hen he looked in the bathroom mirror the next morning, Julian was surprised to see his own familiar face staring back at him—the unruly black hair, the dark uptilted eyes. He had survived another empty, endless day and dream–filled night, and he felt that the solitary weekend should have transformed him, made him look somehow older, wiser, and more gaunt, but his face was disappointingly the same.

Almost as soon as he returned to his bedroom, he heard a sharp rap on the door and his aunt appeared before him in her tennis outfit.

“Julian,” she said, her voice already registering her distaste. “Your uncle and I have discussed your consequences.” She stopped, waiting for Julian to look her in the eye. “We still haven’t been able to contact your mother.” Daphne gave him a severe look, as though this was somehow Julian’s fault. “But obviously we can’t have you moping around here all day. Especially if you won’t even talk. So until she returns, we’ve enrolled you in the Quantum Childcare Center.

“These are the rules: The Center is open from nine to six. When it closes, you’ll return here immediately and go straight to your room. You will not go over to friends’ houses, and you will not receive friends here. When you’ve provided us with a written explanation of your actions, and an apology, we will reconsider the rules and determine any appropriate changes.”

Daphne’s voice had taken on some of the steely inflection of her husband’s. Julian could imagine the two of them coolly discussing the terms of his imprisonment with the same seriousness they brought to any domestic issue, like a bathroom remodel or a dinner party.

“Do you understand me?”

Julian nodded.

“I suppose a ‘thank you’ would be too much to ask,” Daphne added disagreeably, and walked out the door.

Quantum Childcare Center was located in the basement of an old church. When Julian arrived, two little boys with blank faces were playing math games on the computer and a few girls from school were milling about. There was Grace Wu, whom he’d known since first grade, now long–haired and with an inch of bare skin showing above her jeans. She came toward him and started asking him about his summer. But her questions only reminded Julian of Huckleberry Ranch, and he couldn’t bring himself to say more than a few words. Finally, she gave up and walked away.

Most of the morning was “free time.” Julian persuaded a glum fourth–grader named Gus to play Chinese chess with him. They used a bottle cap and a piece of broken crayon to replace the missing pieces. Julian won two games and let Gus win the third, which seemed to cheer him up a little. Later, the counselors set out dirty tubs of paint for “art.” Julian slumped on his stool for a long time, staring at the blank paper. Then he dipped his paintbrush in silver and painted a shining river. Around it, he painted two dark mountains and a black sky with silver stars.

Julian spent the next afternoon on the Quantum playground, shooting baskets by himself under the sun’s gray glare. The wind had blown over the trash can, and crumpled papers, soda cups, and plastic bags were scattered everywhere. He was trying to make his fifth basket in a row when somebody slammed into his side and knocked his ball to the ground. Julian looked up angrily.

“Danny!” he cried in surprise.

“Julian!” Danny gave him a hug that lifted Julian off the ground. “I was afraid I’d never see you alive again!” He stepped back, his black eyes shining. “I tried to call you a hundred times over the weekend. My mom even tried. All we’d get was the machine, and then finally we got your aunt but she kept saying you were unavailable, like she was holding you down in the dungeon or something.”

Julian laughed. “Well, not quite, but almost.”

“It was scary. She kept saying, ‘I’m sorry, but Julian is unavailable.’” Danny pinched his face up sourly and spoke in a high, whiny voice. “No matter what I asked her—‘Julian is unavailable.’ Even my mom was worried. I almost talked her into a plan where she’d distract your aunt and uncle, and I’d slip into the house and rescue you. But she chickened out.”

“You should have. I was basically in solitary all weekend,” Julian said with the casualness of a seasoned spy.

“I tried to warn you! Did you get my message at Robin’s?”

“Yes,” Julian said, laughing. “‘The tide is rising! The tide is rising!’”

“OK. You were right about that one. It wasn’t the best thing to have to say in an emergency. I mean, what’s the big deal? The tide is rising? So what? It rises every day! Twice!”

“I told you it was a stupid code!” Julian said.

