Heartdrum Brochure

Page 33

Flying Together

before you know it,” I said, trying to convince myself. Fritz’s whimpering had turned into a bark. It echoed through the house. I looked around. The house was already so empty, and Mom hadn’t even left the driveway. Her Wichita and Affiliated Tribes mug sat on the kitchen countertop—empty too. I wasn’t sure how I could get through another three months without her. Mom being late wasn’t an option, and I’d had it with that little dog. I put on my coat and gloves and marched him right into the backyard. He ran to the fence, where he stood peering through the slats, sniffing and snorting like a miniature bull as Mom and Grandpa Lou finished loading the truck. “Get to it, mister,” I said, jumping up and down, trying to generate heat. Then I went back inside so that I could give him some privacy and unthaw my frozen toes. Ten seconds later, I heard a scratch at the back door. Did he really do his business that fast? Goofy dog. As we left our neighborhood in the Oklahoma City suburbs, porch lights glowed while everyone else was still sleeping. On the highway, we passed lit-up fast-food restaurants, frost-covered trees, then Frontier City Theme Park. Under an inky morning sky, the Ferris wheel was all aglow in flashing changing colors. Red. Blue. Green. Yellow.

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