No Passengers Beyond This Point(23)

Without me saying anything, my dad look-alike replays it over and over again.

I’m not sure how many times I watch, before I finally pull myself away. Then we play basketball one on one until it gets dark. On the way inside I thank him for everything, then explain it’s time to go home.

“Home?” he asks.

“To Uncle Red’s then,” I whisper miserably.

“You’re sure?”

“Look, Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is. I need to know what’s going on here.”

He smiles at this as if I’ve just given the answer to a difficult question. Together we walk to the center fireplace room, where he pushes a small button with a question mark. Within seconds a loudspeaker blares overhead. “Finn Tompkins, please step to the white courtesy phone. Finn Tompkins, white courtesy phone.”

I head for the wall, pick out the icon with the white phone, and press it. As soon as it lights up, the court moves off on its track and a new room arrives. This room is small with a simple wooden alcove and a comfortable overstuffed armchair. In front of the chair is a white phone with no buttons, just a smooth dial-less face.

“Finn Tompkins . . . the white courtesy phone,” the loudspeaker voice urges.

I pick up the phone. “Hello?”

“Finn Tompkins?” the computerized voice asks.

“Yes.”

“Sparky would like to see you.”





CHAPTER 11

INDIA’S CAT

I’m used to knowing more than everyone else on account of Bing. He has in some knee-a, you know. You can find out a lot of things when you’re awake at night.

In the morning Bing tells me what he learned the night before.

Sometimes he wakes me up so I can hear too. Once I heard Mommy on the phone. She said she didn’t know if Maddy was the worst thing to happen to India or the best.

She should have asked me. I know all about Maddy. She stole Mommy’s engagement ring. Mommy says I could have been “mistaken” and I’m supposed to stop talking about this, but Bing is never mistaken. Maddy and India were doing homework on the computer, and India went to make popcorn, which is the only food Maddy will eat at our house on account of Mommy won’t buy junk food.

While India was gone, Maddy opened Mommy’s jewelry box. She took the ring out.

The next week Mommy said her engagement ring was gone.

Mommy said maybe Maddy put it back when I didn’t see. But then why was it gone after that? Mommy talked to Maddy and Maddy’s mom about it. Maddy’s mom said I was “a fanciful child.”

Maddy has another name for me. She calls me Demon Child.

Mommy got her ring back after that. A few weeks later it appeared in her jewelry box again. Then Mommy told India and me we aren’t allowed to talk about it anymore. We just hate each other in the quiet now.

Bing got more facts about Falling Bird too. He found out that this mom lady is a rental. He thinks there are rental dads and rental dogs too. Bing said it will be hard for India to leave Falling Bird. He also said her cat doesn’t like her very much. Bing said Finn is figuring out how the whole place works. Finn has to know stuff. He’s like me!

Bing said it wasn’t so bad here. It was fun to see all the good things about his life on the big screen.

He said we might want to stay.

But I don’t want to change moms for good.





CHAPTER 12

THE RUMBLING

When I wake up, the sun is shining through the window, and I can smell waffles and hot chocolate. I stay tucked into the soft sheets, basking in the coziness, until my cool mom comes in.

“Good morning, India. Did you sleep okay?” she asks.

I don’t answer. I don’t have to. My cool mom totally gets how I feel. She doesn’t say much and she hasn’t mentioned one single rule either. Moms are okay when they keep their mouths shut. My cool mom gets stuff like this. She totally does.

“It’s been great getting to know you,” she says. “I like how enthusiastic you are about everything.”

“Really? My real mom says I have a bad attitude and I’m not enthusiastic about anything.”

“You just like different things than she does.”

“How do you know me so well?”

“Sparky gives us a lot of information. And I kind of get you. You remind me of me when I was your age.”

I scoot myself up, propping my back with the biggest pillow like we’re going to have a girlfriend talk—the kind I never have with my real mom.

But a rumbling begins low in the building like somebody turned on a forced air heater down on the first floor. It’s a slight vibration that builds to a shaking motion as if I’m standing next to the tracks when a train flies by.

“What is that?” I ask as the bed begins to rock like a cradle, but I’m not a baby and I don’t like it.