Communicate with your climbing partner frequently as you ascend.
Always keep the rope between you and the wall so you don’t become tangled.
If you think you might fall, look down for obstructions in your path.
Try for a soft landing with your feet, keeping your hands at the ready.
If you begin to free-fall, reach for available holds, such as rock ledges or tree branches.
HANG ON!
SWEATY BETTY
First thing Monday morning,
Tyson elbows me in the hallway.
Outta my way, Sweaty Betty.
Ugh. Ever heard of deodorant?
Can you stop being so rude? Georgia says.
Looks like his girlfriend’s sticking up for him again.
I think she needs a nickname, too.
Tyson glares at Georgia.
He nudges his sidekick, Keith.
Uhhhh…how about Freckle Face?
Real original. Tyson scowls.
That’s the best you got?
She has all those freckles, so…
Shut your pieholes! Liam shouts.
If he were a cartoon,
smoke would be pouring
from his ears.
Make us, Loser Face, Keith taunts.
Not worth it. Georgia holds Liam back.
I’m glad my friends
want to protect me,
but Liam gets into enough trouble
on his own
without fighting my battles.
I pull a hoodie from my locker,
tug it on,
try to disappear inside.
Most boys my age
wear wrinkled shirts,
grass-stained jeans,
and smell
a little bit.
I thought I could blend in
until Dad does the laundry again.
But that’s not happening anytime soon.
Maybe I can sneak
a few things into the wash at Liam’s
the next time I sleep over.
Otherwise, I’ll have to
use our washing machine.
But it’s in the basement
and that place seriously
creeps me out.
KEEPING BUSY
When I was five years old,
Aunt Lydia had a baby
and Mom flew across the country
from Arizona to Maine
to help for a week.
Before she left, Dad said,
Melody, what will we do
without you?
You’ll be fine, Ogden.
Just keep busy.
Dad took me to work with him,
let me sample all the soft-serve flavors
in the campus dining hall.
At home we played games, built forts,
stayed up late watching television.
When Mom returned,
she found the house
in shambles.
I was still awake
close to midnight
sitting in the living room
on a mountain
of papers, toys, books, blankets, and crayons,
gnawing on a candy bar.
Where is your father? she asked
wiping chocolate from my face,
wrapping me in her arms
like I was Aunt Lydia’s new baby,
even though I was much older.
It’s way past your bedtime, bud.
She nuzzled my neck,
then stopped.
Sniffed my hair.
Sniffed my shirt.
Inspected behind my ears.
When was the last time you had a bath?
I counted on my fingers.
One, two, three, four, five, six…
seven? Seven!
I smiled
showing all my teeth,
unbrushed for seven days.
∞ ∞ ∞
No baths.
No bedtime.
Candy bars for dinner.
Those had been the perks
of Mom’s absence.
Except her face,
suddenly folded with lines,
didn’t seem to agree.
I couldn’t tell if I was in trouble
or not.
After a bath
with extra bubbles,
toothbrushing
with extra paste,
she dressed me
in fresh pajamas.
Tucked me into bed
with extra kisses
that told me
I wasn’t in trouble
at all.
But I couldn’t sleep.
The air felt
crackly,
full of static,
ready to spark.
∞ ∞ ∞
She was usually
so patient.
Except
that night
Mom was so mad
she yelled at Dad
in a voice
I didn’t even know
she had.
The sound
made tiny hairs
stand up
on the back of my neck,
near that spot she’d just scrubbed and scrubbed
until a week’s worth of grime
was finally gone.
I cupped my hands
around my ears
in the darkness,
trying to make them bigger, better
sound funnels.
Only a few of the
loudest
broken words
made it
up the stairs
past
the closed door.
Most were grown-up words
I didn’t understand, like
squalor
hygiene
hazardous
distracted
nutrition
reckless
neglect
∞ ∞ ∞
In the morning
the house was
sparkling clean.
Mom looked up from
scrambling eggs, slicing fruit.
She smiled so big,
I could see all of her
sparkling teeth.
But her eyes were
heavy pebbles.
Her hands, raw.
Sorry we made such a big mess, I said softly,
wanting to make her feel better. Wanting
to make the tightness in my chest
disappear.
Aww, bud. I love you, she said.
I love you a million times infinity to the infinity power.
I jabbed the eggs on my plate.
Can I have a candy bar for breakfast?
She laughed. Not a chance.
Zero times infinity to the infinity power.
Even though it would’ve been nice
to eat another candy bar,
somewhere deep inside
I was thinking,
Maybe you shouldn’t go away again.
Her pebble eyes
ringed in red told me
she was thinking
the same.
NICKNAME
Liam decides we seriously need
better nicknames.
He wants to be called Matchstick.
Because of your red hair or
your fiery temper? I ask.
He punches my shoulder,
which I think is a yes to both.
I suggest Arrow for Georgia,
since that’s what she looks like when she dives.
But Liam says there’s a superhero called that.
Georgia likes my idea, though,
so she picks Gannet, a bird that can dive
sixty feet underwater at high speeds.
And mine?
They whisper,
then decide to call me
Worst-Case Collin.
I think this is the worst nickname
EVER.
It was meant as a compliment, Georgia says
when she sees me sulking.
Because you’re always so prepared.
If there were ever some crazy catastrophe,
you’re the one I’d want by my side.
Catastrophe’s already taken, Liam says, half listening.
Huh?
My sister’s new boyfriend.
At least that’s what Mom calls him
behind Lindsay’s back. He chuckles.
Anyway, Worst-Case Collin is way better
than Sweaty Betty.
