Chapter Twenty

“I thought you hated skateboarding,” Adam said. His head was bent low over his board as he adjusted the wheels.

“I do. I mean, I did.”

“So, why do you want to go?”

“That’s all you do now. We never go exploring anymore.”

“This is more fun,” he said. “All you did was draw flowers and stuff while I climbed trees by myself.”

“I did that too!”

“Ha! Only if I pulled you up the tree,” he laughed.

“Stop teasing me!” Alex frowned.

“Sorry. You can go, okay?”

“Okay.”

“But you’re not gonna like it,” he muttered, expertly flipping his board upright. “Skateboarding is higher on the scare-o-meter than climbing trees. Higher than roller coasters, too.”

Alex gulped.

At the Halifax Commons skatepark, she watched in awe as Adam did amazing tricks, each higher and faster than the last. He really was fearless, she thought.

“All right, sis, you’re up.”

“Give me your helmet!”

He laughed and handed it over. She pulled the strap on the helmet as tight as it would go. Everyone was watching her.

“Get on and I’ll push you around a bit so you can get used to the feel of it.”

“Okay.”

Alex stared at the skateboard. She willed her feet to move. They didn’t. Seconds, then minutes, ticked by. The others got tired and returned to their boards, flying around her.

“C’mon, sis, you can do it. Don’t be scared. I’m right here.”

“All right, all right, don’t rush me!” Alex put her right foot on the back end of the skateboard and shifted her weight to that same foot, like she was stepping onto a stair.

“Not on the tail—”

“Ahh!”

The skateboard flipped up and Alex lost her balance. She would have been sprawled on the pavement if Adam hadn’t grabbed her.

“Gotcha!”

Laughter erupted around her. She felt her face flush.

“It’s all right,” he whispered in her ear. “Ignore them. I’ll teach you when no one’s around to tease you, okay? Watch, I’ll show them a new trick. Then they’ll forget all about laughing at you.”

He grabbed the board and zipped off.

“Wait, your helmet…” Alex tugged at the strap, but he was gone.

“Stupid law anyway,” he shouted back to her. “It’s more fun without it!”

Alex watched as Adam set up for a jump. He had on a grey hoodie with an anime skateboarder on the back, baggy jeans, and blue sneakers—skate shoes, he called them.

He was flying towards her. He let out a loud whoop and leapt off the board into the air…

Alex opened her eyes, a tear trickling onto her cheek. The familiar dream was fading along with the achingly real sound of Adam’s whoop of excitement. Alex lay there, wishing she could turn back time and fix everything, like they did in science fiction movies. Fix Adam, fix her parents…fix herself.

Sunlight was streaming through the window and a rumbling sound filled the air. She lay still, cocooned in her comforter in the cool early morning. Turning her head, she discovered the source of the mysterious noise. Two bright green eyes surrounded by orange fur were six inches from her face.

“Morning, Marty,” she sniffed, reaching over to pat the chubby tabby snuggled by her side. The engine sound got louder as Marty purred and closed his eyes, his long tail swishing back and forth.

If only a pat on the head was all that people needed too, Alex thought, rubbing her eyes with her other hand. Cats were cool. She had wanted one ever since she could remember. When she and Adam were ten, her parents had said they could get a pet. But they’d argued so much about whether to get a dog or a cat that they had ended up with neither.

Alex reached under her pillow, pulling out her brother’s picture. She stared at Adam’s smiling face. He had been so mad at her. He didn’t care that she was terrified of dogs. He didn’t care about the reason, either—that Spike had attacked her in first grade.

She shivered, her arms exploding instantly in tiny goosebumps. Spike was the gigantic German shepherd her neighbours kept chained in their yard. Alex never knew why, but he would run towards her every time she walked by, almost choking on his chain as he jumped and snarled. He didn’t do it to anyone else. One particular day, he broke free and chased her down the street. She tripped and he jumped on her back, ripping her new blue coat and biting her ear.

Adam blamed her when they took Spike away, saying that he only barked at her because she was a chicken and that Spike had sensed her fear and was just being a dog. “You’re afraid of everything,” he’d said. That’s when he’d started calling her a wuss.

Alex used to think he was being mean when he teased her. Now, it was just one more thing she felt guilty about. “Sorry you never got your puppy dog,” she whispered.

Carefully, she lifted the tabby out of her way and slid off the bed, then put him back. Marty immediately curled up on the vacated pillow, snuggling into the depression Alex’s head had made.

