I traced my fingers along the lines, studying what I had seen then. Though the years had hardened him, his eyes were not so different now than they’d been during those days.
Sighing, I tucked the book into my bag and walked back out to the kitchen. I came up behind my mom and wrapped my arms around her waist. “Love you, Mom.”
Her expression was tender when she glanced at me over her shoulder. “Love you, Aly.” Then she frowned. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I shook my head as I twisted up my mouth. “I’ve just been tired.”
She nodded, but it was more in appraisal than real acceptance. I could tell she didn’t believe what I’d said. Mom knew me well enough to see when I was lying. “You know I’m here, whenever you need me.”
“I know, Mom.” I squeezed her again before I stepped away. “I’ve got to run.”
She blew out a breath of disappointment. “Fine, then, leave your old mom here all alone with your stinky brother.”
I laughed because Mom never seemed old.
I opened the door. Mom’s voice called after me, “And let me know when you’re off from work next so we can go shopping.”
“I will,” I promised before I shut the door behind me.
The sun stood proud at the center of the sky, its heat soaking me through in a matter of seconds. I walked back toward my car, but I passed it by. My attention drifted two houses away and across the street to the one that had been Jared’s.
Making a quick decision, I turned and strode down the sidewalk, to its end where the rickety fence still stood. I’d be late for work, but today, they were just going to have to wait. Sweat pebbled up on the nape of my neck, and I pulled in a breath as I ducked down and wedged myself through the small hole in the fence that had once seemed like the center of my universe. Wood splinters tugged at my shirt, and I twisted so I could fit through.
On the other side, I straightened as a slow chill crept up my spine. Weeds grew high across the vast expanse of the vacant lot. In the distance, a fence rose to enclose another neighborhood to the south of ours, but in between were six acres of uninhabited land where we’d spent so many hours as children. The trails our play had tracked were no longer visible. The trees that had once housed our fairy tales now seemed out of place, tall and full in the backdrop of this barren desert. Stickers pricked at my legs as I trudged across to our tree. I hadn’t been out here in so many years.
I stood beneath the rotting wood, the small pieces of two-by-four that had been nailed to the trunk still offering their escape. I found my footing on the lowest one and gripped a branch as I hoisted myself up. Tentatively I took the next step, and the lower level of our fort came into view.
I yelped when the third step gave, but I managed to hold myself up on a solid branch, pulling myself up the rest of the way.
I settled onto the stretch of plywood that we had so carefully hammered into the safety of the tree. This little fort had seemed so massive when we’d built it. I drew my knees to my chest and rested my head back against one of the large branches that grew up from where the trunk had segmented into four.
And I closed my eyes.
SEVEN
Aly dragged the heavy piece of wood as best she could. Jared called it plywood, and it was her job to get it from the fence to the tree. Earlier her dad had said they could use whatever they wanted as long as they didn’t make a mess and they brought his tools back.
“And watch your little sister, Christopher,” he’d said as he and their mom left to run some errands.
Aly turned around, walking backward as she struggled with the flat piece of wood. It was so big she could barely wrap her hands around it. It dug into her palms. She wanted to cry because it hurt, but she wasn’t a baby anymore. She was seven and she knew she needed to act like it. She tugged it harder, and it scraped along the ground. She huffed out a proud breath when she dropped it at the base of the trunk. “All done,” she said as she dusted off her hands.
“About time,” Christopher yelled from somewhere up in the tree, the sharp strike of a hammer echoing in her ears.
She jumped back when Jared suddenly dropped from the tree, landing on his feet.
“Good job, Aly Cat.” He leaned down and hefted the plywood over his head, balancing it on one shoulder as he climbed back up the tree. “This is going to be the coolest fort in history,” she heard him say.
“Can I be in the club, too?” she called as she attempted to climb up the same way Jared had gone.
“No,” Christopher immediately retorted, while Jared said, “Depends. You gotta pass the initiation first.”
Her stomach hurt a little. She didn’t think she’d be good enough.
She climbed up toward the sounds happening above her, the ground slowly disappearing below. She wrapped her hand around a branch and pulled. It snapped and her foot slipped. She screamed as she fell.