On Friday my pill and water weren’t on the counter. That happened sometimes when Mom was running late for her shift. I’d have to remember to ask Dad to get it for me when he came in from pulling weeds. I couldn’t miss it. That afternoon was sixth-grade orientation, and I wanted to make a good impression.
I toasted a couple of Wild! Berry Pop-Tarts and plopped down at the computer. I flipped on the TV in the background while I played Penny’s Pet Groomer on the computer. Since I already had a gazillion good-groomer stars, I got a little crazy. I started giving the dogs orange mohawks and shaved smiley faces into the cats. I liked when the customers came into the virtual shop with speech bubbles of pretend cursing over their heads.
Right after the first four contestants on The Price Is Right were told to “Come on down!” Dad popped in, filled his water bottle, and grabbed his keys.
“I’ll be right back. I gotta get some gas for the lawn mower,” he said. “Think you can stay out of trouble for a while?”
“Do monkeys have tails?” I asked.
Dad grinned. “That’s my girl!”
I quit my game, grabbed the remote, and surfed through about a hundred stations. Nothing looked all that interesting. I decided to paint my nails. Each one a different color.
Sam came down in the middle of me trying to clean up the nail-polish remover I accidentally knocked over on the kitchen floor. He shook his head and laughed. “You’re gonna be in so much trouble.”
He was right. I was supposed to put down newspaper if I painted my nails on the wood floor. I scowled as hard as I could at him. “Go away.”
“Whatever,” Sam said as he headed down the hall.
It took seven paper towels, but the floor didn’t look too bad when I was done. Of course, then I had another problem. The paper towels stunk from here to next year. If I threw them away in the trash can, Mom was going to notice. And then she’d know I’d broken the rules.
Dad was going to be home any second, too. I wadded up all the evidence and headed for the bathroom. In a movie once, I’d seen a bad guy flush some incriminating papers down the toilet, so I threw in the towels and pushed the handle.
The paper towels were all going down! Yes! It had worked!
But then, ever so slowly, the water began rising. And rising. And rising.
Stop, I begged. Please stop.
But the water kept right on rising and began spilling over the edge of the toilet and onto the floor.
I thought I heard the garage door opening. Oh no. Dad was home!
I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, yanked open the linen closet, and grabbed some bath towels.
I came back down as quickly as I could, but I wasn’t going to be fast enough. Desperate times call for desperate measures so I jumped the last five stairs. When I landed, my feet slipped out from underneath me.
I sat down.
Hard.
A sharp pain traveled up my spine and rattled my teeth. I wanted to call for help, but I couldn’t breathe.