“You’re lucky to be a cat. Being a person is way too hard.” Marty blinked his already half-closed eyes at her and flipped the tip of his tail. A second later, he was asleep.

Alex tugged the window all the way open and stuck her head out. Dew glistened on the grass and a wispy mist hung low to the ground. Aunt Sophie’s chickens were already making the rounds. Four fluffy yellow chicks were clucking below her window, following in a straight line behind their mom.

The smell of fresh coffee drifted down the hall. Aunt Sophie must be up. Alex changed into shorts and a T-shirt. As she brushed her teeth, she pulled back the bandage on her forehead to inspect her wound. Near her hairline, there was an angry red gash with zigzag stitches surrounded by a wicked dark purple bruise—ick! But at least she didn’t have a headache this morning, and the goose egg was gone.

She peeled the old bandage with its smear of dried blood the rest of the way off and tossed it in the garbage. Rooting through the pile of supplies from the hospital, she gingerly cleaned her cut, and put on a fresh, smaller bandage. So close to her hairline, it was now barely visible.

Aunt Sophie was alone in the kitchen watering her plants. She was wearing cut-off jean shorts and a wild multicoloured tank top, with her long blonde hair pulled back in a loose braid. There was a tiny tattoo of a star on her back peeking out above the rim of her top. A copper, hand-painted watering can sat at her feet.

Alex could hear her whispering as she plucked dead blooms from the African violets perched on the windowsill.

“Are you talking to the plants?”

Aunt Sophie jumped, bumping the can. Water splashed over the rim. “Good grief, don’t scare me like that! I thought you were still in bed.”

“Where is everyone?”

“Your mom’s still sleeping. And your dad must have stayed in Digby last night.”

“That’s weird. Mom’s always up before me.” She gazed out the window. Why hadn’t her dad come? Guess she couldn’t blame him, really. He probably didn’t like the constant fighting either.

“I don’t think she slept much last night.”

“Oh.” Alex knew what that was like. She scanned the table. “Are those Eva’s ham and cheese rolls?”

“Yup, she dropped off a pile of baking yesterday before we came home. She’s such a doll. Addicted already, huh?”

Alex pursed her lips but didn’t answer. “Can I try some?” she asked, pointing to the coffeepot.

“Sure, a small one. But you probably won’t like it.” Aunt Sophie dumped a handful of the dead blooms into the organic waste. “It’s a bit of an acquired taste.”

Alex pulled a mug from the cupboard and halffilled it with coffee. She topped it up with cream and two heaping teaspoons of sugar. With hardly a pause, she took a big drink.

“Aha, not your first cup of java, I see.”

Alex shrugged sheepishly. “There’s a coffee shop across from school.”

“Something your mother doesn’t know, I’m sure,” Aunt Sophie said as she plucked more dead blooms.

“What don’t I know?”

Her mother stood at the foot of the stairs. She was still in her nightgown and her hair looked like a tangled bird’s nest. “That had better not be coffee.”

“Umm…”

“Nice supervision there, sis!” Her mother poured herself a cup and sat at the table.

“She’s not a baby, Colleen. Anyway, I told her she could try a taste.”

“A taste? She hangs out at the coffee shop across from her school every day. She’s probably drunk more coffee than you have.”

Alex sputtered her mouthful back into her mug. “You know about that?”

Her mother raised her eyebrows. “You think I’ve never seen you run back across the street when I come to pick you up?”

“No.”

“Yeah, I know…definition of a mother—deaf, dumb, and blind,” she muttered. Then she glanced at the basket of baked goodies in the middle of the table. “Who are you and what have you done with my disaster-in-the-kitchen of a sister?”

“Hey!” Aunt Sophie protested. “I can bake.”

“Really? Is this the same sister who started a fire in home ec class that shut the entire school down for a week?”

“Oh, that.” She waved a dismissive hand at Alex’s mother. “Totally not my fault. Those ovens were from the dark ages. I’m pretty sure they found it was something electrical—a short or whatever.”

“Uh-huh.”

While her mother was distracted, Alex gulped down another mouthful, savouring the rich flavour. It was way better than the coffee shop stuff.

“Enjoy it, Alex—that’s your one and only.”

Rats! Her mother didn’t miss much…when she bothered to pay attention. Alex plunked down on a chair and loaded a plate with Eva’s delights.

A car door slammed.

Her mother twitched in her chair, as though someone had poked her. Aunt Sophie was clutching a handful of dead flowers, her eyes glued to her sister.

That must be Dad, Alex thought. Where had he been all night?