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Back The Year the Maps Changed Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Map
  6. Prologue
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. Acknowledgments
  74. About the Author
  75. About the Publisher

Anika put the remote down on her bedside table, then she closed her eyes and started rubbing both hands over her belly, taking deep breaths.

“Is she okay?” Sam asked.

Anika shook her head, eyes still closed. “She gets upset when the TV is turned off, but then she cries whenever the news is on.”

“How come?”

Anika opened one eye to look at the two of us, and then closed it again. “I think she wants to know what’s happening over there.”

“In Kosovo?” Anika nodded.

“But—the war’s over, there hasn’t been much on the news . . .” I started to say, and it was true. Mostly it was stories about the safe havens now, and how the refugees in Australia were coping, or—according to some people—protesting and being ungrateful, and when they should go home.

“I think that’s the problem.” Anika opened her eyes and reached for Sam’s hand for support while she adjusted the pillows behind her back. “I think it’s the not knowing that scares her the most.”

We talked a while longer before we heard, “Time’s up, I’m afraid!” and the nurse was back, sticking her head into the room and, I thought, smiling a little meanly at the three of us.

When she left, Anika rolled her eyes. “Okay, my darlings—until next time!”

And for the first time in ages, I watched Sam hug his mom—actually get his arms as far around her as he could, and I watched Anika squeeze her eyes shut and hug him back.

There wasn’t any room for me, so I stepped away and headed to the door. I looked back at Nora’s shadow behind the curtain, then Sam joined me and we walked away, the sound of the TV volume going back up and echoing behind us.

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31

A Pattern of Routine

Animals don’t need maps, but they follow them anyway—even if they don’t know it. They go where they need to eat and breed, chasing the seasons. And even though they don’t follow any direction that’s written down, they know the way—called migratory patterns—and they never change.

Humans do the same, I guess—except we call repeated movement “routine,” which is what Luca, Sam, and I had over those holidays.

Pop still couldn’t drive, so Sam and I continued to catch the bus to see Anika by ourselves. Pop also didn’t come up to the big house as much. He said the garden path seemed to have grown longer while he was away, so he spent a lot of his time in the apartment by himself.

“Give him time, Freddo,” Luca said one morning, when Pop hadn’t come up for breakfast.

“How much time?”

“As much as he needs.”