Claire was pretty much the only one talking during breakfast. Mom said a few things, but I could tell she was distracted. She was probably feeling guilty; she always got that way after she yelled at me. When we were done with breakfast, Mom stopped Claire from getting out the list. Instead she made an announcement.
“Today we’re going to skip the list; let’s do something else.” She paused for a second to make sure we were paying attention. “How about we go to one of those tree-top adventure parks. Do you know what that is?”
Claire shook her head and I nodded. Mom’s surprise made me instantly feel better. I’d been wanting to go to one of those places forever. Mom is big on the philosophy of going outdoors and moving around if you are in a rut. I knew why this was happening—it was for me. Because I was sad about Lucy being gone, and being forced to take care of Claire. But Mom had it wrong; I didn’t have a problem with Claire. So really it was only a half rut, but it didn’t matter; I was glad we were going. I listened while she explained everything to Claire.
I already knew about the rope bridges, the zip lines, and the different challenges in the trees, but the part I was not expecting was when Mom said, “I’m going to do it too!” I couldn’t imagine her walking across a tightrope in the trees. She didn’t seem like that kind of person. It was the kind of thing I was going to have to see to believe.
It didn’t take long to get ready. The hardest part was getting Claire to wear the right kind of clothes—you can’t wear skirts and dresses to go on a zip line. Mom finally had to pick out a T-shirt and shorts and stand there while Claire put them on. When we got in the car, Mom let me pick out the radio station. I took that as a good sign—I was probably forgiven. Sometimes when a good song comes on, you can almost feel like things are perfect. I was having that exact feeling, when all of a sudden I saw Peter walking down the street.
“Hey Claire!” I pointed out the window. “Look, it’s Peter.”
Claire squealed and waved, but he was too far away to see us. Mom gasped and swerved the car. I thought it was because of Claire, but it wasn’t. It was because of me.
Mom pulled the car over and stopped. “Ash! Did you just recognize someone? I can’t believe it. That’s amazing.”
I sat up; she was right. Of course I knew why it had happened—Peter was pretty distinctive, smaller than other people—but still, that kind of thing never happened to me! I smiled and leaned back against the headrest.
“Why is that so amazing?” asked Claire. “I do it all the time.”
I leaned farther into the seat and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to explain this. Mom waited for a minute to see if I would answer. I kept quiet.
Mom pulled out into traffic, and then, when we were going again, she answered Claire.
“Ash has face blindness. It was something she was born with. It means she has trouble recognizing people.” I knew this wasn’t going to be a fast explanation. Regular people usually had lots of questions, so with Claire it was going to be even worse. I kept my eyes closed. I was right, Claire had a million questions, but Mom was patient and answered most of them. My favorite was “If I grew a mustache, would she still recognize me?” It was hard not to laugh when she asked that.
When we got to the adventure park, the first thing we had to do was put on special safety harnesses and gloves. They weren’t very comfortable, but when you’re wearing something that can save your life, you can’t be picky about a little discomfort. Even Claire seemed okay with it.
The adventure park was just like I was expecting it to be except for one thing—Mom. Claire wasn’t scared, I was slightly scared, and Mom was totally not scared at all. I couldn’t believe it. She was like a mountain goat, good at everything. I was shocked. I’d lived with her my whole life. How could I have not known this before? When I asked her about it, she just shrugged and said, “Oh, I’ve always had good balance.”
We got home early, which was good, because there was a postcard from Lucy in the mail, and seeing it reminded me about sending hers off. So far I was on schedule—one every other day, just like I’d promised. I took a few minutes and read her message. She was having fun canoeing and swimming, and the food was good. She said she missed me, but the big news was that she had slept outside for a whole night with only a sleeping bag—not even a tent. That didn’t make me jealous. I liked sleeping in things, things like tents, which kept bugs out. I put the postcard down and got myself ready to go to the VS Depot. I invited Claire, but she said she didn’t want to go, even when I suggested bike riding.
She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t like bike riding!”
This was bad news. I loved bike riding, and Dad had even fixed up my old bike for Claire. I pulled her over to the window and pointed to it. It was leaning against the garage. I was hoping she’d be excited about the supercute kitty helmet, the new bell, and the fun pink flag on the back—we’d bought all those things special for her. But she just looked at it and shook her head. It was too bad we hadn’t known about her goldfish thing. A goldfish helmet might have changed her mind. I left Claire with Mom and Steve—she was drawing him again—and went to get my bike.
My favorite thing about my bike is that Lucy and I have the exact same one—color, size, everything. We got them together last year. The only difference is that she has a silver basket and I have a black one. We called them our twikes—twins plus bikes. Pulling my bike out of the garage made me sad—you shouldn’t separate twikes, and Lucy’s was now in Portland.
Riding to the store was ten times faster than walking. I was there in minutes. Peter was at the counter just like I was expecting, and I waved to him as I walked in.
“Hi, how’s the book?” he asked.
The question surprised me, so I didn’t answer right away. This new book was different from the other PJ Walker books. Viola was great as always, but I wasn’t so sure about some of the other characters. Mainly it was a character named Percy who I was having trouble with. He spent a lot of time telling stories that had nothing to do with the mystery. If you are trying to solve a mystery, it’s kind of annoying to have to listen to a story about the time someone caught a squirrel in his bathroom—even if it’s kind of funny.
“It’s okay,” I answered. “But Percy’s stories are kind of long.”
Peter looked surprised. “Really? What chapter are you on?”
“Just finished four.” I put the party hat on the counter and glanced up—he was staring at me. I looked around—suddenly I was feeling uncomfortable. There was a huge banner with a giant picture of a goldfish on it hanging over the photocopiers. It was advertising posters—I hadn’t seen it before. I didn’t want to talk about the book anymore.
I pointed to the banner. “Is that new?”
Peter nodded. “Yes. We’re having a special. Do you need a poster?”
“No.” I shook my head. “But why a goldfish?”
Peter shrugged. “You don’t like goldfish?”
“No, I do. They’re okay.” Now I was feeling awkward again. I should have made Claire come with me. People liked her. I pushed the party hat forward. “I need to mail this.”
Peter shook his head. “I bet you’ll like it better if you give it time.” For a second nothing happened, and then we both reached for the hat—me to take it back, and him to weigh it.
Peter laughed. “I’m sorry, I meant give the book time, not the hat. The hat is fabulous. Did you have a party?”
I sighed. “Sort of, for Claire’s goldfish.”
He pointed to the poster and smiled.
I nodded.
After that everything went smoothly. He stamped the hat, I paid, and we both said good-bye. As I was stepping out the door, Peter called out to me.
“Remember!” he shouted. “If it’s in the story, it has meaning. Just keep reading.”
I nodded. Next time I was definitely bringing Claire, whether she wanted to come or not.
When I got home from mailing the hat, I reread Lucy’s postcard. It was hard to really know what was going on from only eight sentences. I hoped she was okay.
When Claire went upstairs to bed, I went up too, to read my book. This wasn’t like in the beginning—it wasn’t the best part of my day, but Peter was right, the book was getting better. It took all my energy to get to the last word of the chapter without falling asleep—it had been a long day.