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didn’t like holding hands with her. Her hands were roughish. Plus, she wasn’t his mom.
    “Max, I have something to tell you.”
    He sat up and rubbed his eyes because sleep was still in him.
    Ramey sat next to him, and he noticed her eyelids were thick. The way his teacher’s eyelids looked when kids in Room 8 gave her flowers. Allergy, teacher called it. Maybe Ramey had allergy, too.
    A long breath came out of Ramey. “Your mom isn’t coming home, Max.”
    He sat up a little straighter. “What?” Why would she say that?
    Ramey was wrong. “Only two days away. She promised.” Ramey moved her head with little shakes. “No, Max. Something happened. Your mommy isn’t coming home ever again. Not ever.” The goldfish feeling was back, but this time he was mad, too.
    Very mad. “ No, Ramey!” Next to him Buddy did a little bark.
    “Don’t say that. She’s coming home today. Before dinner!” Teardrops started coming down Ramey’s cheeks. She sat on the couch and put her hands over her face. “Help me do this!” Max wasn’t sure what to say. Buddy was sitting up now, watching Ramey the same way Max was. Max didn’t want to be angry, but every time he let go of the mad, a scared feeling came. A big scared feeling that made him want to run out the door and straight home.
    Finally Ramey lowered her hands. “Come here, Max.” He didn’t want to do it, but he had to. Gentlemen obeyed grown-ups. His mother taught him that. His feet dragged across the carpet until he was standing near Ramey’s knees.
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    – Karen Kingsbury –
    She took hold of his shoulders and looked straight at his eyes.
    “Max . . . your mom is dead.” A crying sound came from Ramey.
    “Jesus . . . Jesus took her to heaven to live with him.” Max jerked back hard and fast and shook his head. Ramey never lied to him before, never. But his mom wasn’t dead. She kissed him good-bye yesterday morning and he saw for himself. She wasn’t dead; she was alive. Very, very alive. “No, Ramey . . . you’re wrong.” He backed up and ran quick into the bathroom and shut the door.
    Then he pressed his back against it so no one could get inside.
    His breathing was fast and hard like when he raced Jimmy Jack-son at recess. He squeezed his eyes shut and told his brain to think fast. Why would Ramey say that thing? His mommy was fine, she wasn’t sick or old or anything. Jesus didn’t take her to heaven. She was in Tokyo, that’s all. Same as always.
    His breathing got slower. She would call any minute.
    Then a very awful idea popped into his heart and made his eyes sting. What if something bad happened to her airplane? Like maybe the wings fell off, or a door blew open? Or the pilot landed in the water? One time he asked her about airplane doors. “If someone opens the door, what happens?”
    “You can’t open the door when the plane’s flying, Max. It isn’t possible.”
    “But if someone did, couldn’t you fall out?”
    “I guess.” She did a little laugh at him. “But that won’t happen.
    Airplanes are super safe, okay?”
    He asked her a few more times, but she always told him the same thing. Planes were safe. Wings didn’t fall off, doors didn’t blow open, and pilots never landed in the water. Never.
    A knock came against the door and Max felt it push against his back.
    “Max . . . open up. Please.” Ramey wasn’t crying anymore, but scared was in her voice. Scared and nervous and not sure what to do.
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    – Oceans Apart –
    Now that the idea was in his head, he couldn’t make it go away.
    What if something bad did happen to his mom’s airplane? What if she didn’t know it could happen, but it could? He stepped away from the door and opened it slow and careful. Then he peeked out at Ramey and he was all of a sudden afraid to ask.
    His mom’s words whispered in his heart. Be brave, Max . . . whenever you’re afraid be brave . He did a swallow and straightened his shoulders. “Ramey, did . . . did something bad