"How about I make a list of things and we can all choose?" I suggested, hiding the notes for my composition under the table.

Tanya shook her head. "That's too much writing." She tossed her math notebook back into her book bag. "Just pick one thing and we'll each write something different about it." Then she opened her English book.

"That's not fair," Courtney said. "Why should I pick out the same great idea for everybody else to use so that they can get the same grade? We get graded on what we pick too, you know."

"So?" Tanya said. "Even if we each did pick out something different, there's still a chance some of us might pick the same thing. So we might as well do that now and get that part over with."

"No," Courtney said, closing her book and pushing it to the side. "I don't think so."

Tanya dropped her paper down. "Look, in here it says organize ideas to express clearly. That's all we have to worry about."

"Organize ideas clearly?" Courtney cocked her head. "What kind of organization do you call this?"

"It's a simple basic principle," she explained. "The first-"

"Don't teach if you don't know how," Courtney sneered.

Tanya's eyebrows rose. "Now I know why your mother says you don't apply yourself!"

Courtney glared at her.

"We're wasting time," Cheri tapped her pencil against the table.

"All right, all right, all right," Courtney said, waving her hands. "I'll list four things. We'll each choose one and write whatever we want about it." She wrote down a list in her notebook and then tore the page into four strips. She folded them and laid them in the center of the table. "Whichever topic you pick, that's the one you do. You go first." She told Tanya.

Tanya picked the folded sheet farthest from her, shook it open, and read it.

"Now you," Courtney told me.

Doubtful, I picked the one nearest me and opened it.

"Now you," she told Cheri. "Now me." She picked the last sheet.

I read mine. It said, "Explain why outdoor hiking is important to me." This wasn't important to me; it was important to Courtney.

"Why I think getting a driver's license is important?" Tanya read and then looked at Courtney. "I don't."

"You do if you want to go somewhere," Courtney clarified, turning to the composition page of her English book.

"If I want to go somewhere, my grandmother takes me." She looked at my sheet. "What did you get?" She took the sheet before I could answer. "I'll do that one, you do this." She tossed over the one she had.

I stared at it. "I don't know anything about driving."

"Tch! All right, we'll do a new topic," Courtney peeled the torn ridges off her notebook and grabbed her pen. "We'll each write about all the summer vacation plans we talked about earlier, but we'll write them down like we've done them."

My mind started feeling cloudy. I couldn't get a clear picture of what we were doing. "Can't we decide for ourselves what to write about?" I asked.

"We all wanted to do this, Justine, remember?" she said. "We sat back there and planned it together." She pointed down the hall toward Cheri's room.

"Yeah, but. . . ." I looked down at my work. This wasn't going right. I sulked as Courtney and Tanya started writing at the top of their papers. I felt a distance growing between me and others again, the same one I had felt between Pop and me on report card night, but this time it was between me and the two of them. Was this what studying together was going to be like?

"How'd your pop tell you to do your outline?"

Courtney asked me.

I glared at her. "Why, so you can destroy that too?"

"Tch! I'm just asking a question. How'd he say to do the outline?"

"He said 'after the Roman number in the top left-hand corner, write the introduction paragraph but in a short way, and then list the meanings with capital letters, and then list and number all the facts,'" I told her.

"He's wrong," Tanya announced.

"Huh?" My jaw dropped.

"Look, see, you write the Roman numbers right next to the capital letters." She crossed off each line on my outline paper and marked it again. "Then write one, two, three, four underneath for each sentence." She held the sheet up in front of me. "Like this."

"Nooo, nooo," Courtney protested, shaking her head. "The capital letters come first, then the Roman numerals."

"The Roman numerals go in front of the capital letters!" Tanya said crossly.

"My dad told me it goes like this," I said, taking the sheet.

"Things have changed since our parents went to school, Justine," Courtney said, snatching the sheet back from me. "That's why we have to work together." She threw it face-down on a pile of books.

I looked around the table. How could I work like this? I looked over at Cheri's blank paper. She hadn't written one thing down since we started.

"You write down the capitol letters," Courtney explained, "and then the Roman numerals . . . like this." She placed the sheet in front of Tanya.

Tanya brushed it away and rolled her eyes. "You want to flunk this assignment, that's your business."

I picked up my sheet and looked at what Tanya had scratched off and Courtney had written down. What if they were both wrong? What did it hurt for me to find out for myself? I just wouldn't tell them.

With all these books and papers piled on the table, they couldn't even see the glass tabletop. So, I held my outline paper on my lap under the table, crossed out Tanya's marks, and rewrote everything down the way Pop had told me. I'd have to check for myself later to see if it was right.

Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw Cheri watching. I covered the sheet fast, but she was already smiling. She peeled off a strip of loose-leaf paper and wrote something on it and slipped it to me under the rim of the table.

I unfolded it and read, "If you want, we can work on this tomorrow morning before class. You, me, and Janot only, depending on what time she has to be at her school." I smiled back and wrote, "Can you show me how to do the outline first?"

"Sure, it's easy," she wrote back. "Exactly the way your dad did it."

I beamed, feeling secretly confident all of a sudden. Was this how Courtney once felt? I wondered. I would have asked but she was still arguing with Tanya.

"Because that's not the way it's supposed to be done!" she yelled.

"I'm telling you, Sister explained . . . ." Tanya ranted.

I folded the note and placed it in my book bag's side pocket and leaned back in my chair. My chest didn't feel like it was holding bricks anymore and my head seemed to clear.

Cheri didn't look at all worried. What was she thinking? Whatever it was, she wasn't sharing it with the rest of us. Staring at her thumbing through her history book and remembering the events I described in my encyclopedias, I wondered if I could travel through time with her. I looked down at my book bag at the fake math paper I'd planned on turning in earlier.

Suddenly I realized that I had my own directions. I didn't have to go with Cheri; I could go my own way. We could still work together, though.

"You keep looking for the easiest answer!" Courtney shouted.

"I do not!" Tanya shouted back. "I look for the right answer!"

I looked at Janot. Her worry lines increased as her eyes swung back and forth between Courtney and Tanya. She rested her head in the palm of her hand, as though she was about to cry. They must have blocked her head with so much doubt by now that she couldn't think straight either.

I tried to signal her, but she wouldn't look my way. I tore off a corner of the math paper and scribbled a note about the before-school meeting with Cheri. Then I balled it up and watched Tanya with her back to me.

"It doesn't matter what I put," she said, "as long as I put."

"But that's not. . . . You can't just throw down answers, they have to make sense!" Courtney told her.

I cringed and pushed my fake math work farther down inside my bag.

Tanya leaned toward Courtney to emphasize her point, and I tried to toss the folded note to Janot while Tanya had her back to us. But then Tanya suddenly stood up straight, and I hid the note under the table.

"It says here to 'state a purpose, not run down a whole list of facts!'"

Courtney sadly shook her head at Tanya. "The blind leading the blind," she remarked.

I felt a sharp sensation rush through my skin when she said that, remembering how I had looked up to her not long ago.

"How are you going to state your purpose with no facts, huh?" she argued. "How about that?"

"You have to state it first." Tanya threw back at her. "Then look for your facts to put in."

I tried aiming the note again behind Tanya's back.

"Look," Courtney said, getting up. "I've had it with your crazy short cuts. Either we do this my way or forget studying together!" She thrust her books into her backpack.

While she was bent over, I flung the balled note hard at Janot. It passed the top of her head and flew out the open window behind her.

Cheri lowered her head on the table and started to shake with laughter. Janot hadn't noticed a thing. I sighed and got ready to tear another piece of paper when I noticed that because of all the paper and books on the table, I couldn't see the floor through the glass top. I rolled my eyes toward Tanya's back, and flipped my pen up in the air to look like an accident. It landed by Courtney's feet.

Tanya, still arguing, picked up the pen and placed it on the table. I frowned at her and then dropped my assignment pad. I bent down and went under the table, shaded by the papers and books, and wrote another note. I tapped Janot on the knee and held the note up in her lap.

A book was suddenly moved and a circle of light shown through the table to the floor. I looked up, but a sheet of paper still covered me in my tracks. I slithered back up into my chair and saw a small grin form on Janot's face.

We all leaned back and relaxed. It was agreed.

"All right, I'll prove it," Courtney said. They both stopped arguing and the tips of their pencils started wiggling fiercely above the table, when the whistling sound returned.

We gazed over at Trevor who lay flat, dozing, out on the couch.

"So it just goes on and off like that?" Tanya asked Janot.

Ignoring her question, Janot, Cheri, and I buried our heads into our books.

