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still staring intently at the photo. ‘So where did you get him?’
    ‘From my aunt.’
    ‘The one who died?’
    ‘Yep.’
    ‘Is he alive?’
    Ruth looked up in surprise. ‘You mean the rat?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    No one had ever asked her that before.
    ‘He looks alive,’ Howard persisted.
    Ruth suddenly wanted to hug the skinny boy standing by the window.
    ‘Of course not,’ she said. ‘It’s just that I sort of …’ she began tentatively, ‘I sort of thought …’ She stopped again.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Nothing.’
    ‘Tell me.’ Howard flopped down in front of the heater. ‘Come on, I want to know about him.’
    So she told Howard about the day she was given the rat and about her sense that the rat knew things, and actually understood what she said in some weird way.
    Then she told him how her good luck had disappeared when she didn’t have the rat anymore.
    ‘In what way?’ Howard asked, his expression blank. Ruth couldn’t work out if he thought she was crazy or … not.
    ‘Well … my aunt died,’ she said bluntly, ‘my friends turned on me and … my family became … totally obnoxious.’
    Howard nodded thoughtfully. She didn’t care if he did think she was crazy; she could tell by the way he was listening that he wasn’t a blabbing kind of person.
    ‘So what happened to him?’ Howard asked when she finally stopped talking.
    ‘I … I lost him.’ It hurt to have to admit it, even now.
    ‘How?’
    Ruth shrugged.

5
    T hey had been driving back to the city after a night away for one of Marcus’s sporting events. It was late afternoon and everyone was grumpy. Ruth was particularly anxious to get back because her new best friend, the queen of Grade Six, Lou Parker, was having a sleepover at her house. Only two other girls had been invited. This invitation meant that Ruth was now part of the all-important inner circle of Grade Six. Lots of good things like this had begun happening lately, and she’d started feeling lucky. Since Rodney.
    ‘Step on it, Dad!’ she’d said in a low voice, staring out the window. ‘This is snail’s pace.’
    ‘I’m doing the speed limit, Ruth.’
    ‘There are no police around here!’
    ‘That isn’t the point.’
    ‘Well, what is the point?’ she said under her breath. Ruth was worried about Rodney down at the bottom of her bag. He did not take kindly to being cooped up in small places.
    Suddenly there was the floppy sound of rolling rubber then a loud clunk and the car began to drift sideways.
    ‘Blow-out,’ Mr Craze sighed, pulling the car to the side of the road. He closed his eyes and banged his head on the steering wheel before opening the door.
    Without a word the rest of them followed. Sure enough, the tyre was completely wrecked. Strips were sticking off at all angles and there was the smell of burnt rubber. Everyone stared at it in dismay for a few moments.
    ‘What’s a blow-out, Dad?’ Paul asked.
    ‘Well, it’s when the tube inside the tyre –’
    ‘What does it matter what it is?’ Ruth shrieked, kicking the tyre angrily with one foot. ‘It means we can’t drive on it!’
    ‘Okay, calm down,’ her father said. ‘Come on, Marcus, we’d better change this before it gets dark.’
    Marcus jumped into position beside the wheel and all their bags and food containers and bits and pieces were heaved out onto the ground around the car as Mr Craze uncovered the spare-tyre cavity.
    ‘How long will this take?’ Ruth was hopping from one foot to the other. ‘Because I have to get back to –’
    ‘We all know what you have to do, Ruth!’ her mother cut in irritably.
    ‘Shouldn’t take long,’ Mr Craze mumbled, head still in the boot. He lifted out the spare and rolled it to the side of the car. ‘All we need now is the jack.’
    ‘Hurry, Dad!’ Ruth began pacing up and down. ‘Please.’
    She noticed her bag sitting on the side of the road and thought of Rodney lying there under all her things, with no idea of what was going on.