I still wasn’t sure what to put for a third way me and Bertie were different. But it could wait until tomorrow. When Bertie sat down right next to me in the cafeteria, we could talk about it, and I could write it down then. I folded my eyeball paper and slid it into my backpack.

It sounded quiet in the kitchen.

Maybe my mom had fixed the sink. Maybe everything was good now, really good, and she had spotted the Safety Squad Parent Acknowledgment Form. And now she was reading it and looking for a pen to sign it. And now she was seeing that I’d already found her a pen.

I imagined her signing the form real quick, right this second. She didn’t have to worry about writing her name real neat and tiny. She could scribble it. When you’re a grown-up, nobody cares how you write your name. I imagined her folding the paper in half and writing my name on the front in all capital letters.

Then I heard more clanging and a couple of loud bangs. I heard the door to my mom’s room open and close.

I asked the phone lady to find me chapter four of Ms. G.’s golden-sticker book. And guess what. Those two kids did end up being friends. They had to keep the magical forest kingdom safe from the giants, but they could only go there in times of greatest joy and times of greatest sorrow.

My time of greatest joy was definitely at the fair last summer. My mom let us get wristbands, and we went on all the rides and stayed the whole day.

I didn’t know what my time of greatest sorrow was. I’d have to think about that some more. I could think of plenty of little sorrows, but not a great big one.

11. Slate

When I went into the kitchen the next morning, the Safety Squad Parent Acknowledgment Form was still on the counter. I saw it had gotten a little splattered during yesterday’s fight with the sink. There was a line of light spots running away across the page.

I wondered what would happen if I signed my mom’s name, if that would be like breaking the law or something. I moved the pen closer to the thick line at the bottom. Now it really was ready for her to sign before she went to work. I ate some cereal, got my backpack, and headed out.

It wasn’t raining, but it wanted to. The sky was solid slate and hanging too close. When I walked by the For Sale field, the wind flattened all the wheat or whatever in one direction. Then it changed its mind and flattened it all the other way.

I was at school before the crossing guard and the sidewalk Safety again. And when I looked for Bertie in the cafeteria, she wasn’t there yet, either.