I called Cheri again that night for more tips. I wrote down everything she told me: scan over all work first to get an idea where it's going; make a question outline to know what to look for; use signposts, like chapter titles, section headings, table of content, which stick out; mark down important points that are underlined, printed in italics, or otherwise presented in an unusual way.

I could find a million ways to study but it wasn't something hard, just a lot of work. Cheri suggested some books in the library on how to study. When I got off the phone, I packed my library card inside my book bag and looked at my new notes. I smoothed the sheets out and placed them under my pillow so they would be close by. I never wanted to feel that lost again. I figured out that you could study difficult material in the same way you studied the easy assignments. It just took longer to get the answers when the questions were hard.

The following week I finished most of my assignments faster than I had expected, and I didn't even rush through them. Taking my time, I caught on quickly. I had looked at the clock when I finished each subject and was surprised over how fast I had gotten done.

I could've had this work done a long time ago if I hadn't blocked my head with all those doubts. It felt good to be on track for a change.

Jammed with school during the day and homework at night, I thought Friday would never arrive. The first week after report card night was always the hardest, but eventually everybody recovered.

Warm sunshine and the cool breeze caught my attention again. Everything looked so clear in the bright sun. The colors of nature were getting sharp all around. Flowers, birds, and butterflies scattered colors all along the streets. The clear air allowed my view to open up again beyond our neighborhood, except for the fuzzy sky up ahead.

Riding home on the bus, I looked forward to Saturday and Sunday: no teachers for two whole days and all this pent up energy just waiting to burst. So many ideas were buzzing inside my head.

I pictured myself racing Terence's two-wheeler (Kriston broke mine) full speed up and down the street, coasting hills, and feeling the wind against my skin.

Since I wouldn't be able to go to the beach this summer, maybe I could find a lawn sprinkler that would turn the street into an outdoor waterfall. Then I could ride the bike under it.

"A storm's coming," Tanya alerted. "Look."

I smeared my face against the window as we approached Alexandria. Thick, dark, bluish-gray clouds drifted overhead. Branches on trees shook wildly and reached out to the east. Leaves circled the ground in bunches. By the time we reached our stop, flashes arced in the distance.

"Look!" Courtney cried. "A bolt of lightning!"

Wondering if that bolt had hit our school, I glanced up at the clouds.

"I don't see smoke," Tanya said. "I don't think it hit anything."

Stay away from trees. Stay away from trees, my mind kept repeating once I got off the bus.

The soft taps of raindrops slapping against the pavement echoed in my ears.

"It's started; let's go!" Tanya shouted. She hustled down her street while I raced behind Courtney.

Suddenly thunder clapped and every kid outside started running.

I placed my book bag over my head. Cool raindrops ran down the back of my hands and into my sleeves.

"Bye Justine!" Courtney hollered, bursting through her front door.

I skidded to a stop on our front lawn and peered back down the street at Terence, Kriston, and Terell trying to beat the storm home. I went inside and threw my book bag down. This was not how you started a weekend.

By Saturday morning the storm had passed. The night had been wild. I watched the flashes from my bed until they put me to sleep. Mom once said that I could sleep through a hurricane.

I jumped out of bed and went to the bathroom.

Being the only girl in the house besides Mom, I always winded up changing the empty roll of toilet paper. I didn't understand how they used it up so fast. I had decided that I would get my own box of tissues and keep it in my room, just for emergencies.

Boy, there was nothing like being prepared.

I got dressed and scampered downstairs to pop open a can of biscuits. The house was quiet. Birds and katydids chirped outside the window. Somebody's TV set was blaring a cartoon program. I wondered if I would be allowed to watch cartoons over the weekend.

I opened the fridge door and looked inside. The bag of poison ivy was gone. I saw a bowl of sliced fruit in its place. I set it on the kitchen table and grabbed a spoon out of the drawer.

Then my brothers scurried down, plunged into the kitchen, and grabbed four different brands of cereal boxes from the cabinet.

"How come you like that junk?" Terell asked me.

"'Cause it's good for you," I said.

"Yeah?" Tyrone said. "Well let me get some." He waved his spoon in my direction.

I knocked it away before it touched my bowl and accidentally flung an orange slice across the table.

I sneered at Tyrone. "Why do you have to be so stupid?" I grumbled with a mouthful.

"I'm ya' brothaaa!"

I snatched a sponge off the cabinet.

"Hey," Pop announced, rushing in. "Your Mom's still not feeling right, so I'm taking her to the doctor. The morning is yours, but-" he hesitated, "when I come back, the finished schoolwork comes out. Is that clear?"

"Yes," we chorused.

With a look of warning, he left the kitchen.

"Hey Pop," I called, chasing after him. "Will you be gone long?"

"Probably an hour or so," he said, arranging his wallet.

Even if it was only to the hospital, I could pretend that I was going someplace fun. At least it would be a change from being stuck in the house and school all week.

"Can I come?"

"Baby you'd be bored all morning." He brushed my cheek. "Besides, you think I'd leave them alone in here again after the stunt they tried to pull?" he asked, pointing toward the basement.

"What stunt was that?"

"Never mind," he said, clumping up the stairs.

I strolled back into the kitchen. I washed my bowl out and set it on the drainer. I turned the hot water off and ran my hands under cold flowing water, which poured out in one smooth motion, not like the lawn sprinklers showering droplets everywhere.

The water faucet would become a refreshment for me, connecting the kitchen to an ocean of cool, clean running water, splashing its way into the sink. And the refrigerator, with its ice cold drinks and snacks waiting, would provide the prize of the summer kitchen, as the stove provided the prize of the winter.

I turned the water off and went up to my room, flinging the last of the cool drops onto my face.

I straightened the finished homework papers on my desk, stacked them inside my binder, and opened my bedroom window wider, so I could clearly hear the birds chirping in the bushes down below. Butterflies floated from dandelion to dandelion alongside the house.

I turned toward my dresser. I opened the bottom drawer and rummaged through the folded clothes. I pulled out my bathing suit and laid it on top of my winter blouses.

I fished for my favorite terry cloth shorts and top that Mom made for me and tried them on to make sure they still fit. They felt a little tight but I would not tell Mom.

I folded them and placed them back in the bureau. Then I went through all my drawers and moved all my summer clothes up to the top. The corner of my closet was already cleared for my book bag and school jumper. I opened the closet door and pulled all my summer outfits to the front and placed all my winter clothes in back.

Later, when my friends came over, we sat on the front steps eating ice cream. Occasionally, a warm breeze rushed past, stirring the bushes in front of the house.

"I can't wait till summer school's over," Courtney said, dripping chocolate ice cream onto the pavement.

Ants were scurrying to retrieve it.

"Yeah," Tanya agreed. "The only good thing about regular school is when all the holidays come."

Cheri sighed. "I miss Christmas," she said. "Decorating the tree and making fancy cookies."

"I like Halloween," Tanya said, taking a bite out of her cone. "Spooking people out."

"My favorite is Thanksgiving," Cheri said, licking honey vanilla off the tip of her thumb. "That's the start of the whole Christmas season. Everybody's so bright and cheery."

"Which one is your favorite, Justine?" Janot asked.

"The one I'm celebrating whenever Mom stops having all these babies," I muttered as I watched Terell, racing away from Clarence, bust up what was left of my skates.

"Did you talk to them about your assignment?" Tanya asked.

"Nope."

"What're you waiting for?"

"What if they had a perfectly good reason for having so many kids?" I asked. "How can I prove it to Sister Bernadette if I can't even prove it to myself?"

"Maybe you should write it another way," Cheri said.

"Like how?"

"How about the way you feel about having a new baby," she said. "You've already had plenty of practice."

I finished eating my vanilla ice cream and thought about her suggestion. How did I feel about the new baby?

"Can you see yourself as a mom?" Courtney asked, finishing the last of her cone.

"I don't think so," Cheri replied.

"Can you see yourself getting married?" Courtney challenged, brushing crumbs off her hands.

Everybody, except Tanya, stared at her.

"For what?" I asked. "I already live with married people."

"Sometimes I like to pretend," Janot said.

"Me too," Trevor added.

"I wonder what makes people fall in love," Cheri wondered, gazing into the sky.

Waiting for an answer, the rest of us looked at Tanya.

She didn't notice.

"I sure would like to know why some girl would marry my brother," Courtney remarked.

Watching mine chase each other in the middle of the street, I sighed and went into the house.

How did I feel about the new baby? Whose room would he be staying in? Kriston and Terell's or Austin's? Who would he get along with the most? Would he get along with me?

I headed for the kitchen and saw Mom bent over in the refrigerator. "Are you still going to the hospital?" I asked her.

"You see me dressed don't you!" she snapped and slammed the door.

Stunned, I jumped back and watched her rip open a can of sardines.

