"Yes! " I was annoyed. I had already told Mrs. Corrigan that, and besides, I didn't see what business it was of theirs, anyway.

"Uh, why don't I come over there for a while? Your dad is, uh, with your mother, uh. They didn't leave you a note?"

"Mr. Alden, what do you mean?" I asked. "If my father's with my mother, where are they?"

Another pause, but then he said, "I'm, uh, not sure, but your mom wasn't feeling too great. Ia think your dad took her to the doctor's."

He was lying. I could tell by his voice he was lying, that he knew they had gone to the hospital and that he probably knew I knew.

"Is she in the same hospital she was in before?" I said as calmly as I could manage, even though I felt as though I were going to cry.

"I'm not sure. Listen, Sarah, I'm coming over there right now. I'll be with you in a few minutes."

"No, I'm not going to be here," I lied. "I have a gymnastics show tonight, and I'm going over to my friend's house to practice. I'll just leave them a note."

"Are you sure that's all right?" he asked, but I thought I heard relief in his voice.

"I'm sure. I'm on my way right now."

"Would you give me the number at your friend's house?" Mr. Alden asked. "In case your dad calls, ora in casea" He didn't seem to know why he wanted Robin's number. I didn't know why, but I didn't want to give it to him, either. Therefore, I did something I'd never done before, and I did it as calmly as I had when I asked about the hospital. I gave him the wrong number. I used Robin's number but twisted the last two digits from 0-9 to 9-0. Then I said good-bye and hung up.

I sat down at the table, staring out the window, choking back tears. They had to be at the hospital, and it must have been an emergency because they'd never leave without writing me a note. Even the few times Mom had forgotten to leave me a note, she returned within a minute or two of the time I got in the house. And that night was the night of the gymnastics show, a show I had worked on for three whole months. n.o.body would be there to see me. Thinking that, thinking about the show and the other kids, I felt almost ashameda"embarra.s.sed, sort ofa"that I'd be the only kid in the show who wouldn't have parents there to watch. Then it came to me that I didn't care whether they came or not. I didn't even care if Mom was sick. But I decided not to tell anybody, not even Robin. I would just pretend they were out there somewhere. There'd be so many faces in the gym, that no one could tell who was there anyway.

The phone began ringing then, and I reached out to answer it, but then I realized that it might be Mr. Alden, checking to see whether or not I was really at Robin's. Because I didn't want him to come over, I let it ring for a long, long time.

FOR ABOUT AN HOUR, I STAYED IN THE HOUSE ALONE. THE phone rang about a jillion times, but I ignored it. I figured Mr. Alden had already called the wrong number I had given him and was trying to call me to get the right one. I realized, too, that it might be Mom or Daddy calling to tell me where they were. For some reason, I didn't want to talk to them, didn't want to find out what was happening. Also, I knew that even if Mom was back in the hospital, sooner or later Daddy would come home to me.

After about an hour, when it was beginning to get dark and still no one was there, I had to get out, away from the house completely. I put on my white shorts and shirt and the socks with the red b.a.l.l.s on them, put my sweat suit on top, then my ski jacket. It was still hours till the show, but I left for school, anyway. If the gym was open, I could practice till Robin got there, and that way I wouldn't have to wait around the house.

It was cold as I walked back to school, and I had forgotten my gloves. I thought of going back for them, but instead stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jacket. Thoughts were spilling around in my head. Mom was sick, really sick, and maybe this was bad, worse than last time.

No, remember she said just a few weeks ago that she thought she was going to beat this. She said so! She even said the doctors were surprised at how well she was doing. Then I thought about the gymnastics show. All that work, and she wasn't even going to be there to see it. If she really cared, she'd be there. Even though part of me knew that was ridiculous, that she couldn't help it if she was sick, part of me was mad at her too. And I couldn't help that either.

At school, I went around to the gym door. The lights were on inside, and I looked through the frosted gla.s.s, but I couldn't see any figures moving around. I pulled at the door, but it didn't budge. Then I tried the other one, but that didn't open either. Should I knock? If Mr. Anderson was there, wouldn't he want to know why I had arrived so early? I couldn't wait outside in the cold, though, so I knocked good and hard, but no one came.

I tugged at the doors again. The handle was metal and so cold that it felt as though my fingers would stick to it, the way wet fingers stick to ice-cube trays. I stuck my hand back in my pocket. What should I do? I could walk to Robin's house very slowly, trying to use up as much time as possible. Then the two of us could walk to school together.

I turned and started back to Robin's house. I counted steps, forcing myself to go slowly. One step, think of something, a line of a songa"yeah, one line with each step. "Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens." I recited the song as slowly as I could, the whole thing, one step at a time. But I was freezing, poking along like that, and when I looked at my watch, it was only five-fifteen.

