Sammy decided it was Sunday. It was quiet like Sunday. No cars, no doors slamming. Quiet, except for the wind and insects and noisy birds. It seemed a long time ago that he’d lost his bike. A really long time. He could hardly think when that was.
Kevin was sitting against a tree with his face in the sun. His eyes were closed. Sammy practiced his steps. Step high. No stepping on sticks. No dragging toes. Walk away now. One step at a time. That was the way. One step, two steps . . . climb up rocks. Keep climbing. Climb till you come to the place with dead trees and snakes. But he’d better wait for Kevin.
He slapped at a mosquito. What if he stepped on a snake and got bitten and died? His mother would be sad. He pictured her in Bethan’s room, standing by the window, where she could see the road and watch for him to come home.
He turned his face to where he thought their house was. It was where the sun came from in the morning. That was east. He learned that in school.
“I’m coming home, Mom. Pretty soon. As soon as I convince Kevin. Don’t worry, Mom.” If she saw him now, she’d be double worried. He’d lost his socks, his pants and shirt were torn, and he didn’t have a toothbrush. And every minute he was missing school, falling behind. He’d never catch up unless he worked so hard, he would be tired all the time. He could do it. His teacher, Mrs. Hoffman, said he was a hard worker. She was wondering where he was, too. And the other kids in his class were saying, “Where’s Sammy? When’s he coming back? What a long vacation.”
“Yeah, some vacation!” He slapped at another mosquito. Every day, mosquitoes! And every day, Kevin’s food. He liked Kevin okay, although sometimes he didn’t. Kevin said, “Sammy, you say one more word about going home and I’m going to pop you one.”
How many days now? A lot. He started counting back. The day he lost his bike. That was one day. Then he slept in the woods, and then it was two days. And that was the day he fell on top of Kevin’s house.
And then what? Oh, yes, he got it! All night, he was tied up. Kevin was mean then, but now sometimes he was nice, like showing him the snares and telling him about snakes. And then it was . . . three, four, five. He held up his hand, all five fingers. Five days. “Boy, oh boy,” he said.