Oh no, she was in her mood swings again. Every time she reached her last month, she got excited and short-tempered. Because that baby was so late in coming, I guessed she was upset about still being pregnant.

She stormed out of the kitchen and knocked Tyrone aside as she passed him in the hall.

"I love you too, Mommy," he sang out, watching her wobble. He glided into the kitchen and grabbed a can of soda out the fridge.

I wandered down the hall and into Pop's den.

Crouched behind his desk, he heard me coming and raised his head. "Hey baby," he said. "You see my address book anywhere?"

"No," I grumbled. "You ask Mom?"

Smiling, "Come here," he said and wrapped me in his arm. "Just be patient."

I sighed.

"Look," he said, "Your brothers invited some friends over from school to get an early start on a science project they're planning for next year." Notice how he called them "your brothers" and not "my sons"?

I glared. "Why would you—"

He placed his hand over my mouth. "This is an important project they need to spend plenty of time researching. They won't have any time left over to nag you."

After the mess they created last time, how could he think to leave them alone again? Even if it was for a school project.

"Oomph," I mumbled, and he moved his hand away. "Will you help me with my English assignment?" I asked. "It's my composition, remember? Could I ride with you and Mom and we could work on it in the van? It's real important!"

"You have all your material ready?"

I rubbed my chin. "All my stuff is upstairs."

"Get everything ready and we'll work on it as soon as I get back, okay, sweets?" He kissed my cheek and sent me off.

I sighed, following the sound of screeching kids back outside, and wondered how this situation was going to turn out. My brothers couldn't handle being by themselves. Didn't my parents know this yet? Terell had somehow already punched a hole in the basement step; the huskies wound up loose in the living room; and Pop didn't trust Tyrone in the kitchen. What more would it take for Mom and Pop to figure out that they were trouble?

All this time I had been doing great, keeping up with my studies, not getting into trouble with Tanya, and now my parents had to pull this. I'd probably get blamed for everything again.

"They're bringing the crew over," I said, squatting beside Courtney and Janot on the front steps.

"Who?" Cheri asked.

"My brothers."

Just then Tyrone sprinted out of the house, leaped over our heads, and dashed up the street.

"Why?" Cheri asked.

"To bug me." I sighed. "Who's staying?" I asked, doubtful.

They looked at me as if I was crazy.

"Oh come on!" I pleaded. "You know I can't leave my room unguarded." I waited. "I don't have locks on my door." I raised my hand at the house. "And you've seen what already happened."

"Look," Janot started, "I'm sorry, but I'm not going through any more with your dingbats."

"My dingbats got friends coming," I tried to explain.

"Sooo whaaat?" she fired off. "You think their friends are any better?"

I stayed quiet, because I suddenly remembered: The one time Janot stayed overnight at my house, she was carried up to our attic while she was still rolled up in her covers. Everybody knew that when Janot slept she was dead to the world, even more than I was.

I woke up, or rather she woke us up in the morning as she screamed from the roll-away bed to which the boys had tied her. She hadn't slept over at my house ever since even though the incident had happened years ago.

"Okay." Hopeful, I turned to Cheri. "What about you?"

She cocked her head at me and wrinkled both eyebrows.

I couldn't believe they were deserting me like this.

"I'll stay," Courtney said.

"So will I," Tanya added.

Cheri glared at each one of us. "O-kay, I'll stay."

"I'll stay too," Trevor said.

Janot got up quietly and walked away.

"Humph," Tanya chuckled. "I guess that's that." She jumped to her feet. "What have you got to eat?" she asked me.

"Don't know," I told her.

We paraded toward the kitchen.

Through the living room window I could see my parents getting into the van. I waved, but they didn't see me.

In the kitchen, Tanya rearranged the fridge and found a plate of cold cuts. "Who wants some?" she asked.

"Not me," Courtney said. "I don't eat loose meat."

"I'm surprised it's in there," Cheri said, "with your brothers around."

"Maybe your mom has it," Courtney told me. "You know, being pregnant."

After I had grabbed five cans of soda off the shelf, Tanya placed it back inside and shut the door. I pulled a box of crackers out from the cabinet. Our mouths then got busy.

"Hey, you guys, listen," Cheri said.

"To what?" Tanya said. "I don't hear anything."

"That's what I mean," Cheri said. "Where'd everybody go?"

We glanced around the dinette. No yelling, no loud scrapes against the sidewalk, no balls hitting the pavement or somebody's window, no dogs barking.

I shuddered. The trouble was starting already, and this time Clarence was with them. I stared at the ceiling, waiting for the roof to cave in or the house to explode. Then I looked over at the dinette window.

A neighborhood full of kids was not supposed to be quiet unless somebody, or everybody, was up to something.

"Justine," Cheri cried. "That's it. I'm ducking out in the basement." She snatched five crackers off the table and left.

The rest of us waited. Then I clutched the box, Trevor's hand, and swooped toward the basement.

After everybody was in the staircase, I shut the door and ran my fingers along the wall. "Somebody go down and pull the light switch," I said.

"SHHH!" they told me.

Frowning, I squatted on the steps and bit into another cracker.

"SHHH!" they told me again.

I hunched over, still holding Trevor's hand, and listened. Was the front door locked? If it was, the only thing left for them to destroy would have been the neighborhood, and nobody could hold me responsible for that.

All of a sudden, footsteps started tapping lightly above the ceiling.

My heart pounded.

Just then sneakers squeaked by and shadows bobbed underneath the basement door. I was still trying to remember if the front door was locked when suddenly the door in front of me slowly cracked open.

I picked Trevor up and stepped down into the darkness.

Chapter 9

A short, stubby shadow with no neck blocked the doorway. It raised its arms and started wailing, "Aaaaaarrgh!"

Then another one appeared. "Wuuuuuoooo!" he cried, following his leader. One-by-one Clarence and his friends moaned and flailed their way down into the basement. One kid backed me against the wall.

Still holding Trevor's hand, I waited for them to pass into the big empty cellar before I climbed back up the steps. I shook my head. They were an insult to real ghosts.

Then I thought: Why should I let them get away with this?

I gripped the door handle and waved at my friends to follow. They did and I snapped the lock.

"Aaaarrr-ey! Hey! Who locked the door? Tyrone? Kriston? Open the door man. I'm scared of the dark!"

I leaned hard on the door to keep Clarence in the basement. "Make sure none of my brothers are coming," I warned the others.

Cheri's face went pale. "I thought they were already in there!"

I squinted at her. "When they pull a prank they don't pull a stupid one!" I pointed.

Cheri's whole body twisted and she was heading straight for the front door when Terence swung it wide open and glided in with Tyrone. Then she bolted up the staircase.

"Hey!" Clarence hollered, banging on the door. "Let me out!"

I let them both get as close as the kitchen doorway.

"Don't!" I warned.

They froze in their tracks and looked at me.

I shook my head. "I'm not getting blamed again." I braced harder against the door.

They kept looking at me.

I raised my eyebrows. "You want Pop to come in here and see this?" I challenged.

Now they looked at each other.

"You can't keep him locked up in there like that," Terence said.

I glared at him. "Who told him to go down there in the first place? Why couldn't he stay outside?"

"We're just playing a game," Tyrone said, innocently.

"Well, so am I," I jeered.

He moved a little closer. I swung my leg at him. "Get away from me!" The blood started rushing to my head.

"What're you getting so worked up for?" Terence said.

"Because I'm not getting into any more trouble thanks to him." I brushed my cheek against my shoulder to soak up the sweat.

"Nobody's getting you into any trouble," Tyrone said, making another move toward me.

I aimed my foot at him again. "Are you going to get him out of here?" I asked.

They looked out the corner of their eyes at each other. "Sure," they promised.

I glared at them. "Don't give me that!" I snapped. "I want him out of here before he sells more poison ivy or puts another hole in the step. How am I supposed to explain that kind of stuff?"

"She won't say nothing!" Clarence yelled. "Your parents wouldn't believe her anyway. She's got no proof. It's her word against ours, and besides, you told your folks that we were working on our science project. How can we work if she's got me locked up in the basement?"

Cheri's head leaned over the banister. Terence and Tyrone didn't move.

"She already flunked school," Clarence continued. "All she wants is for us to flunk so we can be left back too. You think they'll believe her now?"

My cheeks burned inside.

"You wait and see, when we graduate college, she'll still be stuck in fifth grade." His laugh echoed through the door. "Who knows if she'll ever make it out of grammar school." The others were laughing in there with him. "You better ask the nuns to pray your pop lives forever so he can support you the rest of your life."

I stared at the basement door, his honking laugh pounding my eardrums. I banged it hard with my fist and then sprinted out into the backyard.

