During the summer Joel and I trapped animals in the spring box traps we found in the garage. The traps didn’t hurt the animals but we quickly learned that setting them free could pose a problem, as the animals were usually in a pretty foul mood by the time we got to them. Mostly we caught rats and raccoons. One Sunday we went out to find we’d trapped a skunk. Even though it was my turn to release, I talked Joel into letting it out. As he opened the cage door, he got the full spray of the polecat’s wrath. My mother made Joel bathe in tomato juice and vinegar, then she burned his clothes in the fireplace. He didn’t talk to me the rest of the day, which I didn’t mind since he still smelled like the skunk.

This morning I felt like I had trapped something really big in the clubhouse.

I pulled on a T-shirt and Levi’s and went out to the kitchen. My mom was at the stove wearing her pink flannel robe. Joel sat at the table eating.

“Good morning,” my mom said cheerfully. “I didn’t hear you come in last night.”

“You were already asleep.”

“How do you want your egg?”

“Scrambled. And may I have three eggs this morning?”

“Three?” She turned to look at me, her eyebrows raised.

“I’m just really hungry. Must be a growth spurt or something.”

She began cracking eggs into a bowl. “It snowed a lot last night.”

I looked out the window. The storm had dropped more than a foot of snow on the ground. I thought of the clubhouse and hoped the roof had held.

“I’m driving Dad to Uncle Norm’s this morning. You boys want to go?”

“Yeah, Daddy-o,” Joel said.

“Don’t say that,” my mom said. “It’s not respectful.”

“Sorry.”

I didn’t think he sounded very sorry.

Uncle Norm had a two-story home with a color television on each floor. Dad and Norm would sit in the two La-Z-Boy chairs and watch football while Aunt Geniel fed us. There was always lots of food: hot dogs, potato salad, and the best baked beans in the world, the kind with brown sugar and strips of bacon laid across the top. While the adults watched football, Joel and I would start up a game of Risk or Monopoly. Aunt Geniel usually baked chocolate chip or sugar cookies. As far as I was concerned, Uncle Norm’s was the only good thing about moving to Utah so I surprised even myself when I said, “I’m not sure.”

Joel looked at me stunned.

“I’ve just got some things I need to do.”

“Like what?” Joel asked.

“I’ve got a school project, sort of.”

My mother dished the eggs onto a plate. “Well, make up your mind. We’re leaving in fifteen minutes.”

Joel stared at me incredulously.