pens like that. Everyone’s upset about the same thing. I
got dozens of letters.”
Karin nodded. She might have stayed annoyed at Lane
if she hadn’t been so delighted to discover the woman renting the house next door was Roxie. “I can’t believe that
Roxie lives next door to me. I can’t wait to tell everyone.”
“Do you have to? I’m really no good at giving advice
in person. People always wind up disappointed when they
find out I’m the one who writes the letters.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. You want me to lie?”
“No. Unless—is not telling the same as a lie?” Lane
read Karin’s face. Her neighbor was not buying the tech-
nicality. “You’re right. Tell whoever you want. If anyone
asks for advice, I’ll just tell them I’m a disaster at giving advice in real life.” She glanced at her watch.
Karin noticed. “Oh. You have to work. Sorry. Don’t
want to keep you from your fans.”
“Thanks for stopping by.” Lane wanted to mean it.
“Your bread is amazing.” She tried to sound like she
meant it.
“Want the recipe? Practically everyone on the block
has it.”
“I don’t bake,” Lane admitted. “Probably for the best.”
She tapped her stomach. “Less bake, less belly.”
“Oh. Do you not want the bread? If you don’t want
to eat it I can take the rest home.”
“No. Of course I want it. Henry will love it.”
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Lane waved goodbye and closed the door and leaned
against it. Why did she say things like that? Why tell someone who’d just baked her a bread that she was concerned
about her weight? She shook off the question, letting it
join all the other unanswered questions she enjoyed not
thinking about and went upstairs to set up the soundproof
back bedroom as her home office.
h h
h h
Over the next few weeks a parade of visitors rang her
bell. Neighbors welcomed her with cookies and cupcakes.
Teenagers stopped by to sell magazine subscriptions to
support the field hockey team and oranges to support the
band. Children rang the bell asking if Henry could come
out to play. She always passed their invitations on to him but he never accepted. He preferred to stay in and draw.
And how could she blame him? She hadn’t accepted any
of her invitations either. Not to the new-member coffees
at the Jewish center and the Unitarian church or to the
book group on her block or to the movies-in-the-morning
club. The only invitation she didn’t turn down was the
one from her neighbor Dana, the real estate agent, who
came over daily now in her capacity as property manager
for the landlord.
In addition to the repairs Dana oversaw before Lane
moved in—the installation of the second-floor window
guards, even though no one else in the neighborhood
had them, and the removal of the creeping vine from the
tiny cracks in the grout of the Manhattan Schist—she was
now handling a myriad of repairs. The boiler went on
the fritz first and after that, the hot water heater failed to send hot water to the fixtures in the second floor. When
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the radiator in Lane’s office had what the plumber called
a valvular breakdown that resulted in a minor geyser that
just missed destroying her laptop, Dana offered to host
a dinner party in her honor to make up for her trouble.
“It’s the least I could do,” she said after Lane resisted.
“It could be anything you want. A cocktail party for the
whole block. Or a small dinner for…” She counted on her
fingers. “I think there are eight kids Henry’s age. How
about I invite those kids and their moms to dinner? That
way Henry can get to meet everyone at once. Sound fun?”
Lane pretended it did because what it sounded like was
a good idea for Henry. Having a group of friends right
here on the block could be just what he needed. Maybe,
finally, after all the years of moves, she’d finally made a move that would work.
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CHAPTER TWELVE
Henry didn’t like it when people talked about slippery
things. Slippery things were things that might be right
to do, or might be wrong to do. It was hard to know.
One slippery thing was Telling. Sometimes it was
wrong (tattle-telling). Sometimes it was right (safety first).
Another slippery thing was Lying. It was Always Wrong to Lie except for when it was Allowed. The reason a lie
was allowed was usually, Because. Because meant a thing you would understand when you got older.
Secrets were the most slippery things. Secrets could
be good or bad, depending. When Henry asked his
mom how he could tell the good ones from the bad
ones her first answer was, That’s a question that could wake up a nest of hornets. Her second answer was, You can tell if a secret is bad if it makes your tummy hurt. You can tell if a secret is good if it makes your smile come out. For an example of a good secret she told Henry to think about
the time his class gave him surprise balloons on his last
day at his old school. She did not tell him an example of
a bad secret.
When Henry thought about slippery things for too
long his head got confused. The best idea for not getting
a confused head was don’t. Don’t Lie. Don’t Tell. Don’t
Think About It.
