“I think I’m in trouble,” Rebecca said. Now instead of just looking at his sneakers, she tilted her whole head down, so her pigtails rustled against the back of her neck. As she did so, she felt the weight of the party hat on her head and remembered the elastic around her neck that she gotten used to ignoring. Now that she felt it again, she wanted to take it off. But she didn’t want to upset Mr. Taylor, and she didn’t know what to do with it if she did take it off. So she left it on and tried not to scratch at her neck.

            Rebecca took one step back and accidentally hit the cabinets under the counter. She heard a few of the dinosaurs rattle, but none fell. Still she worried if one might have broken, if one of Cameron’s friends might pick up his dinosaur and find a crack in the leg, or maybe an eyeball that fell out. Rebecca started to cry without meaning to. She let herself sit down on the kitchen floor, even though it would rumple her dress. Mr. Taylor immediately came and sat down with her.

            “I’m sure you’re not in trouble,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulder. “Everyone’s just worried about you, that’s all. Do you think you could give me your phone number so I can talk to someone at your house?” he asked. Rebecca recited her phone number automatically, and he repeated it to himself as he fished out his cell phone, and then dialed it. But Rebecca couldn’t stop crying.

            “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Mr. Taylor kept saying, tilting the phone back behind his ear, and Rebecca tried to believe him. But they both heard the endless dial tone on the other end of the phone line, and then finally the answering machine. Her family had recorded a new message just last week. Rebecca tried to pick out Cameron’s voice from the rest.

            They could both hear Jesse’s mom in the den, announcing that the magician had arrived. This only made Rebecca lean into his shoulder and cry harder. Magicians had rabbits in black hats, and Cameron loved rabbits. But they could never get one because Rebecca was allergic. It was all her fault.

            “No one’s answering,” he said after trying once more. “Do you know your dad’s cell phone number?” Rebecca shook her head. It started with a five and then maybe a three, but that was all she knew.

            “You know what I think,” Mr. Taylor said, lifting himself and then her off the floor, “I think we’re just going to have to go to your house and see who’s there, okay?” Rebecca nodded, not seeing any other choice. No one was going to let her stay at the party. No one was even going to give her a dinosaur. “It looks like the magician’s here, so Jesse won’t mind if we leave for a few minutes. We’ll have you home in no time,” he said, as if Rebecca had gotten here by accident. She could have gone back just as easily as she’d come, if she wanted to.

            Mr. Taylor led her through the crowd of grown-ups in the living and dining rooms. They moved quickly until she nearly tripped on her party shoes, and then he slowed their pace. He paused once to tell someone to tell his wife where he was, and then they were off again, out the door and onto the sunny sidewalk. Someone in Jesse’s family had wrapped two “Happy Birthday” balloons around the mailbox, and they now waved gracefully in the wind.

            “I don’t know many six-year-olds who would come to a party all on their own,” Mr. Taylor said, looking down at her with a nice smile. He was walking slowly now so she didn’t even have to jog to keep up, like she had to do with her own dad. “Didn’t Cameron want to come, since he and Jesse are friends?” he asked. Then he looked up and around, although they were still at least five houses from hers.

            “Cameron couldn’t come,” Rebecca said, articulating her words carefully. “He’s dead.” She felt like she might cry again, but then she didn’t. Her eyes stayed dry, and she kept walking.

            But Mr. Taylor stopped, and because they were holding hands he stopped her too. “What do you—what happened?” he asked, crouching down now with one knee bent on the sidewalk. His trousers looked all wrong when they got crumpled at the knee, and she could see his upper ankle popping out from beneath the hem and above his socks. Grown-ups weren’t supposed to look messy like that. He looked her straight in the eyes, softly but seriously. Rebecca went quiet, not knowing how to answer. Her small hand was damp with sweat inside his dry one, but she liked it there. She felt safe.

           “Dad took Cameron away in the car today to the hospital, but I was still sleeping. Then Lucy came in and talked to me, and I don’t know what she said, but then she said me and David would have to stay in the house with her until Dad got back,” she explained, running out of breath. Rebecca’s fragile shoulders started to quiver, but he held her, and she calmed.

            “Rebecca, sweetie, I’m so sorry… first your mom and then Cameron…” he said, not seeming to know what he was saying, but with his eyebrows burrowed in thought and sympathy. Rebecca resolutely looked at the grass until Mr. Taylor picked himself back up, held her hand tight and started up their walk again. “Lucy must be worried sick about you, sweetie…” he continued, but Rebecca just kept shaking her head, without knowing what she was denying.

            “But we were supposed to go to Jesse’s party today like everyone said,” she explained, her voice soft but clear now, “and I just used the backdoor and walked down the block because Cameron was dead, and we’d RPSV-ed.”