"Get down, get down!" I hollered, brushing thick dirty paws off my shirt. "Sit, sit!"

They wouldn't listen. King tried to slobber me with kisses. Precious nibbled at the seat of my pants. "Will you sit?"

Then, through an open window, I heard Clarence yell out, "Where's her bedroom? Man, I'll fix her!"

I rushed back inside and saw him rubbing his right ear. "Stay away from my room," I warned him.

What was I doing?

I dashed into the living room and suddenly the place was in an uproar again.

Kids scattered, my brothers on a manhunt and Clarence craving revenge. Barks, crashes, and outbursts resounded throughout the entire house.

Later, hiding under my bed, I watched the top landing outside the door to see if Clarence would show up.

I was steaming.

What did he care about some science project? All he wanted to do was make trouble. I wasn't the one preventing him from doing his work: he had come down into that basement on his own. If they really wanted to start their project, they would have started before Clarence started teasing us.

I pressed my chin against the floor.

His words really bothered me. Would my parents believe him? Would everybody leave me for sixth grade? Did I want to spend another year in fifth grade, this time with Terence? They'd have to put me in another school. Brothers and sisters couldn't stay in the same classroom. Everyone would leave me then. I didn't want to go through the same class over and over again with a whole new bunch of different students every year. I wanted to go to new classes with my friends every year.

I saw two small feet pass by so I called out to them.

Trevor bent down, smiled, and crawled under to join me, but then somebody grabbed him by his sneakers and pulled him out, screaming.

I stuck my head out and watched Terence carry Trevor, who was still screaming, out the door. I braced my foot against the bedpost and pushed myself halfway out.

Tyrone landed right on my back. "I was waiting for you up here," he cackled, lugging me downstairs. He dropped me in front of the couch, keeping a firm grip on my shoulders.

I watched everybody run from everybody until the moment had come. Clarence saw me and was coming after me.

Tyrone tightened his grip.

"Eeny meeny miney mo," Clarence said, strutting over. "Who will be the first to go?" His hands were hidden behind his back. "So, thought you were slick, didn't you?" His beady little eyes were steadily watching me. "Lockin' Clarence up in the basement."

"Can I get in on this?" a kid asked.

"No!" Clarence stated. "Let's see how slick you are now," he told me. Slowly, he raised his arms from behind his back.

I broke loose, kicked Tyrone in the knee, and leaped up the staircase, and straight into Terence who was coming down. He brought me back downstairs.

"Don't let the prisoners escape," Clarence instructed. Four other boys pulled Courtney and Cheri into the living room and dropped them in front of the couch, our jail cell, beside me.

"Keep them together," Clarence ordered. "We'll pack them all in at once."

"That's not how it's done," Courtney argued, getting back up.

"You're supposed to put everybody in their own separate cell. You can't crowd them all in one place."

"I can if it's my cell," Clarence threw at her.

"But that's not how it's done," Courtney disputed, resting both hands on her hips in authority.

Clarence closed in on her. "Who's running this jailhouse?" he demanded as the others banded behind him, giving support.

Courtney lips didn't move again. She sat back down.

"How long should we keep them here?" a boy asked.

"For the rest of their lives," Clarence snickered.

"You got the rope?"

"Right here." Gloating, Clarence shook out a clothesline.

Just then I stood up and put my ear to the hallway. "I hear Pop," I announced.

Everybody went bug-eyed scanning the windows while I flew back upstairs.

The second race was on, and I was ahead of the game. And Clarence thought he was so smart.

This time I hid in the attic beside a window that faced the driveway. Twenty seconds later a van pulled up. I took a peep.

Oooh no! It was Pop!

I snuck down to the second floor and flattened myself across the landing. I peeked over the rim.

The door opened and Pop walked in. "Hey, hey, hey, HEY, HEY!" he hollered. He placed Mom outside and grabbed the first kid running. "What is the problem?"

Wide-eyed and breathing hard, the whole herd showed up.

Pop searched heads. He wasn't fooled, he knew exactly who was missing. "Justine!" he bellowed.

I ducked my head. I was not ready for this.

Just then I heard the patter of feet behind me. I looked back and saw Austin coming out of his room, rubbing his eyes. He stood beside me on the landing.

"Austin," I heard Pop call, "where's your sister?"

Austin pointed.

I backed away from the landing once I saw hair rising, then a forehead, then eyebrows, then a pair of eyes.

I braced against the wall.

"Hey Pop, Mom wants you!" Kriston blared. "She thinks it's time!"

Pop came to a sudden halt and twitched one cheek. Then he tumbled backwards, grabbing the banister.

"Dad!" I screamed, following him down the stairs. He missed four steps but landed on his feet. He had a firm grip on the banister.

"Dad, are you all right?" Terence asked, grabbing him by the shoulder. Everybody circled around him.

"Yeah, fine," he said, sitting on the steps.

"Justin, honey!" Mom exclaimed, clutching his other shoulder.

Pop waved his hand at her like it was nothing. "What were you all doing running around the house?" he inquired. "Didn't I tell you before to stop that? Why do I have to keep repeating myself? This house is not a place for you to act like animals."

He was fine.

I wrapped my arms around his waist as he got up.

"I'm not telling you again," he continued. "The next time I catch you running around like that, you'll find your things out in the backyard with the mutts!" Then he looked at Clarence and quietly pointed a finger to the door.

Clarence inched sideways and slithered out of the house.

Pop led Mom out to the van. After she got in, Pop closed the door and went around to the driver's side. He started the engine, then he backed the van out the driveway.

I watched it disappear down the road.

I sighed.

How could he be so calm taking Mom to the hospital and yet still lose everything when he had to deal with us?

"We better go back inside," Tanya suggested, leading the way.

Clarence leaped out from a bush. "Is he gone?" he asked, scanning the road.

"Yeah," Tyrone said. My brothers and the rest of them invaded the living room. The others followed me up the stairs.

"Boy, look at the dent your father left," Courtney said, pointing at the step where he had landed. The center of it did sink in a little.

I dropped my rear end on the top landing and lay my head on my knees.

Cheri sat beside me. "Don't worry, Justine, he's fine," she told me. "You know anybody else who can just get up like that and drive their wife to the hospital to have a baby?"

"Be glad the stairs didn't break," Tanya said, which reminded me of the hole in the basement

I sighed. "What was that crash?"

Everyone looked at each other.

"What crash?" Tanya asked.

"I heard crashes in here somewhere. What happened?"

She shrugged. "I didn't hear any crash."

I sighed again. That was all I needed, another secret disaster hiding somewhere, waiting to be discovered.

"Whatever happened to your washing machine?" I asked Cheri.

"It died," she told me. "Mom got the insurance for a new one. She loves it."

"Did she ever find out about the flood?" I asked.

She shook her head no.

Tanya scooped Kriston's basketball off the floor and started dribbling.

"We're not allowed to do that in the house," I told her.

"How about if we roll it?" Tanya asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Are there any more balls in here?" she asked. "We can play race the balls back and forth, without bouncing, and whoever lets their ball go past, loses."

"Oh yeah," Courtney said. "I know that game."

They ran into the bedrooms to collect balls. I didn't think this was a good idea.

"You see, we sit in a big circle," Tanya explained, "and we roll the balls back and forth at each other like we're playing catch; only, we can't throw."

The others came back loaded with baseballs, foam balls, ping-pong balls, and golf balls.

"What if you break something?" I asked, starting to worry again.

"We'll only use the soft balls," Tanya said.

Courtney and I sat at one end of the hallway and Tanya and Cheri sat at the other. Tanya spun a lime green baseball towards me and at the same time sent the foam ball to Courtney. We rolled them back and got socked with a Ping-Pong ball and a golf ball. We kept rolling balls back at each other and tried not to let any go past. I didn't want the balls to bump into the furniture.

We were getting better at it, and I stopped feeling nervous. Then Courtney missed a foam ball, and I flinched as she chased it down the stairs.

"Wait!" Cheri shrieked, laughing hard. "She lost her partner!"

"I guess this isn't so bad," I said to Tanya. Our first and only ball game for the summer.

I lay back and stared down the hall, getting an upside-down view of Austin's bedroom. "Hey look at this," I said. "Upside-down this looks like it could be another house."

I felt the vibration as their backs hit the floor.

"We're walking on the ceiling," Cheri said.

"Hey you know how the rooms look when you see them through a mirror?" Tanya asked. "Like someone could really be living there except they're in another room and that's why you can't see them?" She sat up straight. "Sister said something about dimensions. Do you think she was talking about that?"

"Hey Justine, come down here a minute!" Terence's muffled voice called out

The rest of us hopped up and scampered down to the living room where they were crowded around the TV set watching some science-fiction movie.

