Sammy wrote Kevin a letter.
Dear Kevin,
I want you to come. I fixed the room. You have a bed and I have a bed. No sleeping on the floor. I have everything ready. Come soon. Thank you.
Love, Sammy
His mother saw him writing. She looked over his shoulder. Sammy covered the paper with his hands.
Since he’d come home, his mother wanted to know where he was and what he was doing every second. She watched him from the window. But, why? He wasn’t going to get lost again. He wasn’t going to leave his bike without his special chain. He wasn’t a baby anymore. He did things. He didn’t have to be watched every minute and be asked about everything.
“Who are you writing to?” his mother asked.
“Private.”
“Private?” She laughed. “I didn’t know we had private secrets. Can I see?”
“No.”
She looked at him. “You’ve changed. You’ve become very stubborn.”
“I am a stubborn person,” he agreed. He remembered himself on the cliff. The way he’d gotten up there, and the way he’d stayed there and waited. He hadn’t cried once. “Don’t baby me anymore,” he told his mother.
“But you are my baby. My special baby.”
“I’m almost thirteen years old. I do things. I can make a fire. I can walk in the woods. I’m a great swimmer. I can do things, Mom. I saved Kevin from drowning.”
“I know you can do things,” she said. “I know you can, and I’m proud of you. I’m so glad to have you back.” She hugged him, a big one, and he hugged her back.