Page 10 of Finding Noah

“I know you don't get it right now. And, believe me, I know how hard this is. I don't want to leave Grandma and Grandpa either,” Mom said, and it sounded like she was going to cry. “I love their house. It was my house too—way longer than it was yours. But that town, Noah … it's poison.”

“Says who?” I asked, and I thought about that kid. I heard his voice in my head, and I swallowed hard, trying to chase him far, far, far away.

“You'll get it one day.”

“No, I won't,” I argued.

“I promise you, you will.”

Mom had made promises before, like when she promised I'd like school. She promised I'd have fun. She promised I’d make friends. I guessed it wasn't her fault that none of those things had happened, but she had promised. And when I hadn't liked school or made friends, somehow, it’d felt like it was her letting me down.

So, why should I believe her now, when she said that, one day, I would understand why she had ripped me away from everything I had ever known?

What if the new town was full of poison too?

***

“There you are!”

A lady ran over to us as soon as we climbed out of Mom's car. Her body was big and round, but her legs were short and skinny, like a ball balancing on sticks. She reminded me of The Penguin in Batman Returns, and I knew laughing at someone's body wasn't nice, but I almost couldn't help it.

“Hi, Mayor Fischer,” Mom said, reaching out to shake the lady's hand.

Her bright red lips stretched into a smile as she replied, “Oh, please, honey, call me Connie.”

Mom seemed nervous as she laughed and nodded. “Okay, Connie.”

Connie held Mom's hand between both of hers. She was short, shorter than Mom, and she looked up into Mom's eyes with a huge smile on her face.

It was weird.

Then, abruptly, she turned to me, dropped both of Mom's hands, and reached her arms out to me.

“And this must be Noah!” She placed both hands on my shoulders and squeezed. “What a handsome young man you are. What grade are you in?”

I dropped my eyes so I didn't have to look at her smiling red lips. “Uh …”

“He's in second grade,” Mom said, helping me out when my brain obviously wasn't working.

“Oh, so that makes you, what? Eight? Nine?”

“E-eight,” I answered. “My birthday is in June.”

“A summer birthday!” Connie exclaimed with so much excitement. “Oh, I bet that's great for parties, huh?”

I didn’t say anything. Because the truth was, I’d never had a birthday party. Not really anyway.

I’d never been invited to one either.

I looked at Mom instead, hoping she’d make this lady stop talking to me—and she did.

“Um, so you said rent is due the first Monday of every month?” Mom asked, turning to look at the little house we stood in front of.

And that was when I looked at it for the first time. Like, really looked.

It was small, almost rectangular in shape. There was a tiny porch in front and a little garden next to the stairs. It was painted an ugly gray color, but the house itself wasn’t ugly.

It actually looked kind of nice.