"You had Sister Flynn for science, right?" Terence asked me.

"Yeah."

"How'd she grade those projects you did?"

"By whoever was most scientifically creative," I said, sitting on the arm of the couch.

"What kind of stuff did you hand in?" Terence asked.

I thought hard. "One kid did a small platform of a bunch of prisms reflecting the electromagnetic spectrum," I explained. "Another one cross-bred chromosomes in plants. Another one did an arrangement of bonds and atoms. And another one did a plastic polypeptide chain." Whoa! Did that come out of my mouth?

"What did you do?" a kid asked me.

"I think I did a solar system with—"

"She drew the planet earth," Tyrone cut in.

I glared at him. He grinned.

"I'll make you a deal," offered another kid who I didn't even know. "I'll pay you two dollars to do my science project."

I glimpsed over at Terell.

"Don't do that to her," Tyrone pleaded.

The girls smiled, but I waited for him to hit me good.

"You know she can't even remember which planet she's living on." He came through too.

Clarence laughed the hardest. Courtney flung a pillow at him.

I got up, walked to the other side of the room and selected from the row of encyclopedias on the bookshelf. I carried five back to the couch.

I browsed through a couple of pages, catching titles of certain subjects. "What do you know about constellations?"

I asked the kid.

"Nothing," he said. "They're stars, right?"

I took a look at him. Was he serious or was this another prank?

"What do you know about photosynthesis?"

"Is that something with a camera?"

I looked at the others; blank faces everywhere.

I skimmed through some more. "What about DNA?"

He paused, shaking a finger at me. "That stands for something, doesn't it?"

Clarence hugged his face into the pillow and laughed some more.

Maybe I wasn't as bad off in the brain department as I had thought. "Natural Selection?"

The kid waited, rotating his hand. "A natural selection of what?"

One more time. I flipped through the last encyclopedia, ran my finger down the page, and looked him dead in the face. "Bugs."

"Oh yeah!" he sang out. High fives went up all over the place. "Now we're getting somewhere."

Courtney asked him, "Are you trying to get your parents to buy you a pet?"

Everyone stopped laughing and looked at her.

"No," he said. "I just figured that's a good idea for a science project is all." He smirked at Tyrone and Clarence.

"Well, if you think your parents are going to let you have bugs as pets, you're crazy." Courtney explained. "You know how much money it costs to have an exterminator come every year? And all those pesticides the city puts in trees?" She looked at him even harder. "You can't start a bug farm here. This is a residential area."

Clarence glared at Courtney and whispered something to the others. They all had weird looks on their faces.

Tanya leaned over. "What are they whispering about?" she whispered.

"Maybe they're planning to get the school involved because it's a science project," Cheri said. "So that they can prove it's educational for them to have a bug farm."

"Oh there's nothing that can be penetrated into their tiny little brains," Courtney said. "They're just pretending."

I glanced through the book some more. "So how about the nervous system?"

He wouldn't answer.

I raised my head. "Well, what do you want to do?"

He shrugged. "Think about it, I guess."

"I think that's the reason why they make us do this in the first place," Courtney commented just as the phone rang.

I hopped up to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hey baby!" Pop called. "Your little sister's here."

"My sister?" I said. "I have a sister?" I felt the tip of my ears tingle and my stomach sink in. And already it was my little sister. "What's her name?"

"Doreen, after your grandma," he said. "How are your brothers coming with that project?"

"Fine," I told him. "We decided on the nervous system."

"We?"

"I mean they," I hurried. "When are you coming home?"

"I'll be there soon, baby," he said. "Your mom did all the work but she wants me to go home and rest."

"Kiss her for me," I said. "Bye Daddy."

"I'll do that. Bye."

I placed the receiver down and sauntered back into the living room. I actually had a sister. I couldn't believe it.

"Doreen's here," I announced.

"Who's Doreen?" Tyrone asked.

"Our little sister." I flopped down on the couch, feeling strange inside.

"A sister?" Clarence said, disgusted. "You've got another sister?" he asked my brothers and shook his head. "Wait till she sees what she's coming home to."

I sneered at him. "You shut up."

My brothers sat quietly staring at me with a strange look in their eyes and small grins on their faces. Then, I realized that Doreen would be moving into my room.

"Did you ask him about your composition?" Cheri questioned.

"Oh no!" I jumped up. "I told him I'd be ready when he got back." I ran up to my room and looked around. I gathered my notebook, assignment pad and pen, and ran downstairs to wait for him out front.

The sun had already set. Its brightness was covered by a glowing blanket of blue that surrounded the early evening sky.

"What paper is this?" Terence asked as the rest of them sat around the front steps.

"I have to do a composition on some topic for English."

"A topic on what?" he asked, leaning over my shoulder.

"Something that's important to me," I told him. "I'm doing mine on our family."

"Why'd you pick that?"

I squeezed my pen. "If you ask me another question . . ."

"All right, all right, all right," he responded, but he still looked at me funny.

Suddenly a horn tooted and Pop drove up to the house. Clarence swooped below the trees into the neighbor's yard. Everyone else backed away as Pop got out of the van.

"See you later, Justine," Tanya said, walking down the sidewalk.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"Home," she said and hurried off.

"Bye, Justine," Courtney whispered and snuck inside her house.

The rest of them spread out, each one down his or her own block. "How's my best girl?" Pop asked, leaning his foot against the steps. "Ready to begin?" His face had a strange glow as he stood there staring at me.

"How you doing, Pop?" Tyrone asked, resting his hand on Pop's shoulder.

"Fine," Pop told him. "Why?"

Shaking his head he said, "No reason. It's just that you don't usually come home looking like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that." Tyrone pointed at his gleaming expression.

"You boys go in the house," Pop told them. "Get dinner out of the fridge. Except you, Tyrone." He sat down beside me. "All right, what's this assignment?"

Suddenly I was speechless. I couldn't think of a thing to say. My stomach and my head were both acting funny. I felt pricks all over my skin. I had started to believe the worst might be true.

What if Clarence was right? I didn't want everybody to leave me in the fifth grade. What was I going to do? We could not study together. Everybody always had a different solution, and when no one's solution worked, we could never figure out the correct answer.

My solid ground felt soggy. I felt that I would sink right through the front lawn, but something was still holding me up. What if my friends made it to the sixth grade and I did wind up stuck behind? I almost wanted to fall through the ground and disappear, but something wouldn't let me. I felt like being quiet, waiting for this feeling to end, but Pop wanted an answer.

He still looked confident; would he ever understand how I felt? "I have to do a composition on why my family is important to me." I clicked my pen. "And how I feel about the new baby."

"I wanted to talk to you about that," he said, pocketing his sunglasses. "It won't be the same as having another brother, you know. She'll be in your room, which means you get a little more responsibility. Are you sure you'll be able to handle that?"

I shrugged. "I guess so." I wasn't sure I could handle anything anymore, but I couldn't tell him that.

"It won't be easy having a baby share the same room with you," he said. "You won't have much time to yourself anymore. Your mom feels it would be good for you because this way you won't be in your room by yourself all the time."

But I liked being in my room by myself.

"You've got to do the big sister role one more time," Pop said, holding my hand. Now he had a serious, worried look on his face. "Doreen isn't used to us yet; we'll have to be sensitive about that. She'll probably cry a lot. You think you'll be able to handle that?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I told him. I stared down at the ground, wondering what I was being forced into this time.

"Pop," I mumbled. "If I don't pass the fifth grade, does that mean I'll be stuck in grammar school forever?"

"No." He shook his head. "You'll just have to take it over again next year."

I cringed. Then I'd have to go to another school, everybody would leave me. What was the point of trying anything if the same old challenge was waiting to knock me down?

I dropped my chin into the palm of my hand.

"When Clarence graduates from college—"

"What college?" Pop interrupted. "He can't make it through the third grade and already you've got him graduating from college." He looked at me. "Why are you worrying about him? What has he got to do with anything? His grades don't affect you. Never mind about Clarence, worry about your own work." Pop roughly brushed blades of grass off the leg of his pants.

I heard the bushes shake behind me. I looked but Clarence wasn't there.

I leaned my head on top of my knees. Clarence had broadcasted all my business to everybody, trying to prove that I wasn't good enough, but he never once mentioned his own bad grades. Why did I ever believe anything Clarence said?

That was it. No more sharing study secrets. The less anyone knew about my business, the better off I was.

I felt a little confidence coming back and I was glad. All my homework had been done in no time. My room was straightened out neatly, and all my clothes were organized. With the little bit of studying I had left to do maybe, just maybe, I would have some time for summer. What could go wrong now? Clarence, that's what.

"Why does he keep saying things to upset me?" I asked.

