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ahead and get settled in, and when you’re done, you can come out and watch TV. I know your mom said it’s not allowed, but we just won’t tell her. Okay?”
    â€œOkay,” we agreed, dropping our bags and following her back out to the living room–office.
    â€œAren’t you going to put your things away?” she asked, noticing that we were right behind her.
    â€œOur mom is coming to pick us up in the morning, so we would just have to pack everything back up,” I said, but at this point I wasn’t so convinced.
    â€œOh?” She was obviously surprised.
    â€œYeah, she’s coming back. Where’s the TV?” Kyle said, cutting to the chase.
    â€œOkay, here’s the TV, but you have to keep it on low because I have some work to do, and remember, don’t tell your mom. She was very clear about not letting you watch TV.”
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    M OM CAME BACK the next morning as promised and found us back on the trampoline.
    â€œHey, guys. How was your night? This place is really great, right? It just has a really, really good vibe, doesn’t it? I mean, Ed and Carol are really amazing people.”
    My brain was consumed with thoughts of backflips and jumping off trees, so I wasn’t really listening to her, just nodding when it seemed appropriate. But what was there to complain about when you had TVs and trampolines? I had to agree: it seemed like a great place.
    â€œOkay. So my plane is leaving Albuquerque in a few hours, so I’ve really got to get going. I’ll call you tonight when I get back to Philly.”
    The whole thing was too big for our little brains to comprehend. She might as well have been saying, “Have a good day at school, I’ll be back to pick you up at three.” She hugged us, walked back to the car, and drove away.
    We continued taking turns on the trampoline, and when we got hungry, we went back to the trailer and ate sandwiches. Then we jumped on the trampoline some more, ate dinner with Carol, watched TV, and went to bed. We went through the exact same routine the next day, neither of us commenting on the fact that our mom had just disappeared and left us on a deserted lot in New Mexico.
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    I COULD HAVE LIVED with this routine of eating, sleeping, playing with Kyle, and not talking to anyone forever, but on Monday morning we were woken up at eight thirty and told to eat something now, or we would have to wait until lunch. I did my best to keep human interaction to a minimum, so without saying a word, we got up, made bowls of Cheerios, and were halfway through eating them, when Carol told us we had to go.
    â€œCan I finish my Cheerios?” Kyle asked her.
    â€œNo. Sorry. It’s nine o’clock, you have to leave. You can come back at three.”
    â€œCan I just use the bathroom real quick?” I asked.
    â€œNo. You can use one of the outhouses, though. At three you can come back and use this one.”
    I was no stranger to getting rushed out of the house, as my mom was always running late for everything, but I had never been rushed like this, for absolutely nothing. She ushered us out, closed the door, and just left us standing there on the little wood landing of the trailer. Still waking up, we watched as a few older kids ran toward the cinder-block building. And then dead silence, just as it had been over the weekend. What were we late for? Did we miss something? Was there somewhere we were supposed to be? What the hell just happened? Should we go to the building? I had a million questions. Kyle seemed equally confused, so I decided to knock on the door and ask Carol what was going on. There was no answer. I tried knocking again, and again we were answered by silence. I tried the doorknob out of curiosity and wasn’t at all surprised to find it locked. We just sat down on the stairs and waited. I had just traded my stairway in Philly for a new one in Santa Fe.
    We sat there for hours, not knowing what to