“I’ve been thinking—for next time the code will be ‘It’s about Martinez.’ Isn’t that good? You could slip that into any message. ‘Give me a call. It’s about Martinez.’ Or ‘There’s a meeting tonight—it’s about Martinez.’”

“Yeah, much better.” The boys looked at each other and burst out laughing. “What are you doing here?” Julian said. “How’d you find me?”

“Grace Wu told Joey Spitoni. He’s in basketball camp with me.” Danny glanced around at the trash–covered playground in disgust. “What a mess! Hey, there’s Spacey Gracie now!” He turned to the swing set and gave Grace and the other girls a friendly wave, and they put their heads together and whispered, then smiled back.

Julian waved his hand in front of Danny’s face. “Come on, Danny. Focus! I’ve been dying to talk to you, but my aunt took away my phone.” They walked to the corner of the blacktop, where no one could overhear them, and sat down on a brown bench covered in graffiti. “What happened with Daphne?”

“It was ugly. Thursday night she calls. She found your old sneakers,” Danny snorted, “and was going to send them to you, but when she calls math camp, they say you never showed up. So she calls me. At first, I say I don’t know where you are. But then everyone’s totally freaking out. They were going to call the police, the FBI. My mom’s crying. She thinks you’ve been abducted. So I had to tell them. I gave them Robin’s name and told them she lived near Willits. My dad was ready to skin me alive. I lost my allowance for the entire summer!”

“What else did you tell them?”

“Nothing! They wanted to know who Robin was. I said I thought she was some kind of family friend. I was trying to think what to say, but everyone’s asking me questions, cross–examining me. Your aunt threatened to send me to juvenile hall!”

“Conspiracy to aid a runaway! Is running away a crime? Is lying a crime?”

“A terrible sin,” Danny said with a Mafia accent, “but not a crime.” He shook his head. “Anyway, Daphne obviously found you!”

“Yeah. One minute, I’m trying to explain to Robin why you’re talking about the stupid tide rising, the next thing the sheriff’s there, then Daphne’s driving up.”

“The sheriff?”

“Daphne told them Bob kidnapped me. Bob is Robin’s dad. Luckily, the sheriff was a friend of his.” Julian tried to shut out the image of Bob’s angry face. “So nobody knows about Big Tree Grove or anything? Or the e–mails?”

“No, I didn’t tell them anything about that. What about you? They must have given you a major grilling.”

“You know Daphne,” Julian said. “She was too busy ranting and raving to ask questions. But then my uncle started asking me who Robin was and why I went up there.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Nothing. What could I say?”

“You just sat there and said nothing?” Danny gave him a look of admiration. “Wasn’t he mad?”

“He was beyond mad. That’s why they kept me in solitary all weekend. Now I’m seriously grounded.”

“For how long?”

“For life, I guess. Or until my mom gets back. They’re trying to get hold of her.” Julian had been trying to avoid thinking about how his mom would react to having to come back early from China, and he continued quickly, “Daphne read me the riot act! No friends allowed! I think she means you.”

“What?” Danny said, with a wounded expression. “She doesn’t like me? Now my feelings are hurt.” He put his hand on his heart and sobbed dramatically.

Danny wanted to hear every detail about Huckleberry Ranch. Julian told him all about the tree house and everything Robin had said about Operation Redwood.

“A tree house! And a covert operation!” Danny said admiringly. “You guys are good.”

“But it’s not going to happen,” Julian said. “Even if my mom comes back, Robin’s dad will never let us come now.” He felt his spirits sinking. “Do you know that it’s not illegal to cut down redwood trees?”

Danny frowned. “Sure. I knew that. If it was illegal, how could your uncle get away with it so easily?”

“All right then, who’s Julia Butterfly Hill?”

“Uh, I dunno,” Danny said in an Elmer Fudd voice. “A wabbit?”

“Wrong. She was a woman who lived in a redwood tree for two years so that the loggers wouldn’t cut it down. Here’s another one. You can cut down trees in a national forest. True or false?”

“Oh, come on, Julian, school’s over!”

“This is the last one, I promise. True or false?”

“False?”