"Who?"

"Clarence," I told him.

Pop gazed down the road. "He doesn't have anything else to do."

"Does that go for Tyrone too?"

"That's different."

I looked up at him. "Why's that different?"

"Tyrone's your brother," he said. "And you're a part of each other's lives whether you like it or not."

"I never said I didn't like it," I pointed out. "All I said was I get tired of them bugging me. It's like a disease with them, especially Tyrone."

"Is that why you hit him?" Pop asked.

"Well, he got on my nerves."

"But you didn't have to hit him."

I couldn't think up a good response to Pop's reasoning.

"Out of all the teasing, nagging, hassling, pestering, and annoyances they spring on you day after day after day, has any one of them ever hit you?" he asked.

I shook my head no.

"Do you know why?"

"No," I mumbled.

"Because as impossible as it may seem, they do love you."

I watched his lips curve into a smile. "How are they showing this love for me?"

"Anything they can do to get your attention, they will try at least once, and if it works they'll keep on doing it."

"Well, why can't they find some other way to get my attention?"

"Because they know this one works."

"So then what am I supposed to do?"

"Ignore them," he said. "Don't pay them any mind. Let Tyrone ramble off at the mouth, and when he sees he can't upset you, he'll get bored and move on to something else." He tossed a beetle off his sneaker.

I never thought of it that way. "And if that doesn't work, can I come back to you?" I asked.

"Baby you can come to me anytime," he said. "Anytime! If you have a problem or want to talk." He brushed my cheek. "My first baby girl!" he asserted. "I watched your mom holding Doreen today and it reminded me so much of the day you were born."

A tingle ran up my spine as I watched a tear form in his right eye.

"Some nights I used to come home and find the two of you in our room, you on the bed smiling pretty and getting tickled. Your mom loving every minute of it, and I knew I was home." He stared at me. "I was home."

I felt my chin quiver. Embarrassed, I looked away a minute so it would stop. "Don't you think that's a bit much for a bunch of fifth-graders?" I asked him.

He laughed and hugged me. I hugged him back.

"Your Grandma Doreen wanted to take you home and keep you forever," he said.

"You didn't think to give her Tyrone?"

"We did."

I waited for him to finish. "What happened?"

"She gave him back an hour later."

Our eyes locked and we burst out laughing. I laughed as we went inside.

Chapter 10

Homework done hours ago and Clarence long gone the six of us sat in front of the TV set Wednesday night and waited for Pop's return from the hospital.

When I handed in my composition on Monday, I felt a whole lot better. My brain wasn't empty like it had been on report card night. I had new things to think about; and that made the things I usually liked to think about even better. My private thoughts weren't alone anymore, they had company.

I wouldn't be alone in my room anymore either, not after Doreen moved in. Pop had said that it was important that we were sensitive to Doreen not being used to us, so I wrote about her in my composition.

It must have been scary and confusing for a baby to see its family for the first time. She probably couldn't see yet, anyway.

I rearranged my room, so it was ready for anything. I cleaned and straightened out my desk and closet. I put all my textbooks and old assignments under the bed. I shredded and threw away the fake math work, so no one would know about it, and on my old test papers, I wrote the correct answers next to the wrong ones.

At nine o'clock I carried Austin up to bed. On my way back downstairs, I heard Pop coming in. "You have everything ready for school tomorrow?" he asked, locking the door.

"Yes," we chorused as I dropped on the couch.

"Mom sends her love," he said.

"When's she coming home?" Kriston asked.

"They'll be home Friday," Pop said, turning off the TV set. "Get ready for bed. Justine, I need to speak to you."

I felt everyone's eyes watching me as I followed Pop into his den. What did I do now?

He shut the door and sat on the edge of his desk.

"Do you remember when Tyrone had his vaccination shots?" he asked. "Didn't Mom take you with him?"

"Yeah," I told him. Tyrone had let out a high-pitched scream that day. I would have never thought a baby could sound so loud, but Tyrone proved me wrong. "Why?" I asked.

"I can't find any of Terell's vaccination records, and Darrick doesn't remember giving him shots." Pop rubbed his chin with the tips of his fingers. "But you do remember going with him to the doctor?"

I nodded, gasped, and my whole body stiffened.

My Uncle Darrick was a doctor, a pediatrician, which meant he was hated by every kid on this block. Because he was our pediatrician, we wanted nothing to do with him either. He worked in the medical center connected to Mom's hospital.

"Might have to take him down there when I pick your mom up," he said and then the phone rang. "Hello . . . Hey Dar . . . No I can't find anything . . . Yeah, I was thinking—"

I was gone. I ran up the staircase in hot pursuit for Terence and Tyrone. "Hey!" I shrieked, bursting into their bedroom. "Terell's in it bad this time!"

"Why'd you say that?" Terence asked.

"Pop just told me they forgot to give him his vaccination shots when he was a baby."

"So?" Tyrone asked.

I stared at him. "So? They're going to give it to him now!"

All at once, their eyeballs swung to the door where Terell was standing rigidly.

"Don't let them get me!" he begged. "Don't let them get me!"

I ran over and wrapped him in my arms.

"Please don't let them get me!"

"Shhh, Pop will hear you." I pulled him in and shut the door.

"What're we going to do?" Tyrone asked.

"I don't know," I said, patting Terell's back.

"How'd they forget something like that?" Tyrone asked.

I shook my head.

Terence hopped over to the door and cracked it open. "Guess who's coming?"

We didn't have to guess. Terence flipped the light switch down and he and Tyrone jumped into their beds. I pushed Terell under Tyrone's bed and ducked under Terence's.

The door opened and two big feet stepped in, circled both beds, and left.

"He kissed me!" I heard Tyrone say in disgust.

"Well he kissed me too!" Terence argued.

I crawled out and looked at the two of them. "He didn't kiss me yet." I ran to the door and peeped down the hall.

Austin's door was partly opened.

I grabbed Terell's hand and dragged him out from under Tyrone's bed. We sprinted to the next bedroom. I tossed Terell in bed and pulled the sheet up to his neck. Leaving a bewildered Kriston in the other bed, I zipped across the hall and into my room. I leaped into bed fully dressed and pulled the sheets up.

My eyes shut as the door opened. I felt Pop's warm breath upon my face and I could smell his aftershave. A hand gently rubbed against my cheek and lips touched my forehead.

Then there was a rustling sound in the distance. With one eye, I peeped over the rim of my sheet at him in front of my old baby crib, which they put back together in the corner of my room.

He clicked the lights out and left. I sat up to pull my sneakers off. I threw them in the corner and unbuckled my shorts.

His sudden footsteps forced me to lie flat again. He reentered my room, placed baby clothes into the crib, and left.

I jumped out of my shorts and shoved them under the mattress.

One more time the door opened and I had to crouch beside the bed in my underwear. He laid a bassinet on top of the clothes and shut the door on his way out.

I crept to the door and watched him enter his bedroom. I waited a few minutes, threw on my pajamas, lined my pillows under the covers to give it a body shape, and snuck back into Terell's room.

I peeled the sheets off and plucked him out the bed. With Kriston carrying a pair of Terell's pajamas, we rushed across the hall.

Terence and Tyrone leaped out of their beds, and we all huddled in a corner behind a heap of laundry-covered toys. Everyone looked at Terell, who was wrapped up in my arms.

"Is this because of the poison ivy?" he asked me.

I shook my head no.

"What're we going to do?" Kriston asked.

"We'll think of something," I told him.

"Yeah, but what?"

"I don't know, but we'll think of something."

Any time we got scared we always felt safer together with our backs against the wall so that nothing could sneak up from behind.

Out the window, through the budding tree branches, I saw a single star twinkling in the dark sky. Quickly, I made a wish, before the star could disappear behind the clouds. I looked down at Terell and leaned my chin on top of his head.

How could something like this happen? We all had worked hard to get some type of order going in our lives, and we were doing so well. I had started to feel really good about school and the new baby. Now everything came crashing down and we didn't even cause it this time. I felt like I was in a daze and this was all a bad dream.

I shook my head again. I didn't get it. What went wrong? How could they not remember giving Terell his shots? I stared at Tyrone's school uniform hanging on the closet door. What was the point of all that hard work at school if you wound up feeling just as miserable at home? I shut my eyes and sighed and eventually we all fell asleep.

***

I was the first to wake up the next morning. The birds had started singing out the window. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clear blue sky outside. Then I counted my sleeping brothers.

Terell's head was on my lap, one foot was on top of Kriston's face. Tyrone was curled under a jacket. Terence was halfway under the bed. Austin was the only one missing.

I stared at Terell's innocent little face, with those puffy brown cheeks, and sighed.