I slug him back.
I hate when he’s right.
BRAVERY
On the bus ride home,
I keep thinking about
what Georgia said.
If some crazy thing really does happen one day,
will I be ready?
Will I be brave?
Will I be able to help?
Or will I just be
a total catastrophe?
* * *
If you become lost or stranded without an adequate food supply, insects can provide necessary sustenance for survival.
They are highly nutritious, rich in fats, proteins, and carbohydrates.
In some parts of the world, they are even considered a delicacy.
To collect insects for consumption, search under stones or attract them with a light at night.
Termites, locusts, crickets, and ant larvae are excellent choices.
Avoid brightly colored bugs, which may be poisonous.
Brush or wash away loose dirt.
Remove hard shells, wings, stingers, and barbed legs.
For best taste, boil until tender or roast until crunchy and delicious.
BON APPÉTIT!
HUNTING
My stomach is
growly as a bobcat,
but Dad must be working late,
so I go hunting for dinner alone.
Despite what my book says,
I’m not nearly desperate enough
to eat bugs,
although I could have a feast,
I find so many
in our kitchen.
An entire colony crawls
inside an old takeout container,
feasting on something
that may have, once, resembled
a cheeseburger.
It’s hard to tell
if the ache in my gut
is from disgust
or hunger
or missing Mom
or all of the above.
I throw out the container
and search the cupboard.
A can of corn looks promising.
If only I could find a can opener
or something sharp.
Of course, I can’t.
When you have so much stuff,
it’s hard to find anything.
Ms. Treehorn would call it
counterintuitive,
a fancy word
that means
different
from what you expect.
I can think of some other vocabulary
to describe the situation here.
(The sorts of words that land Liam
in the principal’s office on a regular basis.)
I eventually discover
a tin of water chestnuts
with a pull-tab top.
I’m feeling
a lot of things.
Picky is not
one of them.
I peel the metal back.
The chestnuts are crunchy,
a little bit salty.
I eat them all.
I even drink the leftover liquid.
There’s no sense dumping it
down the drain.
The sink is filled with mail.
The trash can is full
and I can’t bear to add
to the mess,
so I take the empty tin
outside and toss it
into the neighbor’s blue recycling box
when no one is looking.
MISSING CHAPTER
My orange book
is missing
a chapter.
I read it
cover to cover,
but there are no instructions
for how to survive
what’s happening
at home.
For now
the easiest thing to do
is avoid it.
VACANT LOT
There’s a huge swath
of emptiness
on the outskirts
of town.
I ride my bike
all the way there
by myself.
I should tell someone
where I’m going.
(My worst-case scenario handbook says this is
very important.)
But I never do.
That would defeat
the purpose.
In the distance,
heat smudges the horizon
in thick, wavy strokes,
making it hard to tell where
earth ends
sky begins.
Up close,
I see thirsty-looking scrub,
clusters of cracked rock,
ideal conditions for:
stinging scorpions,
rattling snakes,
prickling cacti.
Despite these dangers,
I love it.
In this wide-open
borderless space,
Before and After
melt
into one
and I feel
closest
to Mom.
A MEMORY
Even after her shifts at the hospital ended,
Mom still carried her patients in her heart.
I’d do my homework at the kitchen table
while she cooked dinner,
and we’d talk about our days.
She remembered everyone,
even if they were only in her care
for a few hours.
Of course she memorized
important medical stuff like:
allergies,
blood pressure,
history of stroke.
But also stuff like:
has a cat named Rumpus,
prefers vanilla pudding,
likes to watch game shows.
It was hard for anyone
not to love her.
HEALING
The other thing Mom used to tell me
about her patients was this:
The ones who laugh
heal faster.
I don’t understand
the science behind it,
but I see it
all the time.
Collin, if there are ever days
when laughing seems too ha
rd,
just start with a smile
and see where it takes you.
TRYING
I try to follow
Mom’s advice,
but some days
are more challenging
than others.
With Tyson and Keith
always teasing me at school,
and the embarrassing, maddening
mess at home,
I’m grateful
for friends
who make me laugh.
Even if Liam is
a complete doofus
most of the time.
T-MINUS 96
On our way to Georgia’s house after swim practice,
we stop at the Henny Penny,
where a massive penny-candy counter stretches from
one end of the store to the other.
As Liam and I fill paper bags with jelly beans,
he sings at the top of his lungs,
Beans, beans! Good for your heart!
The more you eat, the more you—
Mrs. Finnick, the owner of the Henny Penny,
flies down the aisle and hushes Liam
before he gets to the best part of the song.
I worry she’ll kick us out of the store
forever. That would be inconvenient.
I worry I might never get to eat another jelly bean
again. That would be tragic.
Georgia puts on a serious face,
apologizes for the disruption.
As soon as Mrs. Finnick turns her back, though,
Georgia’s lips lift into a smile
warm as the Arizona sunshine
and I don’t feel worried
anymore.
HOME STATE
Today’s Arizona-themed topic will be
local entomology, Ms. Treehorn announces the next morning.
Boh-rang, Tyson moans.
Well, I think it sounds absolutely fascinating! Sabrina says.
I slump down in my chair, frowning.
I learn enough about bugs
from my own kitchen these days.
The projector flickers.
A giant hairy scorpion
flashes onto the wall.
Everyone jolts back in their seats.
Sabrina nearly faints.
A few kids yelp.
I’m pretty sure one of them is Tyson.
If Liam wasn’t at the principal’s office,
Worst-Case Collin Page 4
