“I thought that being right was the only thing you liked about talking to other people,” I said. “You can’t correct people without disagreement.”

I’d always doubted whether people existed when they weren’t with me, even before everyone disappeared. Now I knew that people folded into laptops and disappeared into The Cloud until Mom clicked on them again.

These days, bushes crowded in too close for a car to squeeze through and roots had chewed up most of the pavement, but you could still smell the rusty skeletons of old wrecks buried in the bushes like a forgotten bone. The ghosts blew in with the morning fog and swirled featherlike through the brush until the sun shined them away around lunch time. 

The Stuck House was supposed to be the only place where the universe had to obey her rules, but now she couldn’t even boss around a lousy banana.

When we dismounted, Mom hid behind the beak of her hat so that no one else in the car kennel could pick her out in a line-up.

“It’s the treasure that sparkles, not the treasure hunter,” I reminded her. “Why don’t you wear the sparkly clothes for a change?” “Don’t be silly,” Mom said. “You’re the star of the show.” I couldn’t argue with that.

Mom almost never runs with a water bottle, especially in a race, when people volunteer to serve her. Perhaps I should have insisted that she drink out of the puddle. 

Mom’s shoe reached under the table and hooked the loop. I clamped my butt to the floor and braced all four legs. The leash pulled taut and my collar dug into my neck. 

“Maybe a prince will come knocking on every wagon door in Oregon searching for the freakishly small foot that fits,” I told her.

“Maybe a prince will come knocking on every wagon door in Oregon searching for the freakishly small foot that fits,” I told her.

“They can’t catch us if we outrun them.” Mom leaned forward and fell uphill in what looked like the sprint of someone who just grew legs

“They can’t catch us if we outrun them.” Mom leaned forward and fell uphill in what looked like the sprint of someone who just grew legs

“It must be a river,” Mom said in a sleepy voice. “This place is called Mad Gorge which means—"

The kaleidoscope of trees and moss fell into a pattern that made sense. “I’ve been here before!” I wagged.

The kaleidoscope of trees and moss fell into a pattern that made sense. “I’ve been here before!” I wagged.

We ran down the paved road with the shadows of branches on our heads and the smell of clouds in our noses. Ahead, on the other left , a dirt car-trail came to meet the road. Where they came together, a fan of dirty tire prints smeared the pavement, as if nature were trying to reclaim its territory. “Look! Mom! Another road, just like you said there’d be!” I ran ahead to show her the way. “And there are sticks!” Mom hurried to catch up. “Yes! I remember that log now. This is d

“I thought you said we couldn’t get lost!” I gasped. Suddenly, the mailman van felt very far away.

“When I was younger, I used to look at maps of logging roads and imagine what it would be like to explore all those paths to nowhere.”

"Oh brother," she said from behind me in a voice like an eye roll. My collar dug into my throat as she reeled me in a little closer.

"Oh brother," she said from behind me in a voice like an eye roll. My collar dug into my throat as she reeled me in a little closer.