I tried something different. The wind was blowing right in my face, but if I walked backward, it would be warmera"and it would take longer, too. I turned around and tried it. Again, one step for each line of the song. I chose another of my favorites. "The sun will come out tomorrowa"

It was taking too long, and I was shivering. And then I did it. Took another backward step and crashed right into a telephone pole. I rubbed my head and felt tears rushing to my eyes. I turned and began to run. I didn't care if I did get there too early. I ran all the rest of the way to Robin's house.

It was dark going up the walk, but I could see lights on at the back of the house. I rang the doorbell, and in a minute Robin opened the door. "Hey!" she said. "Where've you been? I've been calling you and calling you!"

"Oh, I, uh, took a walk. Went to school to see if the gym was open yet. But it's not."

"You want to come in?" Robin held the door wide, but she looked embarra.s.sed.

I tried to pretend I didn't notice her embarra.s.sment. I knewa"I've known Robin for so longa"I knew n.o.body went to her house. Whatever was wrong with her mother made it too hard for her to have anybody come visit. But I was too cold to stay outside any longer, so I said, "Yeah, okay."

"Who is it, Robin?" A voice called from the back of the house where the kitchen was.

"It'saSarah."

There was a long pause while Robin and I looked at one another, and I began to wish I hadn't gone there. I started to say I would leave, but Robin put one hand to her mouth, as though asking me to be quiet.

"Well, ask her in," Mrs. Harris said finally. "And for heaven's sake, shut the door."

"Yes, Mom." Robin took a deep breath and smiled at me. "It's okay," she whispered. "Come on in."

She led me down the hall and into the kitchen, where the light was on. Mrs. Harris was at the stove, her back to me, and she didn't turn around when I first came in. I felt so awkward. Should I say h.e.l.lo?

Robin took care of that by speaking first. "Mom, you know Sarah?"

Slowly Mrs. Harris turned around. At first, all I noticed was how much she resembled Robin or how Robin resembled hera"those same great big, wide eyes. But the next thing I noticed was that she seemed terrified, and from the way she was looking at me, it seemed as though I was the one she was afraid of. I felt as though I should turn away from her, to make her stop being scared, so I stared down at the floor and said, "h.e.l.lo, Mrs. Harris."

"h.e.l.lo, Sarah," she said. Her voice was sweet and didn't sound as scared as she looked. "You must be frozen," she said after a minute.

I nodded, still afraid to look at her.

"Would you likea some hot chocolate?"

"Oh, no," I said. "That's okay."

"Why not?" she asked.

It seemed such a funny question, I couldn't help looking up at her, surprised. "Ia I don't know. I mean, I just don't want you to go to any trouble."

She didn't answer, but she turned back to the stove and reached to a cabinet above and got some cocoa.

"Mom, I'm going to get dressed for the show, okay?" Robin asked.

Still without turning around, Mrs. Harris nodded. "And when you're ready, I'll have some hot chocolate ready."

"Thanks, Mom." Robin went to her mom and kissed her. Something about the way she hugged her mom close made me think that Robin was the mother and her mom was the child. Robin even smoothed her mother's hair away from her face a little, the way Mom does so often to mine.

I realized I was staring at them when Robin turned back to me. "Let's go to my room," she said. She spoke quietly, not the way she does at school or at my house.

In her room, I said, "Your mom's a nice lady."

Robin was getting her shorts on, and she didn't look up, but she nodded. "Yeah, she is."

"Robin." I said it quickly, unsure if I should, never having done it before, but I wanted to know. "Robin, what's the matter with your mom? I mean, I know you told me once that she's depressed, buta"

"Shush!" Robin put a finger over her lips, and she glanced quickly at the door.

I looked, too, but no one was there, and Robin went to the door and very quietly closed it. "Do you know what agoraphobia is?" she said.

I shook my head. "I couldn't even say it."

"It means fear of open s.p.a.ces, fear of going outside. That's what my mom's afraid of. Actually, she's afraid of lots of other things too, even people coming to the house. But she's getting better. I told you about her medicine, and she's seeing a doctor." She paused, as though debating something, then added, "She was really trying to see if she could go to the gymnastics show tonight. But I don't know if she will. It's so scary for her."

"Wow! Really? You mean she's scared just to go out of the house?"

I must have sounded shocked, because Robin looked at me, annoyed. "Yeah, and it's not her fault! Think how bad she must feel."

"Oh, I know. I meana" I didn't, but I realized it was hard for Robin. Her life's always been so different from everyone else's. She's never been able to have anyone visit her, and her mom never attended any of the school events. "Do you think she'll be there tonight?" I asked.