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h h
h h
What happened on the Blue Rabbit was a Don’t Think
About It. His bus was called the Blue Rabbit. All the
buses at his school had names that were animals and
colors. His friend Francesca’s bus was the Red Rooster.
Ezra and Beatrice, who went to Speech with him, were
on the Green Squirrel. Henry didn’t know why the buses
had animal names but there were a lot of things he didn’t
know like why did they call it Speech when all he did
was draw.
The way Henry knew he was on the right bus was
if it had a blue sign with a rabbit picture pasted to the
window. The blue sign on his bus was curled in at the
corners. That was as much as he wanted to think about
the Blue Rabbit.
Sometimes when his mom lay next to him in bed
she could see through his eyelids into his feelings. So
the night after What Happened on the Blue Rabbit, he
decided to end the New Norman part where his mom
slept in his bed.
He made it a good surprise. He made it about, he was
growing up. He said, “I think tonight you should sleep in
your room because I’m growing up.” He closed his eyes
extra tight. Sometimes if he closed his eyes extra tight
she couldn’t see in.
She said, “Okay.” And then she got quiet. And then
she said, “Are you sure?”
With his eyes closed he couldn’t see her face but he
could hear from her voice she was Worried. He nodded
to make her unworried and she said, “Can you please use
word
s?” Now her voice was Disappointed.
He made his voice very strict. “Yes. I’m sure.”
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She said, “Okay,” again, and then she said, “Shove over.
We’re still going to have Tell Me That Story, aren’t we?”
He shoved over and asked if she could tell a short one
tonight and then he gave her an idea. “Maybe a story
where someone wrote to you with a problem and you
wrote back an answer that made them happy and then
you got happy?”
“That’s a good suggestion. Let me think of one.” She
thought for a long time.
His eyes got sleepy waiting, so he closed them. He
heard her say, “Are you still awake?” but he was too tired to talk so he nodded and then crossed his fingers under the blanket that she wouldn’t get mad that he didn’t use words.
She didn’t. “Okay buddy. Sleep tight.” She kissed him
good night and left the room.
As soon as she left he opened his eyes. Even though
he was in bed and his eyes were facing the wall, he felt
like he was still on the bus, inside the Blue Rabbit. He
could see the blob of pink gum that was on the back of
the red seat in front of him and he could see the mud
stuck in the ridges on the floor mat and he could see the
driver with sticky-out ears and no hair and the bus aide
who had big ankles but her socks fell down anyway.
The boy on the Blue Rabbit who yanked Henry’s hair
was in fifth grade or fourth, regular size with fat hands
and long sneaky arms that could reach over the top of
the seat and grab hair without making any sound. His
name was Sighless.
The first time Sighless yanked his hair, Henry thought
he got an all-of-a-sudden headache. For a headache he
was supposed to go to Miss Fiske and show her the note
that said, nurse. But Miss Fiske wasn’t on the bus and
the bus aide wasn’t for helping with headaches.
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The second time Sighless yanked his hair, Henry felt
a pull and a sting. He was staring at the pink gum on the
back of the seat in front of him when it happened, which
made him think maybe there was gum on his seat too
and that’s what pulled his hair.
He turned around to look. No gum. Maybe the pull
and the sting was his imagination. Mrs. Wexler, his teacher in his old school, said he had a very good imagination
which was a blessing and a curse.
After he saw there was no gum, he saw Sighless sit-
ting in the seat behind him not doing anything except
looking out the window and smiling.
The third yank was the hardest. At the third yank,
Henry’s hand went, all by itself, to the back of his head to try and make whatever was yanking stop. He felt something pull away and he turned around fast as the wind
but nothing was there. Just Sighless sitting behind him
looking out the window. His smile was even bigger now.
The bus aide saw him turned around and yelled out,
“Face front. Right now. Or I’ll…” She didn’t say anything
else. She just closed her mouth and gave him a glary look.
Henry wanted to tell her that he was turned around
because his hair got yanked three times but his mouth
wouldn’t let him.
Doctor Bruce told him that most people didn’t know
it, but Not Talking was a Super Power. He said it was the same Super Power as Invisible. A person who didn’t talk could be like a Fly on the Wall. Flies on the Wall could
listen to what people were saying without the people
knowing they were there. Doctor Bruce told him the
tricky part about being Invisible was that it could be a lot of fun or it could be a lot of boring. The good part about being Invisible was if it got boring, all he had to do was 163
Nancy Star
go back to talking and poof! No more Invisible. So far his Super Power wasn’t fun or boring.
