Later that afternoon, Mrs. Waller started off Spanish class by saying, “This has been a trying time for all of us, and many of you missed class last week. Considering the nature of the crisis our country was facing, I think it’s understandable. As such, no one will be penalized for their absence.”

The class erupted, especially the basketball players on the back row who, for the most part, had taken the opportunity to skip school and were now slapping and ribbing their friends who had come.

Mrs. Waller loudly cleared her throat. “Back to order, class.” She waited until the classroom settled. “Thank you. Also, I’m sure you all heard Principal Allen’s announcement about one of your classmates, Madeline Webb. If anyone has seen Madeline or knows where she is, please see me after class.”

I’m sure it was my imagination, but it seemed like her gaze kept returning to me. I probably looked terrified or guilty or both.

“All right, let’s get back to work. Turn to page one hundred and seventeen in your text. Today we are studying the adverb where.” While I was frantically flipping through the pages of my textbook, Mrs. Waller walked from the blackboard to the center of the room near my desk. “¿Dónde estás, Eric?

I looked down at my book then back at her. “Uh, I’m here.”

A few students laughed.

“Yes, I can see that. Now please answer in Spanish.”

I blushed. “Sorry. Yo, aqui.”

“Muy bien. Eric, can you say, ‘Where is Madeline?’?”

After a moment I said, “I don’t know where she is, ma’am.”

This time everyone in the room laughed. “No, I want you to say in Spanish, ‘Where is Madeline. ¿Dónde está Madeline?”

“Oh.” I turned crimson. “¿Dónde está Madeline?”

“Muy bien.”

I was glad when the bell rang.

As soon as I got home I went straight to the clubhouse. Grace had been painting watercolor pictures of flowers. I had no idea where she had acquired the painting supplies, but I didn’t ask.

“Everyone at school’s looking for you,” I blurted out.

She looked at me calmly. “What do you mean, everyone?”

“Principal Allen made an announcement. Mrs. Waller even talked about you in class.”

“You didn’t tell anyone where I was, did you?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“What if someone finds out?”

“How will they find out? I’m in a clubhouse in a field behind your house.”

“But what if they do?”

“It’s no worse than if I go back.”

“But, if they find you…”

She looked at me with sudden understanding. “Are you afraid for me or for you?”

I hesitated. “Both.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me. I can handle me.”

The conversation wasn’t going the way I had hoped. “The question is,” I said, failing to conceal my exasperation, “when are you going back to school?”