            Mr. Taylor looked like he wanted to say something more, but Rebecca wouldn’t have heard him even if he did start to talk. They’d reached her house, and she turned to enter the bush-bordered yard, but then halted abruptly. Cameron wouldn’t be inside when they got there. Neither would her mom. And Rebecca had never even gotten to see the magician at Jesse’s party, so it was all a waste. She stood in between the bushes that towered above her, and she felt herself shrinking.

            Mr. Taylor turned too and gave her a tug on the wrist to see if she would follow, but she refused. She felt like a stubborn dog on the end of its owner’s leash, so she yanked her hand back. His face gentled, and he seemed to understand. With one last glance at her, he jogged up the path, climbed the porch stairs and rang the doorbell three times, like an anxious child. The door opened cautiously from the inside and then swung open full-force. He stepped out of the way as Lucy exploded out the door and toward Rebecca, who still didn’t move. She could see David leaning hesitantly in the doorframe, sullen and careful, the screen door swinging shut between him and Mr. Taylor.

           “Becky!” Lucy screamed as she was fast approaching, her brown curly hair in a ponytail that swung from side to side. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you! We called everyone we knew! You just slipped out on us! I tried not to tell Dad, but he called, and I had to, and now you’ve got him panicked!” Then she reached the bushes and hugged Rebecca so hard it became half an embrace and half a capture.

            Lucy was silent for a minute in her relief. Finally Rebecca felt her sister’s arms unlatch as Lucy began to dry her eyes on the wrists of her sweatshirt. “Becky,” Lucy whispered. “Oh, Becky.”

            Somehow Mr. Taylor and David had gotten down the steps too, but no one seemed inclined to talk. Everyone was looking at her now, Lucy with her big brown teary eyes and David with his usual frustration, and Mr. Taylor with that same sympathetic look that made her sadder than she was to begin with. Rebecca became suddenly aware of the forest green door of her home peaking out between David and Lucy’s heads. It was wide open, like her father said never to leave it. Through the screen door she could make out the living room and a corner of the piano that no one played anymore.

            “Where have you been?” Lucy finally asked, her eyes still red but now dry. The wrists of her sweatshirt were tear-stained. Rebecca thought back to the milk stains on Lucy’s textbook last night and wondered if this was her fault too.

            Mr. Taylor took over for her. “My son is Jesse, Cameron’s friend. Rebecca came to his birthday party today, down the street,” he said carefully, like he was reading the words from a script. He even pointed in the direction of his house, but no one followed his gesture. “We tried to call, but no one answered, so we decided to bring her back home. Lucy, David, I’m so sorry for your loss. Would you like me to stay with you until your dad gets home?”

            Lucy stood up to her full height and put a hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. She noticed the undone clasps at the top and started to fix them without looking, continuing even as she spoke.

            “I’m really sorry about my sister,” she said, now fully composed. She seemed to notice Rebecca’s party hat for the first time, and she adjusted this too, straightening it out. “Thank you for taking care of her, but I really wish you would have come here sooner. One sibling is enough to worry about right now—our loss?” To Rebecca’s relief, David and Lucy looked at Mr. Taylor now instead of her.

            “Your loss…” Mr. Taylor repeated slowly. “Cameron.”

            Lucy shook her head so her ponytail waved again, like it was saying hello. But Lucy’s face wasn’t so friendly when she turned her head to Rebecca and back again. Lucy looked confused and angry and sad all in one. “Cameron had appendicitis this morning and Father had to take him to the emergency room,” Lucy explained. “But we didn’t lose him—why? What did Becky say?”

            “Rebecca told me that Cameron died,” Mr. Taylor said, and all eyes turned to her again. She tried to look away but she was cornered, trapped between everyone taller than her. Mr. Taylor was even as tall as the bushes.

            “No I didn’t!” Rebecca shouted, starting to tear up again against all resolution. “I told you he was dead.” Lucy knelt down and hugged her sister again before saying anything. Lucy whispered something in her ear, but Rebecca wasn’t even listening. The door to the house was still open. Someone could rush past them and into the house and steal everything. If her dad came home right now, he would be very mad.

           “Cameron’s fine,” David added, speaking mostly to Mr. Taylor. “No one ever said he died. He’s probably eating Jell-O and watching TV in his hospital room right now.”

            “Becky, I thought you understood when I talked to you this morning,” Lucy said.

            Rebecca shrugged before answering. “But we were still supposed to go to the party,” she insisted.

            “Becky, we haven’t talked about this party since Mom died. I don’t think anyone expected us to come today, even before Cameron got sick. You should have come to me instead of going out all alone.”

           



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