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probably a pool closer to our apartment, but I’m used to this one. Granny paid for me to take swimming lessons and I practically lived there the whole month of August, zipping through the Red Cross levels.
    Granny said that I’m a fish and that I came by it honestly. When Mom was a teenager, she swam all the way across Cultus Lake and raised a hundred dollars. She gave every penny of it to the Salvation Army. Granny said no one could beat Mom in swimming. I’ve never been to Cultus Lake and Mom doesn’t ever swim anymore, but we have a newspaper article all about it, so I know it’s true.
    The pool is outside, surrounded by a chain-link fence. The lifeguard is my swimming teacher from last summer. His name is Joe and he looks like a lifeguard should – shaggy blond hair and a tan, even though we’ve only had a few sunny days all month.
    He remembers me. “Hi, Hope,” he says. “How come you aren’t in school?”
    â€œIt’s my birthday.” I don’t want to explain anymore. I especially don’t want to talk about Granny. He gives me a thumbs-up.
    The pool is empty. I swim laps up and down, up and down.
    Joe climbs down off his lifeguard chair and teaches me how to do a tuck turn at the end of each lap. I’m grinning underwater. I love the power of pushing off the wall with my feet and surging forward like a seal. Joe yells, “Way to go, kid!” each time I come to the surface.
    When I’m totally exhausted, I float on my back and think about the big brown envelope. What was in it? Why did Mom look so upset?
    The sky is full of dark gray clouds and a few raindrops plop into my eyes. My feet bump into the ladder and I pull myself onto the bottom rung. The clock on the wall reads three-thirty. School’s over.
    Kids start pouring in, and Joe scrambles back up on his chair. I spot two of the popular girls from my old school, dipping their toes in at the steps and screeching that it’s cold. They’re wearing great bathing suits, one lime green and one bright yellow. I feel stupid in my suit, which is last year’s plain navy, and too small. I climb up the ladder, say good-bye to Joe, and flee to the changing room before the girls can see me.
    It’s raining cats and dogs when I leave the community center. By the time I get home, I’m soaked. The first thing I see when I unlock the apartment door is Mom’s purse on the little hall table. There’s a note beside it in her handwriting.

    Job was already taken by the time I got there. Just my luck!!! Wake me up no later than 6.

    xoxox Mom

    I have a hot shower and wash all the chlorine out of my hair. I shampoo and rinse three times because I’ve heard that too much chlorine can turn your hair green. Then I curl up in Granny’s recliner in the living room with The Clue of the Velvet Mask .
    At six o’clock, I open Mom’s bedroom door a crack and peer at her. Her skirt, blouse, and stockings are draped over a chair and she’s wearing a pale pink slip. She’s lying on her side on her bed, one arm draped across her face, and snoring ever so gently.
    I head to the kitchen and inspect the fridge. The steak is sitting on a plate, but I haven’t the foggiest idea how to cook it. I pour myself a bowl of cornflakes and take it into the living room.
    I pull out the couch and make it into my bed. Then I prop myself up with my cornflakes and I read right to the very last page of my book. It’s midnight when I turn out the light. I can’t stop yawning. As Granny would say, I’m so tired I could sleep on a clothesline.
    My first day of being eleven is over.

Chapter Thirteen
    I go to the pool every day for the rest of the week. Joe gives me free pointers and I can feel my strokes getting stronger.
    On Friday, he says to me, “I’m starting a swim team this summer. How about joining? You’re good enough.”
    Swim teams must cost money and Mom