“Wrong again!” said Julian. “It’s true. You can cut down redwoods. You can cut down trees in the national forest. Did they ever teach us that in school?”

“Nothing like that. They never teach us anything that really matters. Why?” He fell to his knees and raised his hands to the sky. “Why? Why does nobody care that we are so terribly mis–informed?” Grace Wu and her friends looked over, giggling, but Danny just shouted louder. “Why do they leave us to wallow in our ignorance? The laws of our country don’t protect us! They’re cutting down all our trees and soon there won’t be any oxygen left and we’re all gonna die!” Then he jumped straight up from his knees to his feet, like a hip–hop dancer.

He sauntered past the smirking girls. “Who are you staring at?” Danny said, and grinned.

The next afternoon, Danny brought an e–mail from Robin. In the middle of the empty blacktop, Huckleberry Ranch suddenly came alive again. Before, Robin had been an imaginary girl living in an imaginary house near an imaginary forest. Now, Julian could hear the words in her breathless, slightly superior voice:

“OK, so what do you want me to say back?” Danny asked, peering over his shoulder.

Julian hesitated. Suddenly, he felt awkward having Danny write back to Robin. After all, they’d never even met.

“I don’t know,” Julian said. “Maybe I should write her back myself. Maybe I could get my own e–mail account and write her during ‘free time.’”

Danny looked at him hard. “You’re cutting me out of the loop?”

“No!” Julian felt his face grow warm. “I just thought it might give me something to do. And it might be more convenient that way, you know?”

“This is what I know,” Danny said, with a sharp edge to his voice. “I’m the one who came up with the Plan. I helped you figure out the whole thing. If it weren’t for me, you would never have met Robin Elder! When your aunt was raving like a maniac and threatening to take me to the police, I covered for you and I got in big trouble. And I came all the way here to give you this stupid e–mail and now you’re trying to cut me out of the loop.”

He gave Julian a look of contempt, then turned and walked out of the playground.

Julian stood under the gray sky, shaken. For a few moments, he’d thought Danny might be kidding, just playing the part of the Angry Friend. But by the time Danny reached the end of his speech, Julian realized he was serious. He had seen Danny get angry at other boys at school or even yell at total strangers, but the two of them never fought. Luciana would say in amazement, “You boys are such good friends. Always playing, never fighting. I wish I had a friend like that!”

He hadn’t been trying to cut Danny out, exactly. He wanted Danny to be part of Operation Redwood, but at the same time, part of him wanted to keep Huckleberry Ranch just for himself. He and Danny had been best friends since kindergarten and they’d shared everything—the same soccer teams, the same friends, the same teachers. Huckleberry Ranch was the only good thing he’d ever had all to himself.

If he went back with Danny, everything would be different. Danny could be so charming; maybe they’d like Danny better than him. Or worse, maybe they wouldn’t like Danny. And Julian couldn’t really picture Danny sitting quietly inside the circle of redwood trees.

His orange baseball cap was almost at the end of the block. Julian raced across the blacktop and past the gate and called Danny’s name as loud as he could. The Quantum counselor blew his whistle angrily and Julian stepped back inside the gate and called out again. Finally, Danny turned around and sauntered slowly back toward him.

“What?” he said scornfully. “Do you need help setting up your e–mail account?”

“Come on, Danny. Don’t be like that. Write Robin back. Please.”

“She’s your girlfriend. You can write her back in the privacy of your own home. Or wherever.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, you idiot. Come on. I didn’t mean anything. I can’t open my own account anyway. Daphne would probably pay someone to hack into it.”

He could tell Danny was relenting. “If I’m in, I’m in,” Danny said. “I don’t want you e–mailing behind my back. Writing little love notes.”

“You’re in. Come on! You’re my best friend. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even have gone up there. Write her back. Tell her I have to wait until my mom gets home. Then maybe we can figure out Operation Redwood.”

“Since you’re groveling, and since you’re stuck with the Evil Ones,” Danny said grudgingly, “I will take pity on you and oblige.”

Danny returned the next day with a print–out of his e–mail.