It was late Friday afternoon, almost dark. Siria huddled on the fire escape with Laila from the sixth floor, her purple wool scarf pulled over her chin. They leaned against the brick wall, Laila’s WIPE YOUR FEET mat pulled over their heads like a roof.
“What luck!” Laila said. “All this snow. No school until after the holidays.”
Siria nodded. She didn’t mind school the way Douglas did. He liked to be moving around, building things. And learning was hard for Laila in her special class down the hall. But during the holidays, Siria missed art and math, and her friends: Patti, who played the guitar, and Jilli, who drew wonderful pictures.
Too bad they all lived in different directions. Siria wouldn’t see them until after New Year’s. Sometimes they texted, but they usually forgot during the holidays.
Siria looked up at the gray sky now. “My twelfth birthday on New Year’s Day!”
Laila nodded slowly. She took time to think about what people said; she took even longer to answer.
Siria grinned. Laila looked a little like an owl, with her glasses sliding down her nose and her mouth popped open to catch a snowflake.
“We’ll see Canis Major, and Sirius, my star.” Siria peered through the narrow spaces in the rusty fire escape. Blocks away were the white sledding hills and the creek that wound its way around them, a thin thread of water that had iced over.
Last summer, she and Douglas had spent days leaning against the picnic house, the creek in front of them with its overhanging branches. Tiny silver fish darted along the edge, and turtles the size of dinner plates sunned themselves on the rocks.
They’d built a sloppy wooden raft even though their feet touched the bottom. They’d stuck their heads in a pipe that hung out over the water, almost hidden in the long, reedy weeds. “Hello in there!” they’d called, their voices echoing back at them.
And they’d fished! Weeks of fishing, but there probably hadn’t been anything big enough to catch since Pop was a boy.
Now, Jason, the delivery boy, and Mike, who followed him around, slid along on the frozen creek. They’d better hope the ice was solid.
“I know what you want for your birthday,” Laila said. “A huge family, like Douglas’s. That’s what I want, too.”
Siria nodded. Douglas, with his four brothers and a mom who made gallons of steaming cocoa on cold days for all the kids in the building.
“That family on TV,” Laila added dreamily. “A mother, a father, a couple of kids, and even a horse.”
And today was the beginning. A knife lay on the fire escape between them—not sharp, but it would have to do.
“Aunts. Uncles. Cousins,” Laila said.
“You and I can join up to make a family,” Siria said. “You have the mother, I have the father. We’ll be the start of the kids. Douglas can be the brother. Too bad about the horse, though. It would never fit in the elevator.”
Laila smiled. “I always wanted a horse.”
Siria glanced up at the sky. “I’ve always wanted a dog. I’d carry her in my backpack. You’d never feel alone if you had a pet like that.” She picked up the butter knife and slashed at her index finger. Not hard enough; no blood, not even a mark. She raised the knife again and plunged.…
Yeow.
She’d stabbed the edge of her boot. That didn’t dent, either. “Wait.” She pulled off her Christmastree pin. “We’ll just use this.”
“Right above my alley,” Laila said.
“Up my alley,” Siria said absently. They kept poking their thumbs but couldn’t dredge up a bit of red. They stuck their hands together anyway. “Blood sisters,” Siria said.
Just then, the noises began. They grinned at each other. The Byars in 5-D were fighting again. Plates would fly like Frisbees, glasses shattering.
It was as good as watching TV.
They raced down the fire escape, holding the ice-covered railing. Too bad Almo the super hadn’t bothered with de-icer. How would Mrs. Gold, the old lady in 2-C, escape in an emergency?
Now came the tricky part.
On the fifth-floor landing, Siria slid onto the railing. With Laila holding her feet, she balanced herself on her stomach. It was very uncomfortable, but a prime way to watch Mr. and Mrs. Byars.
Mrs. Byars was gorgeous, with blond hair to her waist and bulging arm muscles; she was six feet tall, at least. And Siria wanted to be just like her.
Wait. She saw something interesting in 5-E next door. Siria wiggled out a little farther.
“Careful,” Laila warned her.
Siria felt herself falling. “Help!” she yelled, and scrambled back.
A plate smashed, just missing the window and Mr. Byars. He ducked out of the way and peered outside. “It’s those kids again!” he yelled to Mrs. Byars, forgetting she was trying to kill him.
Laila dragged Siria off the railing, and they raced back up to the sixth floor, sliding on the icy steps.
Siria sank down. “You will not believe what I just saw.” She stopped for a breath. “The Wilsons must be moving out of Five-E. Most of the furniture is gone. But …”
She stopped, shook her head.
“That stray dog is in there, big as a wolf. He stared out the window at me, trying to scrabble outside. Whew. That would have been the end of me.”
Laila poked at her glasses. “You’re safe now. We just have to hope Mr. Byars doesn’t tell our parents. My mother will have a heart attack if she knows I’m out here.”
Siria pointed. “And your mother’s coming up the avenue right now.”
“See you.” Laila ducked inside her window.
Siria made her way up one flight to her apartment. The day was really cold and getting windy.
She took a last look at the avenue. Far down, where the empty lots began, she could see the old shed Pop had helped build years ago. “This was a clubhouse when I was a teenager,” he’d said, laughing. “We didn’t know what we were doing. We all had splinters. The walls were crooked. I can’t believe it’s still standing.”
Siria looked closer. Was it on fire?
Yes, maybe!