“How about The goldfish has landed?” Owen asked. “It could mean . . . I don’t know . . .” He wasn’t sure what they needed to say that was secret from everyone else.
“I’ll need to let you know when we’re doing The Plan,” said Eleanor.
“The Plan?” said Owen.
Eleanor glanced around, but no one was there except Michael, who had crawled under his bed, muttering about beavers and wolves and endless winter. All you could see were his feet. “The Plan,” Eleanor whispered loudly. “The plan to run away back home. To bury Scrumpy and move back to the tree house.”
“Are you sure . . . ?” Owen asked.
“Yes,” said Eleanor. “And you promised not to tell. And to help me.” She looked very stern.
Owen nodded slowly. He had promised not to tell. He didn’t remember promising to help—but friends helped each other. What kind of friend would he be if he didn’t help? Still, he wondered what his parents would think of his keeping this secret and helping with this plan.
“Excellent! All systems are go.” Eleanor bounced on her toes. “How about The goldfish is hungry is the code for when I’m going to run away and ride the city bus to my old house? It’s on the corner of Central Avenue and 31st Street. Can you figure out which bus I need?” She was talking very fast. “You’re my trusty navigator—you’re like Chewbacca, and I’m Han Solo. I’ll send you a note tomorrow when it’s time to go.”
Everything was happening so fast. And Owen wasn’t sure he liked being Chewbacca. “Tomorrow?” He was hoping they could wait until—well, until forever.
“Yes, tomorrow. We’ll go to play in the backyard, and then I’ll escape.”
Owen sighed and nodded. “The goldfish is hungry.” He had promised, after all. But he really wished he hadn’t.
Chapter 7 Eleanor
When Eleanor’s mom came home from the store for the third time, everyone went upstairs to Owen’s apartment for supper with Owen and Michael and Owen’s dad. Owen’s mom was still working—she was a paramedic, so she worked a lot of strange hours. Once every three days, she was gone all day and night.
The two families stood around the table. There were only really four places at the table, but Owen’s dad had squished an extra chair in so all the bigger people, even Alicia, could sit down. “I thought Owen and Eleanor and Michael might like a picnic on the floor.” In the living room, on a blanket, were three more plates and silverware and water cups.
“That will be great!” said Eleanor. Usually she was not allowed to eat on the floor because of spilling. She started toward the living room. Owen followed.
“Wait,” said Owen’s dad. He turned to Eleanor’s parents. “We usually pray before we eat. Is that okay with you?”
“Of course,” said Eleanor’s mom. “We usually pray before meals too.”
They all held hands (Eleanor had to hold Alicia’s and her mom’s), and Owen’s dad said a prayer that was made up out of his own head. He called God Spirit of Life. He said God was like a mother and a father. And he asked God to bless the new friends in the apartment below. That’s us, thought Eleanor. Except I’m not staying.
When they finished, she said, “That was a weird prayer.”
Her dad said, “Eleanor.”
“It wasn’t how we pray,” she explained to Owen and his family. “We say God-is-great-and-God-is-good-and-we-thank-him-for-this-food-Amen.”
Eleanor’s mother cleared her throat. “There are many ways to talk to God.”
“Maybe God likes hearing different prayers,” said Owen’s dad. “All the same would get boring.”
Eleanor nodded. That made sense.
“This pasta looks delicious!” said Dad.
It wasn’t pasta like Eleanor’s dad made. First of all, it wasn’t spaghetti. It was short noodles that looked like little fat straws. Also, it wasn’t covered in tomato sauce but instead was mixed with mushrooms and weird green stuff and little globs of white cheese. But the good part was that there was also macaroni and cheese made from a box, for people who didn’t want the gross white globby cheese and the giant slimy-looking mushrooms. Eleanor ate mac and cheese, and so did Michael.
Also, there was warm bread and a big bowl of grapes, and there was a green leafy salad. Eleanor did not eat the salad.
Owen ate the grown-up pasta and the salad. He did not even pick out the vegetables. Eleanor didn’t understand it. But he convinced her to try a mushroom by telling her that she was a spy in Jabba the Hutt’s domain, and if she didn’t eat the slug food, people would find out and she’d be caught. So she ate the slug food.
One bite.
And really? It wasn’t too bad.
And Owen wasn’t too bad either. In fact, he was awesome.
It was too bad that she couldn’t live downstairs from Owen and live at her old house.
But she had to pick one, and she had already picked her old house. Jedi queens did not go back on their decisions.
Eleanor swallowed the slug food and stuck out her tongue. “Yuck. Mushrooms are gross.”
Chapter 8 Owen
After dinner, everyone went to the backyard for the fish funeral. They brought folding chairs and put them in two nice rows so that Owen’s dad and Michael and Eleanor’s parents and her big sister and big brother could sit. “How long will this take?” asked Alicia. “I’m supposed to call Millie tonight. My best friend,” she added to Owen.
Eleanor said, “You call her every night.”
Alicia ignored Eleanor. She turned to Owen’s dad to explain. “She’s coming over on her bike tonight to say hi.”
Eleanor said, “But tonight is the funeral, and it will take a long time.”
“Girls,” said their mom in a warning voice—just like the warning voice Owen’s mom
