Special thanks to each person who contributed their time, insight, home, good looks, or French fries to the development of this book. Thanks in particular to my wife, Jenny, for bearing through my distraction toward writing, and also to (in no particular order) Colton Buermann, Karly White, Monique Love, Mark & Larissa Wardrip, Cherry Jensen (thanks, Mom!), Mark Lockwood, Gary & Rosemary Pointer, Miah Robert, Jamie Robert, Jonathan P. Grizzle, our local McDonald's, and the Market Diner at Pike Place Market in Seattle, Washington, where the fries are soft and flavorfully seasoned. May you ever enjoy the delights of rain, French fries, and the great outdoors.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Personal Note from the Author
About this Author
Chapter 1
A brown-haired boy in worn blue jeans and an orange T-shirt snuck the phonebook out of the drawer in the adult's bedside cabinet, glanced over his shoulder toward the door, and began turning pages. He flipped past maps and emergency phone numbers to lists of names beginning with A. He continued on to F, then located Fl, then Fle.
There it was, the name he was searching for—Fleming. His pulse quickened. It was really there! He traced a trembling finger down the list of Flemings: Aaron, Adam, Amanda, Anthony and Janelle… There were a lot of people named Fleming. He was looking for two in particular.
His finger slid further down the column, then stopped. His breath caught. "Fleming Craig and Kara," he whispered, his blue eyes going wide. They were real. They were alive. For several seconds the boy stared at their names, checked every letter, reading and rereading the single line. He sweated with excitement. They were alive!
Their address—Who knew you could find an address in a phonebook?—it was there, just as he had been told. 6050 Spindler Avenue. He had found their address! The boy almost whooped aloud for sheer joy.
A clatter of dishes being stacked in the kitchen startled him out of his concentration. He stuffed the phonebook back in its drawer and crept across the hallway into his own scantly-furnished bedroom. Footsteps vibrated the floor a moment later and shuffled into the bathroom. The bathroom door shut behind the feet.
The woman would be doing her makeup. He still had time. Tiptoeing back to the adult bedroom, he reclaimed the phonebook and found that name again—Fleming Craig and Kara. He whispered their address to himself—"6050 Spindler Avenue"—repeating it until he had it memorized.
Now to find it. There were maps at the front of the phonebook, and he found them again. They included a list of streets. He tracked down Spindler Avenue. It was surprisingly close to his school. He could be there in minutes once class let out. 6050 Spindler Avenue.
He envisioned how he would get there—right from the school, then left. No, he was thinking of his route from the wrong side of the school. Left from the school, then left again. The house would be somewhere on the next block…if it was a house. It might be an apartment, or maybe…a mansion! It could be a tent—he didn't care. He was going to find Craig and Kara Fleming, and that was all that mattered.
Breathing hard with anticipation, the boy set the phonebook in its drawer once more and hurried back to his room. When the woman emerged from the bathroom a minute later, he gathered up his backpack without being told and strode down the hall to the front door. She stood holding it open for him. Despite the momentous day—for both of them—she said nothing, but merely followed him to the car, started it up, and drove him to school. She would not miss him.
He would not miss her, either. She was fine—he did not dislike her. But she was insignificant now. Craig and Kara Fleming lived at 6050 Spindler Avenue. This afternoon, as soon as school was out, he would find them. This was going to be the most amazing day of his life.