The first night, Sam and Noah and Courtney sleep on Jen’s couch under quilts.
The second night, they sleep down in the finished basement on new air mattresses.
Then Courtney finds an apartment in town.
It’s for the best. They can walk to school, and Courtney can park under the building, so they won’t have to shovel out the car.
Moving is gonna be great. Maybe. They collect empty cartons from the salon, the supermarket, the liquor store. After school, they drive back to the old house for their clothes and kitchen stuff. Every day they take a load to their new place.
The apartment is two bedrooms and one bath, and everything is pretty new. They have a dishwasher and that is huge. Sam has a tent. She sets it up on the carpet next to Noah’s bed.
She got it when Jen was cleaning her garage to find them some chairs. “Look at all this camping stuff,” said Jen.
“Can I have that?” Sam asked.
“Sam, that thing is filthy,” Courtney said, but Sam brushed off the leaves. Then Steve helped Sam vacuum it.
The tent is olive green with white mesh windows. You can sleep there and then sit up and get dressed for school in privacy. It’s like having your own house. Sam keeps her savings (seventy-three dollars) in the tent, along with her good markers and expensive drawing paper, her lollipops from the salon, and her china sheep, missing its front leg.
The apartment has wall-to-wall carpeting soft on your toes. They take off their shoes to keep it clean. What’s missing is a beech tree. They have a balcony, but it’s not big enough for anything. It’s a trade-off. Another trade-off is that Courtney has to take a second job to pay the rent. She works at Staples in the shopping plaza, and that means Afterschool.
“Look at these classes at the Y,” Courtney tells Sam.
“No way.”
The Y is practically for babies. Sam says, No, don’t make me go there, but Courtney signs up Sam for the Y, anyway, because who else can take Noah? “He can learn to swim,” Courtney says. “And look at all these classes for kids your age.” Sam can take photography or cooking or homework club—or climbing. “They have a climbing wall!”
“I know,” Sam says.
“You like climbing,” Courtney reminds her.
Sam says, “Not really.”
Courtney searches every box until she finds the climbing shoes Mitchell gave Sam a year ago. “I knew I packed these!”
“Mom, stop!” Sam says. “They don’t even fit.”
“They’ve got to fit by now.”
“No, they’re too small.”
“They can’t be,” Courtney says, but Sam is right. The shoes that used to be too big now pinch Sam’s toes. Sam throws them in the trash.
“Sam! Those are brand-new shoes! Maybe some other kid can use them.”
“They’re junk,” Sam says.
“Hey.” Her mom is about to scream I’ve had enough of you. But she does not. She just leans against the wall.
Sam doesn’t tell anybody she’s going to the Y. The first day of Afterschool, Sam picks up Noah from pre-K and rushes him outside so nobody her age will see them.
Noah says, “Ow! Sam!”
She slows down a tiny bit. It’s not his fault for being born. His hair is black, but his eyes are green. When Sam tells him something, he believes her. Right now, she tells him to pretend he is a spy escaping from prison, and he has to walk as softly as possible, or gorillas will catch him. “Hurry,” she whispers. “Don’t let the gorillas see you. Here, I’ll carry that.” She grabs his little backpack and together they rush down the hall and out the door. “Okay, we’re safe.”
Noah asks, “What if they’re hiding in the trees?”
He is a good brother, for his age.
At the Y, Sam takes Noah downstairs for lessons in the green chlorine pool where all the little kids are screaming. She hands him his bathing suit and towel, and she meets his teacher, and then she almost hides on the white bleachers, but everybody there is moms.
Slowly she walks up to the gym where more little kids are jumping, tumbling, and wrestling on gymnastics mats. There are only three big kids in climbing—a girl, a boy, and Sam.
The girl is tall with freckles and long, frizzy blond hair. Her jeans have a purple ink stain on the back pocket, and her name is Halle. The boy is her brother, Eric. He has red hair, and he wears glasses. Halle and Eric don’t go to Sam’s school. She has never seen them before, even though they also live in Beverly.
Eric looks around at the little kids. Then he asks Sam and Halle, “Are we the only people here?”
“I guess so.” It seems like Halle really doesn’t mind how babyish Afterschool is, even though she is nine and her brother is ten.
“Okay, everybody,” announces a YMCA teacher. “Little Tumblers, follow me. Climbers, follow Kevin.”
Halle, Sam, and Eric shuffle to the climbing wall. It’s a relief that Halle and Eric wear sneakers. Nobody has climbing shoes.
As soon as Kevin takes attendance, he makes a big deal out of Sam. “Hey, kiddo. You got so big I didn’t even recognize you. How’s your dad?”
“Good.”
“Say hi for me, okay? Who else we got here? Hailey?”
“Halle.”
“Gotcha. And Eric. Apart from Sam, has anybody climbed before?”
They stretch their arms and roll their shoulders and lunge and practice jumping jacks and talk about how safety is their number one priority. Kevin shows them the ropes and clips that he will use and explains how he will belay them. Climbing, they take turns, and Eric goes up first.
He is so awkward! Kevin is holding the rope below, so nothing bad will happen, but Eric is afraid. On the first footholds, he just stands there with his legs splayed out and looks over his shoulder.
“Okay, reach,” says Kevin. “Just reach over your head.”
Eric’s arms are long, but they won’t stretch.
“One step at a time, buddy. Try moving your left foot closer.”
“I can’t.”
“You won’t fall,” says Kevin. “I got you.”
“He’s afraid of heights,” Halle tells Sam as they watch from the mats. Eric could step down, but he acts like he’s hanging from a mountain by a thread.
“That’s better,” Kevin tells Eric. “A little more.”
Eric inches his left foot over. He’s getting ready to move that foot onto a new hold.
Halle rests her head on her knees and closes her eyes, but Sam keeps watching. He’s like a bug caught in a spiderweb.
When Eric makes it up partway, Kevin allows him to come down. Instantly, Eric opens his book and starts to read.
“There’s always a first time,” Kevin says.
Halle is next, and it’s her first time too, but she’s way better.
“Steady as she goes,” calls Kevin.
Halle is unafraid. She reaches with her long arms, and when she gets stuck, she listens to directions. Watching from below, Sam thinks, You’re pretty good—but why did you take the long way? You can swing across!
By the time it’s Sam’s turn, she is stiff and grumpy. Then Kevin says, “Let’s see if you remember what Dad taught you.”
Sam’s whole body tightens. She stares at Kevin’s tattooed fingers—L.O.V.E.—but doesn’t feel any.
“All set?”
She attacks the wall, jumping the first holds, climbing without stopping. She’s been watching long enough to memorize the route, so she swings across and pulls up in two seconds. When she makes it to the top, she doesn’t stop to enjoy it. She pushes off with both feet so she is dangling in midair.
“Whoa, whoa!” Kevin calls out, as Sam glides down.
Wide-eyed, Halle stares at her. Even Eric looks up from his book.
“You’re on fire!” Kevin says. “Where have you been practicing?”
Sam tells the truth. “No place.”