Alex was crouched near the TV cabinet, looking through their collection of VHS tapes. “Thanks. You too!” A few seconds later he heard the door open, soon followed by it closing and locking from the outside.
He crawled away from the TV cabinet to the living room window and watched his dad put his baby sister in her car seat and then cross the lawn to the Wattses’ house. He knocked on the door. The Wattses would be awake though, even though they were retired. They both woke up at six every single morning.
After two knocks and no answer, his dad gave up and headed back to the car.
“Changing grocery days, Wattses?” Alex said to himself. “Society as we know it is crumbling.”
He crawled back to the cabinet to decide on his morning viewing as he heard his dad drive off to face another day at work.
Alex only half-watched the movie he had chosen. He finally decided on the Disney film The Sword in the Stone, which he had loved since it was re-released when he was twelve. He’d made his dad buy it for him when it had come out just a few months ago. He had already watched it numerous times, although it was widely considered to be a little kids’ movie. It was his comfort-blanket to get his mind off his woes. Plus, who would know?
About half-way through the movie, he got up to get a drink. Realizing he was the man of the house for the time being, he decided it would be a can of pop. Maybe two. It would be a good day. He also decided to see what snacks were in stock, just in case the mood hit him. As he searched the cupboards, he heard an ambulance in the background. He looked out the window to see which way it was going, but he must have missed it.
When he looked back to the cupboard—jackpot! A brand-new bag of chips: Hostess Sour Cream and Onion, his favourite. He grabbed it, and one can of pop, saving the second one for later—it’s the adult thing to do—and went back to his movie.
Soon he heard another siren, louder than the first. He paused the movie, waited for the ambulance to pass by and heard a dog barking. That made him wonder why Shadow hadn’t run around like crazy, making the weird yipping noise she made whenever there was a siren. “Oh no,” he said, standing, letting the remote fall to the floor. He went to the window and saw the dog that was chasing the ambulance down the street.
Shadow.
Dammit! His dad must have held the door open while he was leaving and didn’t notice that she had snuck out. Shadow was not allowed outside other than on her leash or on her chain in the backyard. She always came back, but it was a hassle; usually someone would have to corner her to stop her. Shadow thought it was a game.
“Shadow!” Alex yelled through the window, hoping but doubtful that she would hear him and stop. Her ears must have been better than he thought, because she stopped short and her head snapped back to the window. She stared straight at him—right into his eyes. Alex knew what would happen next. She stood completely still for a moment, then spun around and bolted.
“Dammit!” he blurted. So much for his father’s request to stay inside. It wouldn’t be that bad, though—he knew exactly where she was headed.
A ten-minute walk to the woods; another ten to the brook where he was certain his dog would be. Hopefully she wouldn’t be too hard to catch, though he estimated it would take at least another ten just to get hold of her collar. If she was actually playing in the brook it would be easier, but it would also be really cold. He had to get this done quickly—if his dad called and he didn’t answer, he’d be in trouble, even though it was his dad’s fault that he was out.
A third ambulance sped by, pulling his attention back to the world around him.
When Alex reached the edge of the woods, a fire truck sped by. That explains the ambulances, I guess. Each time an ambulance passed, he thought of his mother. He worried about his father; his sister. Worried about—
“No!” he said aloud to himself, planting his feet firmly in the gravel at the edge of the woods to steady himself. “You’re through with all that!” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then slowly let it out—something he had learned to do from his school’s councillor when his anxiety went into overdrive. “They’re fine. Everyone’s fine. No reason to think otherwise.”
He was so preoccupied with his self-assurances that he’d started walking toward the brook again before it sunk in that the fire truck had been going the opposite direction of the ambulances. He had just started wondering about the long string of traffic following behind the fire truck when he saw a black tail slink around the bend ahead of him, urging him back to his task.
DAVID
Aunt Carol dropped the kids off at their schools—Nicole at Sydney Academy and David at Park Junior High. David was a year younger than the other kids in Grade 9; he knew Nicole resented him for being skipped ahead a grade when she clearly felt smarter than him. He’d overheard her complaining about it to their mother, who’d had a “serious talk” with Nicole about her “aggression” and “difficult social skills.” He could picture his sister rolling her eyes through the whole thing.
David, however, had gotten used to the idea almost immediately. For a while he worried that he would face trouble for being a nerd going from elementary to junior high, skipping over the sixth grade. But, he quickly made friends who stuck with him over the two years he had been there.
Most of those friends weren’t in
