I could take it out and read it-again-but if I turn on the overhead light, it’ll wake Daddy up.ĭaddy snores lightly, almost like a purr, in the seat beside me. Inside, along with my Firefly Girls sash, a jacket, and some other stuff, is my favorite book, My Side of the Mountain. Thinking of home reminds me of the things in the backpack by my feet. Like our old neighborhood and our little house. I gaze back out the window at the headlights of cars ticking by at the warm yellow porch lights glowing outside of houses in the neighborhoods we pass. He has his best friend, Ted the stuffed shark, tucked under his chin.
I can just see the tips of his sneakers peeking out from under the blanket. It’s just an old red blanket he won’t give up without pitching a royal fit, so we pretend it gives him superpowers, especially when his asthma is bad. His red superhero cape is spread across his body. She seems nice.Īcross the aisle, my little brother, Dylan, sleeps with his head in Mama’s lap.
Well, except for the driver, but I can’t see her anyway. To tell you the truth, I think I’m the only person on the entire bus who’s awake. Cornstalks and stubble throw long shadows across the ground. I rest my head against the cold window of the Country-Wide bus, watching the world go by.
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