He faced front for a minute with his hand guarding
the back of his head in case another yank came. Then,
very slowly, he got on to his knees and, very slowly, he
turned his body around to check on whether someone
was hiding behind him. Maybe a monster who slipped
onto the bus when no one was looking. He knew his
Super Power was working because he bus aide didn’t see
him turn around.
No one was there. Just Sighless. He faced front.
The bus aide was looking at her phone, which had
pictures of sneakers on it, when Sighless laughed. When
Henry turned to see why his laugh was so loud he saw
that Sighless was leaning forward in his seat so close to
Henry’s head that Henry could hear what he said next
even though Sighless whispered it.
What he said was, “You’re a weird dope.”
Henry faced front and waited for another yank but
nothing happened. The game was over.
Except it wasn’t over because now Henry felt something
hot on his ear which turned out to be Sighless’s mouth
on purpose touching his ear while Sighless whispered,
“All you have to do is say stop and I will.”
Henry wanted to say Stop, but his mouth wouldn’t
listen. After a while Sighless got tired of waiting and he yanked Henry’s hair again, three more times, yank, yank,
yank. The last time he yanked so hard a noise came out
of Henry’s mouth and the bus aide looked up and Sighless
said, “See? He can talk when he wants to.”
It wasn’t words that came out of his mouth, though.
It was just a sound that meant, He’s hurting me. But the bus aide didn’t understand sounds so she shook her head
164
because, Boys, stop bothering me. Then she went back to looking at sneakers on her phone.
Henry waited for something else to happen but nothing
else did. When the bus turned onto the street where the
school was, he snuck a peek at Sighless who was staring
out the window with his hands folded on his lap like they
were supposed to do during morning announcements.
Sticking out of his hands was hair.
Henry didn’t know for a hundred percent sure if the
hair was his but it did have the same brown color and
the same curly cue and his head hurt worse than before
so probably it was.
When Sighless saw Henry looking at the hair he said
in a quiet voice that Henry wished he didn’t hear, “If you tell anyone I pulled out your hair, I’ll come to your house tonight while you’re sleeping and I’ll pull out the rest.”
Henry wanted to say that he was very good at not
telling but his mouth still wouldn’t work.
Sometimes when he didn’t talk people said, Just try.
They didn’t know trying didn’t always show on the outside.
On the way home from school, Sighless didn’t sit
behind him. He sat in the back of the bus with the noisy
boys. That night Henry didn’t tell what happened. He
wasn’t sure how Sighless would know he didn’t tell but
he hoped he knew so he wouldn’t come over to pull out
the rest.
h h
h h
It was still dark out when the phone woke him up. P
robably Aunt Shelley. Aunt Shelley was the only one who called
before the sun came in the window. He didn’t hear her
words but he heard his mom’s voice. Mad.
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Nancy Star
After her voice stopped and it got quiet, he heard
feet walking down the hall and someone breathing in
his room. He wanted to look sleeping but what if it was
Sighless? He opened his eyes.
He didn’t mean for his mom to see that his eyes were
Sad but all the Sad from the day popped in at once. He
could tell she saw because her eyes got Worried and she
asked if everything was okay. He nodded but she still
looked Worried so he told her he was okay, just a little
lonely from sleeping by himself. The last part was true.
His mom said, “Shove over,” so he did and she climbed
in next to him and touched his hair and by accident pulled on the spot where his hair had been yanked out but her
eyes were closed so she didn’t see him make an Ow face.
They both fell asleep after that. The alarm woke him
up. The sun was in the window. His mom’s eyes were
open. He could tell by her eyebrows she was Sad. To make
her happier he said, “I think today it would be better if
I stayed home with you.”
She laughed and said, “I wish.”
After she got out of bed he crossed his arms over his
chest and tried to get all the air out of his body so he
would be completely flat because if he was completely
flat, how could he sit on a bus?
His mom laughed and said, Up and atom, in a voice
that meant she didn’t have time for games today.
After she went downstairs to make breakfast he got
dressed very, very, extra very slowly. When he put on his
socks, he wiggled his toes in slowly, until he could see
them poking at the very tippy end. When he pulled up
his socks he stretched them slowly, as high as he could
get them, until they almost touched his knees. He walked
down the stairs slowly. He ate his cereal one Puffin at a
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time. He chewed the Puffins into a thin paste while he
watched the hands on the clock. These hands didn’t jerk
ahead, one minute at a time, like the ones at school, but
he could still see time move so he knew he knew that
needed to be a little more slow. Just a little more slow so he could miss the bus and his mom would have to drive
him to school and then he would never have to tell her