His behind was too tiny to have a needle pressed through it. What if his behind broke?

I kissed his forehead.

Suddenly the bedroom door burst open and Pop stumbled in.

"Where the . . . . I thought I'd gone crazy when I couldn't find you!" he softly ranted. A mountain of wrinkles appeared above his eyebrows. "Well?" he demanded, waiting for an explanation.

I wiggled my toes trying to wake somebody up for support.

Kriston brushed Terell's foot off and rubbed his eyes.

Terence sat up yawning.

Tyrone woke up and raised his head at Pop. "You should've seen it, Pop!" he started. "It was a big ugly thing! It came flying right in Justine's window!"

My mouth fell open. How does he think these things up so fast?

"Get up, get washed," Pop ordered. He lifted Terell, who was still fast asleep, out of my arms.

"Where're you taking him?" I asked accusingly, leaping to my feet.

"To the bathroom." Pop looked at me funny.

Terell's eyes slowly opened. Once he realized who was holding him, he started screaming, "Aaaaaaahh! Justiiiiiiiinneeee!"

Everybody was up! "I'll wash him, I'll wash him!" we all cried out, grabbing Terell's legs.

Confused, Pop finally handed Terell back to me and everyone relaxed.

I ducked around Pop and hurried toward the bathroom. After I pulled Terell's pajamas off, I twisted the faucet handle. Then I grabbed his washcloth and submerged it.

Terell lifted his head up, watching the water flow into the sink. He looked so small and helpless standing there naked.

"Justine," Terence called through the door.

"Yeah?"

He came in. "What're we going to do?" he asked, sitting on the lid of the toilet. "How're we going to get Terell out of this?"

"I don't know," I said, washing Terell's chest and tummy.

A tear seeped from Terell's right eye and was promptly followed by two more.

Tenderly I brushed the cloth against his cheek to catch them. I kissed his forehead.

"Did Pop say any more to you?" Terence asked.

"No," I told him. "And I didn't wait around for a discussion." I patted Terell dry with a towel, led him into his bedroom, gathered his underwear and pants from the drawer, and dressed him. Then I scooped up his miniature backpack and took everything into my room. I sat him on my bed, removed another tear from his cheek, held his chin a moment to stop it from quivering, and threw my uniform on.

"Well you can't hide him," Tanya said as we rode the bus into D.C.

"I know," I said.

"What kind of shots do they use for big kids that are different from babies?" Kriston asked.

"Might be bigger needles," Clarence suggested.

"Will you shut up?" I blasted.

Everybody on the bus stared at me.

I didn't care. I looked down at Terell. I felt worse than if I were getting the shot.

"When was the last time your uncle's been by the house?" Courtney asked me.

I cringed at the thought.

"I don't remember," I said. "We don't stay around much when we know he's coming. The only time we see him is when we're sick and you know what that means."

No more questions came up.

All during school, I kept watching the hall at breaks and peeking into his kindergarten room to see if Terell was all right. He wasn't playing much with the other kids; he just sat quietly at his table and on the floor during storytelling.

I felt the same distance growing between us that I had felt before with Pop and my friends, only this time I was seeing it from the other side. I was worried for Terell's sake.

After school, we didn't rush home. Instead, we hung around D.C. for a while, visiting the monuments, the memorials, and some of the museums.

My favorite was the National Air and Space Museum on Jefferson Drive. I liked the idea of flying, and the museum was fun. Aircraft were suspended from the ceiling. Models of spaceships were built large enough so people could walk through and see all the equipment inside. Sections in the museum really made you feel like you were moving through space. But Terell wasn't having any fun. I held his hand and kept him close to me the whole time.

"Let's hide him in one of the museums!" Kriston said.

"That won't work," I told him. "Who'll take care of him?"

Kriston tapped his chin. "We could sneak food in to him every day?"

"But everybody will still know he's missing," I tried to explain.

We crossed the street and walked into the middle of the Mall. I looked around. I could see plenty of museums on both sides; maybe we could have hidden him in one. But if Pop found out we would have been in more trouble than we were already in for not coming right home after school. It was hopeless.

After our legs grew tired, we headed toward Alexandria. My blouse was drenched and my head was throbbing. I didn't bother to wipe the drops of sweat still running down my face. I felt like crying.

When we reached the house, the van wasn't in the carport. Just to make sure nobody was there, I approached the front door while my brothers waited by the curb. Barks echoed through the back walls as I unlocked the door and peeked inside.

"Dad!" I called, causing their barking to increase.

Soon the noise died down and I didn't hear anybody.

I summoned my brothers.

We changed out of our sweaty uniforms and hung them neatly in our closets, a task Mom had been trying to enforce in us for years. We carried our book bags into the dinette. I turned the chandelier on and we sat at the table and pulled out our schoolwork.

"I know!" Kriston shouted. "If we promise to make him eat a whole lot of fruits and vegetables, maybe he won't have to go. I mean, he made it this far without any shots, so why bother? Look at him, he's healthy."

I watched Terell lean his head against the table in true defeat.

"Yeah, but if he catches something later on, it might make things worse." I said.

Terell turned his head, still on the table, to the side and looked up at me.

As we settled down I looked around at everyone.

Whatever kind of bond it was that brothers and sisters hold, we were holding ours pretty tight tonight.

Chapter 11

Well, Friday had come. We were picking Mom up from the hospital right after school. Pop told us to wait for him in front of the school building. He didn't say anything more about Terell, which worried me. I didn't know what to do: run, hide at Grandma's, what? My head burned searching for answers.

I didn't want to bury any more secrets; they never stayed buried anyway. Everybody eventually found out about everything. I just wanted this shot thing to be over with, so the pain and confusion could be gone and forgotten.

I shook my head. Suddenly, bad thoughts started to pound down on me, trying to take over all the good thoughts. I was suffocating.

How could our parents forget his vaccination shots? What if they made a mistake like that with me? Did they have so much to deal with that the important things began to slip away? What would they forget next?

"Justine," Cheri called, running out the school's front door. "You forgot your composition."

"Oh yeah," I mumbled as she handed me the folded paper.

"Here he comes," Kriston said.

Pop pulled the van up to the curb and I slipped the paper into my backpack's side pocket.

"I'll see you later, okay?" Cheri whispered, patting my shoulder.

I nodded.

"Hi!" Austin hollered, waving from his car seat.

"Hey Austin," I said, climbing aboard.

The rest quietly climbed in behind me and shut the door.

Riding up the avenue, Pop kept glimpsing through the rearview mirror at Terell beside me. My brother had his spring jacket zipped all the way to his neck, even though it was hot outside. I guessed he felt better covering up as much of his skin as he could.

I sighed at Terence; he shrugged. I stared at the bright blue sky out the window, hoping it would make me feel better. But it felt like report card night all over again.

"Terell," Pop called, catching everyone's attention. "You've been worrying about this thing since Monday. Now you know the only way to deal with a problem is to face it head on. Besides, what if you catch the chicken pox or measles or something worse at a later age?"

Terell lowered his head.

"Nothing's as bad as we make it seem," Pop said. "You stop worrying about a thing, and it's over before you know it."

Terell whimpered and leaned against my shoulder.

"You all remember your Uncle Darrick?" Pop asked.

"Yeah," we mumbled. We remembered him well.

"And I bet you never had a complaint about him, did you?"

"No," we mumbled again. What good was it complaining to his brother?

"There, now, you see?" he asked Terell. "Your brothers and sister approve. You trust them, don't you?"

No answer.

He drove into the hospital's parking lot and a thought just popped into my head. I didn't remember him ever taking us to the doctor before; Mom always did. If Uncle Darrick was Pop's brother, how did the burden fall on Mom?

An empty space was right beside the entrance to the medical center, and I groaned. Again, when we wanted a delay, it never came

Pop parked the van, shifted the gear handle, and sat there, staring straight ahead at the medical building. Through the rearview mirror, I could see the lines form on his forehead and his eyebrows crinkle. What was he thinking now?

Kriston leaned forward. "Aren't we going to pick Mom up first?"

"Later," Pop said, and hopped out the van.

We looked at each other and crawled out behind him. Terell walked as far away from Pop as he could get.

We passed through the entrance doors where the scent of alcohol and sight of doctors and nurses running around in white sent chills up my back.

Pop directed us to the pediatrician's lounge and then headed toward the main desk. The lounge was completely empty. The four walls, three doors, six pictures, two sofas, two chairs, and a magazine rack surrounded us.

Just then a door swung open and we braced against each other.

"He-ey!" Doctor Uncle Darrick said, coming over and giving everybody a kiss. He had the exact same features as Pop, but Uncle Darrick was younger.

"How's everybody doing? Your pop checking you in?" he asked Terell.

