Chicken stuck his head behind the bicycle wheel and pulled out Rowan’s soccer ball. It was gone soft and he bit into it. He was snuffing and drooling and shaking his head and he was going to make it burst. I stood up and when the fuzz went away I chased and chased his jumpy body all over the grass. He ran around to the back of the house and I followed him and stopped by the back door. It was open a little bit. No one ever went in that way. It didn’t even have steps. Chicken hopped right off the ground and disappeared inside. Gloria must’ve forgot to close the door. She kept doing that lately, leaving the milk out or not flushing the toilet. “I’m just so damn tired,” she said.

I climbed up after Chicken. It was extra dark inside. “You bad thing!” I yelled into the hallway. But Chicken wasn’t listening. Chicken was gone. I crept forward. My heart thumped inside my ears. I felt along the wall and went into the kitchen. I flicked the switch and the big rectangle light on the ceiling buzzed on. The kitchen was empty and strange. Like it was still my house, but other people might live there. On the counter there was an empty can of beans and an open bag of bread with some slices spilled out. There were two plates next to the bread, but they didn’t look like our plates. Maybe Mrs. Spooner brought something on them.

Chicken started barking. It sounded like he was under me, but that was impossible. I took off my shoes and went back into the hallway. I turned on another light. Then I saw a weird thing I didn’t see before. The door to the basement was open, too. Not much, but enough for Chicken to squeeze his skinny fur body through. I looked at that door. I wasn’t sure what to do. What if Gloria found Chicken bouncing around in there with a wet ball and making a mess? What if I went down and saw the surprise she was working on? She’d know. Even if I didn’t touch a thing.

I opened up the door. It was all black down there. I couldn’t even see the bottom stairs. There was a breeze and a loud hairdryer sound coming up from below. On my tiptoes, I went one step at a time. I held onto the rail. The more down I went, the louder the whish got. Cold and dark went on my face. It smelled bad. Maybe Chicken had an accident. When I got to the bottom I reached through the air and pulled the string. I had my eyes shut tight, but I still wanted the light turned on.