Robin shrugged. "I don't know. She seems more scared tonight than she has before, possibly just because she's thinking about it. But when my father comes home, maybe. Who knows?" She shrugged, then smiled at me the way she usually did, with that half-laughing, half-teasing look. "But we're going to be great, so it doesn't matter."

"Yeah," I said. "Yeah." But I knew it mattered to her a lot.

"Robin?" It was Mrs. Harris, calling from the kitchen.

Robin opened the door quickly. "Coming, Mom."

Together, Robin and I went down the hall to the kitchen. A plate of cookies was on the table, as well as two mugs of hot chocolate. There were marshmallows floating in the cups, and steam was rising from them. I realized then how hungry I was. I had forgotten to eat! We smiled at each other and sat down. "Thanks, Mom!" Robin called. But Mrs. Harris wasn't in the kitchen, and she didn't answer.

BY THE TIME ROBIN AND I GOT BACK TO SCHOOL AT SIX o'clock, the gym was open. I had a feeling that Robin knew something was wrong at my house, but she didn't ask and I didn't say anything. I was thankful, though, that she hadn't asked. It's always been that way with Robin and me. She seems to know when we can talk about things really personal and when not to ask.

In the gym we stripped off our sweat suits and began doing warm-ups. I felt good, and my muscles were loose. Something was building inside me, a feeling that I wanted to do something dramatic, really show-offy. Why I wanted to do it, I wasn't sure, but I did. I thought about chinning off the bar the way Robin had done that day and wondered again if she had forgotten it.

We finished our warm-ups and began rehearsing the rope routine. When we were way up near the ceiling, I looked at Robin. "Robin," I asked, "are you going to chin off the bar the way you did that other time?"

Robin laughed. "Funny you thought about that right now. I was thinking the same thing."

"Going to do it?"

Robin paused for a minute. "Depends."

"On what?"

"Don't know. Things."

"Like what?"

"Just things. Don't bug me."

I looked at her, surprised. Robin never tells me to mind my own business. "Sorry," I said, just a little sarcastically. "Don't be so touchy."

"Well, I just don't know, that's all." She looked away and up at the bar. "Just depends."

And just like that, I knew what it depended on. It depended on whether or not her mother was there, but I didn't know whether she was going to do it if her mother was there or if her mother wasn't there. I also knew I shouldn't ask.

We shimmied down the ropes then and ran to get the mats for our floor routines. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes while we tugged the mats into place. All the time I was wondering what I could do that would be dramatic, that would really show off. If it couldn't be chinning off the bar, it had to be something else, maybe a forward midair flip. I had never done it beforea"Robin and I were each going to do a backward one in our floor routinea" and I didn't think I could learn it that fast. In a forward flip, you have to get really high off the floor, almost as high as you can get by springing on a trampoline. The trampoline! That was it! I wasn't scheduled for the trampoline, but I bet I could do it. I looked over. It was set up in the other part of the gym, across from where the ropes were. Maybe after Robin and I finished our rope routine and just before we were to climb down, if I swung my rope really far out, I could drop on the trampoline? I tried to measure with my eyes. I thought I could reach. Maybe. I'd have to check.

"Oh, Sarah?"

Robin was standing on the mat, watching me, waiting for me.

"Oh, hey," I said. "I'm sorry." I bent and did the first rollover of our routine. "I was thinking."

"About what?" Robin asked.

I grinned at her from my upside down position. "Something."

She grinned back. "We have lots of secrets tonight, don't we?"

I laughed, but I didn't feel good about it. We worked hard then, practicing our routines over and over. We didn't need much practice because we were as perfect as two people can be with our routine. I know that sounds stuck-up, but it was true. After we had practiced for a while, some of the other kids began arriving, and even some of the parents. Since most of the gym was filled with gymnastics equipment, there was s.p.a.ce for only a few rows of chairs around the edges. Most of the parents would have to stand, so a lot of them were getting there early. I took a quick look at the arriving parents, just in case Mom and Daddy were there, but they weren't. Thinking about them, watching the other parents come in, I felt a lump in my throat and swallowed hard. But I didn't begin to cry.

Robin and I went to the lavatory then to wash up and get ready. Standing in front of the mirror and combing my hair, I saw Robin watching me, and I smiled. We don't look at all alike. I'm kind of tall and blonde, and she's little and dark, but we did look really good dressed alike in our red-and-white outfits. We both had our hair done the same way, too, pinned up at the sides with the back hanging loose. It would have been better to have it in a pony tail, but then the knot on the back of the head would get in the way when we did backward rollovers. Robin smiled at me in the mirror. "Ready?"

"Ready."

We went out to the gym and took our places with the rest of the kids. There was a special section set up for partic.i.p.ants, and we all sat down together. There was also a special place for little kids because a kindergarten cla.s.s had been invited to do the first part of the show. I guess they didn't have a big enough gym in their own school. I took one more quick look for Mom and Daddy and for Robin's parents too, but I didn't see any of them.