"Yes," I told him, wrapping my arms around Terell.

"How's your mom?"

"Fine," I said.

"When is she coming home?" he asked.

"After we leave here," I answered.

"Mmm hmm," he mumbled. "Your father arranged this, didn't he?"

We looked at each other. "I guess so," I told him.

"Hmmm," he hummed, rubbing his chin the same way Pop did. "Take Terell inside and sit him down. I'll be right back." He vanished out the door.

We looked at each other again. The time was no more perfect than now to get up and run like crazy.

I held Terell's hand and opened the door to a miniature hallway containing more doors. I pushed one to an examination room.

A papered couch stretched out on our right. A cabinet filled with jars and bottles loaded with cotton balls, thermometers, and other funny looking instruments extended across the opposite wall.

I clung tightly to Terell. The needles were in there somewhere, I knew it!

The door pushed open and we jumped, ready to fly out the window.

"Hey," Pop said, searching around. "Where is he?"

"Out . . . somewhere," I explained.

Pop shut the door and unzipped Terell's jacket and handed me his backpack. "Go wait outside with your brothers," he instructed me.

What? Desert Terell?

Slowly, I walked to the door, watching Terell's eyes beg me not to go. How could I leave him like this? Alone with a parent to face the lowest form of medication known to childhood: a shot in the rear.

Pop hoisted my poor baby brother onto the papered couch as Doctor Uncle Darrick's (D.U.D.) voice echoed across the hall.

I stepped out and closed the door.

"Where's your father?" he asked me.

"In there." I pointed.

He shut his eyes, sighed, and reopened the door.

I got the feeling that something wasn't quite right. I slipped into the waiting room. "Psst, hey, come on," I whispered to my brothers.

We tiptoed over and put our ears to the door of the examination room. Tiny clinks, clothes shuffling, and light footsteps didn't give us a clue about what was happening.

Then there was silence.

"Wait a minute!" Pop suddenly exploded. "Where's the gas mask?"

"What gas mask?" D.U.D. asked.

"The thing you use to put him to sleep with!"

"He's not a dog, Justin. We don't put him to sleep."

"You're giving him a shot just like that, with him looking at you?" Pop asked.

It was quiet again.

"Wait, wait, wait a minute!" Pop thundered. "Put him to sleep first, I can't stand him screaming like that!"

"He's not the one screaming," D.U.D. pointed out.

My brothers and I gaped at each other. I opened the door an inch.

Pop's bulging eyes didn't even blink as he watched his brother unbutton Terell's shirt. His mouth hung wide open. "Don't you have a TV set or something to distract his attention? He's sitting there looking right at you."

"No, he's looking at you."

Pop glared hard at his brother.

D.U.D. pulled Terell's shirt off. I noticed how gentle he was.

"Why do you have to do all that?" Pop asked, waving his arm. "Don't you have enough skin after you roll his sleeve up?"

D.U.D. wouldn't say anything.

"He might catch a draft like that, man, why can't you pull up one sleeve?"

"Justin, if this is going to bother you, why don't you wait in the lounge?" D.U.D. suggested.

"No!" Pop shook his head. "No! I'm staying!"

D.U.D. tipped a bottle of alcohol onto a cotton ball and rubbed it against Terell's left arm.

"Just like that!" Pop snapped, staring into his face.

"Just like what?" D.U.D. asked.

"Just like that, you're going to inject him? No distractions, nothing to turn his attention away?"

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"I don't know. You're the doctor!" he said. "Why can't you find something to distract his attention?"

"He's looking at his daddy," D.U.D. remarked.

Pop's eyes glared again, his lips shut tight.

D.U.D. reached for the needle, removed the cap, and—

"Hold it, man! I'm not going to stand here and watch you shove some needle up my kid! Give it to him in a pill or something!"

"Justin, he's my nephew and I love him as much as you do. I'm not doing this to hurt him, I'm doing it for his benefit." D.U.D. stepped to the side, blocking our view of Terell.

"You think I enjoy seeing kids get sick when it could have been prevented? You think I enjoy watching them suffer? You think it's a thrill to inject needles into their arms?" He backed away from the couch. "No, let me rephrase that. Do you think?"

Tyrone snorted. I nearly choked.

"How's that?" D.U.D. asked Terell. "You're all vaccinated. How do you feel?"

"Fine," Terell remarked in surprise, examining his bandaged arm.

"Fine?" Pop exclaimed. "Fine? What do you mean fine? Tell him the truth!"

"It didn't hurt," Terell said.

"Don't lie to your father, boy!" Pop advised.

D.U.D. glanced at us, and I shut the door fast. "Justine come in here," he called.

I held my breath and pushed the door open.

"Take your father home, please," he told me.

"Come on, Pop," I said, creeping in. "It's time to go now." I patted his stomach. "Let's go, Pop."

"You had this boy terrified all week!" he continued. "You think I'd let—"

I pushed him out the door before he could finish. My brothers kept him occupied while I dressed Terell. "Is that why Mom always brings us?" I asked.

D.U.D. smiled at me. "Your dad loves you very much and would stop at nothing if he knew something was wrong."

"He didn't sound like that in the van," I said.

"Everything he said was to convince himself that he could pull through this. He has fears just like everybody else, Justine, and taking his kids to the doctor is a very trying experience for him." He rolled off a length of paper sheet from the couch.

"Your dad felt very guilty for not bringing Terell in for his vaccination shot when he was a baby. It was no big mistake, he just lost track. He could've brought Terell in later. But it bothered him."

Uncle Darrick rolled the crumpled sheet up and dropped it into the trash can. "He wouldn't let his steam off on his kids; he saved it all for me." He smiled and winked at me. "He wants the best for you."

Terell was dressed and ready. I grabbed the door handle. "When are you coming over again?" I asked. "See Doreen? Stay over a couple of nights?"

"When I get my time off I'll come," he said.

"Okay?"

"Make it soon," I said, meaning it. "Bye Uncle Darrick."

"Bye Uncle Darrick," Terell echoed.

Maybe everything wasn't supposed to go right all the time, I thought as we walked out to the lounge. Maybe nobody could be 100 percent confident, and maybe the ones who thought they were couldn't see what was really going on, or maybe they just didn't want to admit that they got scared too. You couldn't get A's in everything.

I guess there was no one right answer for everything. Bad things happened, like spraining your ankle, dropping keys down an elevator shaft, flooding your house, forgetting vaccination shots, flunking almost every subject. Well, that one could have been avoided.

But even so, accidents happen. Things go wrong. Still, it helped to be a little prepared. And if having good grades could help Pop stop worrying a little, then I think the hard work would all be worth it.

We exited out the main doors and stepped into the bright clear sunshine. Red, yellow, purple, and blue flowers helped the tall green plants color the side of the building. Thick, white, puffy clouds floated above and I wanted to fly up there with them and greet the coming summer air.

Our family was waiting by the entrance to the hospital for Pop to pull the van up.

"Hey Mom!" I yelled as we walked over.

"Hi Mommy!" Terell called, racing into her arm.

"Hey baby," Mom planted a kiss on his forehead.

"How'd it go with Uncle Darrick?" she asked him.

"Pop was terrible," he said. "It must've really hurt."

Pop's look of pain lingered even as he took Doreen from Mom and it showed that Terell was speaking the truth. Pop helped Mom out of the wheelchair and into the front seat.

Well, I thought, now it was official. We had a new baby sister. She couldn't have come at a better time. I watched Terell's face beam. What more could we ask for? Wait a minute! My composition! I ravaged my backpack for the paper. I pulled out the sheet and unfolded it. In the top left hand corner the letter A was in bold red ink next to a plus sign.

No English for the summer!

I beamed at Pop. This would really make up for everything he had to go through on report card night and today. It would be the perfect Father's Day gift.

But for now, at least a little while, I wanted to keep it to myself.

Pop placed Doreen back in Mom's arms after she adjusted the bassinet into a second car seat, I got ready to close the door.

"Well," Mom called out to me. "How about this for something different? What do you think of your new sister?" Her brown eyes sparkled as she waited for my answer.

I braced against the door and watched her unwrap the blanket to a tiny, drooling, wrinkled up, exact replica of my brothers, so tiny and helpless. I wondered how long it would take for her to get used to us. Would she be scared and confused? Maybe she would feel abandoned when everybody went to sleep. I'd have to make sure that nothing happened to her and that no danger came near her.

I leaned in a little closer and smiled. One crinkly eyelid lifted and then the other, and I could swear her brown eyes were staring right at me when she spread her tiny arm out and stretched her mouth wide open to release an earsplitting yell.

I cupped my ears and exclaimed, "Does she have to stay in my room?"

The End

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