Brave boy. She pauses, then
changes the subject. And how
are things going at home now?
“Okay. Uncle Bruce is gone
a lot. He travels for work.
Aunt Taryn is kind of stressed.
And Hannah is Hannah.”
Are the two of you getting along?
I know it was a big adjustment.
“I don’t think Hannah likes
me being around. She’s used
to having things her way.
Mostly, she just ignores me.”
She smiles. Except when you
slip a frog into her cereal?
My turn to grin. “Yeah. I guess
that was kind of hard to ignore.”
I thought she was going to puke.
You’ve lived there for a little
more than a year. Wasn’t it
supposed to be a trial period?
I nod. “The judge told us after
twelve months we could make it
permanent, but we’d all have to
agree.” That includes my dad.
Pretty sure he’s still in prison.
I hope so.
That’s where he belongs.
I never want to see him again.
He scares me.
This time he got locked up
for armed robbery.
That means he used a gun
to steal money.
When the judge sent him away,
the deal was I’d go live with Aunt Taryn.
Temporarily.
As in, things could change.
That worries me.
But the judge also said, considering
the not-so-great way Dad took
care of me, what I want will
carry more weight. That’s good.
Because the last time I heard
from Dad was on a speakerphone
in that courtroom.
Don’t worry, son, he said.
I’ll come get you the minute
they let me out of this place.
And that is
my worst nightmare.
FACT OR FICTION:
I Once Lived in a Cave
Answer: Anything’s possible.
Ms. C sends me back to class,
and when I get there,
Mrs. Peabody’s voice is gentle.
Go on and take your seat.
We’re sharing the stories
we wrote this morning.
We hear about birthday
parties, puppies, and trips
to Disneyland and the zoo.
Misty’s Grand Canyon one
is pretty good, but Hannah wrote
about her lame dance recital.
Guess happy memories
are boring. These people need
to get more creative.
Mrs. Peabody calls on me,
and when I stand to read,
every head swings my way.
Okay by me. I worked hard
on this story. It’s more
interesting than ballet:
“When I was five, my parents
took me camping. We put up
a tent, unrolled sleeping bags.
Gathered wood for the fire.
“That night, we roasted hot dogs
on sticks and scorched
marshmallows for s’mores.
Camp food is awesome,
even when you burn it.
“After that, Mom made us play
charades, category ‘fairy tales.’
I picked ‘Jack and the Beanstalk.’
Dad chose ‘Red Riding Hood.’
Mom went last, with ‘Hansel
and Gretel.’ I guess she was
hinting at something.”
See how I slipped them a clue?
That’s called foreshadowing.
“Next morning, I was scared to go
to the bathroom alone, but Mom
told me not to worry about the stinky
outhouses, to just go in the woods.
She gave me leftover graham crackers,
said to leave a trail of crumbs to find
my way back. And I fell for it!
“I didn’t go far, but when I turned
around, everything looked the same.
Good thing I had a way to figure out
my reverse trip. Except, something
had scarfed the crumbs. I could hear
it was big, and it was crashing
through the woods, straight at me!”
They’re on the edge of their seats.
Right where I want them.
“Okay, I freaked. Wouldn’t you?
I ran and ran, deep into the forest.
The trees were thick, and the sun
had a hard time cutting through,
so it got darker and darker. I lost
whatever was chasing me, but
then I was lost, too. I wandered
for hours. It started to get cold.
“Luck was with me. I found a cave.
It looked empty, so I went inside.
I figured my parents were searching
and would find me anytime. Wrong!
You know who found me? A mama
grizzly and her twins. I was sure
they’d eat me. But Ma Griz knew
I was just a dumb kid in trouble.
“She let me stay. Bruno and Bella
showed me where the stream was
and taught me to find berries,
dig for termites and steal honey
from hives. It was a pretty good life
for a couple of years. I know I should’ve
started kindergarten sooner, but—”
Cal . . . warns Mrs. Peabody. This
is supposed to be autobiographical,
not a riff on a fairy tale.