At exactly seven-thirty, Mr. Anderson went to the front of the gym and made his speech about how hard we had worked and all that, and then there was a song and the show began. The little kids went first, and they were fun to watch. There was one tiny one, and she was great on the balance beam. Everybody cheered her, and then, for some reason, she broke into tears. Then people cheered her even more, and eventually she smiled and finished her routine. Robin and I smiled at each other.

Our cla.s.s came next, and then it was almost time for Robin and me. We exchanged looks, and suddenly, even though I knew we were as perfect as we could be, I started to get nervous. What if we made a mistake? What about the trampoline? What about Mom and Daddya"had they come in while I was sitting there? I wanted to turn and look for them, but I didn't because maybe they weren't there. I wondered about Robin's mom too, and I noticed Robin twisting around every so often, but I didn't ask if she had seen her.

Finally, when Julia began her routine, Robin and I knew it was our turn next. We went up and took our places out front, ready to go on. I saw Robin glance once more over the crowd, but I didn't look anywhere except at Julia. When she did the rollover that marked the end of her routine, my stomach felt like a knot in my middle. I looked at Robin, but she seemed cool, and that helped. I took a deep breath.

People applauded Julia, and then Robin and I ran out on the mat. We had rehea.r.s.ed everything, even the way we would run out: hand in hand, then doing a twisting handspring in the center of the mat. As we did it, I heard the audience suck in their breaths, and we got instant, spontaneous applause. Robin grinned and winked at me. I was definitely less nervous. We ran to the ropes then. Up like a pair of monkeys, swing hard, exchange ropes. We had done it so often for so many months that I didn't even have to think. Flip over, hang down, dangling by our legs held tight around the ropes. Swing upside down, reach over, clasp hands. The audience was applauding at each new thing, but I heard it only dimly. Robin and I had our eyes glued to each other, marking each move, each bit of timing. We straightened up finally, marking the end of our rope routine. The floor routine was next, but first the descent. I paused for just an instant. Would Robin swing out over the bar, that slippery metal bar that supported the ropes? Should I try the trampoline descent? How far was it? I was aware that Robin had paused too, that even the audience was silent. I looked at Robin, then looked down. Every eye in the place was turned up, watching us, Daddy smiling, Mom biting her lip. Mom! Daddy! Mom was in a wheelchair near the back door, a wheelchair! But she was there. I looked at Robin. She reached out and took my hand. We had never done this before, but together we shimmied down, holding hands.

I knew there were tears in my eyes, but happy tears, sad tears, it didn't matter. I blinked them away fast. "Oh, please, please, let Robin's mom be here, please!" I prayed silently.

On the mat, we swung into our routine, fast, smooth. First the backward walkover, then the two-person roll, leaping over and over each other, as in leapfrog. That brought loud applause. Splits, cartwheels, two-handed walkovers, and then our finalea" the midair backward flips. First mine, Robin standing close by, hands out to support my back if I fell. But I didn't. And then hers, me spotting her for safety. Perfect. We swept to one knee, hands clasped, in a deep bow. The audience roared. And then they all stood up, and for the first time, Robin and I lost our cool. Neither of us had expected a standing ovation. We looked at each other, and I could see tears forming in Robin's eyes and feel them in my own. We both smiled at everybody and whispered, "Thank you." And then we ran off the floor and fled to the lavatory.

"SHE'S THERE!" ROBIN EXCLAIMED WHEN WE GOT TO THE lavatory.

"I know," I answered, wiping tears from my eyes, feeling stupid for crying.

"My father was holding her hand tight, and she looked terrified. But she was there!"

For a second I was confused. Her father was holding my mother's hand? I looked at Robin, and she was wiping away tears, too, and then I realized what she meant. Her mother was out there! Her mother and my mother. And both of our fathers.

We looked at each other in the mirror then, both of us scrubbing away tears, and then we began to laugh. We laughed so hard that we had to lean back against the wall to catch our breaths. "Now, are we stupid or are we stupid?" I asked at last when we had recovered enough to speak. "Crying because we're happy!"

"Yeah." Robin took a deep, shaky breath. "Imagine what we'd be like if we were sad."

That started both of us laughing again helplessly, but after a while we stopped, although we both giggled again every once in a while. Then we washed our faces and smoothed our hair. Robin bent way over, flipped her hair up over her head, and ran her fingers through it. While she was bent over like that, she said, "Why's your mom in a wheelchair?"

I looked at her, but couldn't see her face. "You saw her?" I said slowly.

"Yeah. What's the matter with her?"

"I don't know," I answered. It was all I could say. I didn't know and couldn't have talked about it even if I did.