about an hour, I’d say.”
“Good.” I was ready to get back to my family. They would be able to explain what had happened.
Sixty minutes later we entered the city limits of the town where my parents now lived. It was late afternoon and the sun still shone.
“Do you want me to take you to your house?” Fred asked.
“Uh, well, I don’t know exactly where it is.”
“We can find out and I’ll drop you off. How’s that?”
I smiled at the stranger who had been so kind. “Okay. Maybe I’ll have you drop me off a little ways from the house though. I don’t know what Mom would say if she saw me getting out of your truck.”
“Sure, okay.”
We followed the directions I’d gotten from Google Maps. A short time later we turned onto a street that was supposed to be near mine. Fred stopped at the corner.
“How’s this?” he asked.
“This will work.” I reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it.”
“Hold on a second.” He reached across me into the glove box, pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen, and wrote something on it. “Here’s my phone number. If you can’t find your family, give me a call.”
I took the paper from him and shoved it in my pocket. “Thanks, Fred.”
“Good luck with everything, Morgan. I hope you figure it all out.”
I smiled. “Me, too.”
He nodded and I climbed out, taking my jacket with me, and shut the door. I watched as he drove off, feeling like my only friend had just left.
Chapter Eleven
The neighborhood looked nothing like I had imagined. With the name “Timber Hills”, I’d pictured rolling hills and lots of trees. But this place was mostly concrete with a few sad-looking trees at houses where people evidently had hoped to help the place live up to its name.
I visualized the house I’d run away from, the one where I’d expected to find my family, the one I so recently hadn’t wanted to move to and knew I’d give anything to be back there with my family again.
Feeling discouraged by the gloomy looking neighborhood, I trudged forward. As I consulted my Google maps printout, I thought about what Fred had said about me being from another universe.
Is that even possible? And if it is, how does it work? The idea astounded me and I pushed it aside, not wanting to consider the ramifications when I was so close to finding my family.
Instead, I studied the houses as I walked. All of them were smaller than the one up north. For the most part the yards were unkempt, although there were a few that looked like they were taken care of. Graffiti covered most of the fences, and music blared from a house where a car was up on blocks.
When I saw a group of young men loitering at one house, I stared straight ahead, grateful they were on the other side of the street, and hoped they wouldn’t pay attention to me. As I passed, I heard sudden laughter and wondered if they were talking about me. Ignoring them, I hurried past and when I reached the end of the street I turned left onto what was supposedly my street.
Disappointed to see that the houses here looked even worse than the ones on the street I had just come down, I pressed forward, looking for my address. No one seemed to be around on this street and I was able to walk without incident. Finally my house came into sight and my heart pounded. I wasn’t surprised to see that my house was one with a tidy yard; Mom had always taken pride in the appearance of our house.
There were no cars in the driveway and I wondered if anyone was home. Cautiously, I approached the front door. Even though this was the address Mom had written in the email, I had never been here before and didn’t want to barge into a stranger’s house by mistake. I took hold of the doorknob and turned, but it was locked. I stepped off the porch and walked toward the back gate.
As I approached the gate I heard barking and immediately recognized Goldie’s bark. Relief flooded me when I knew I had
“Good.” I was ready to get back to my family. They would be able to explain what had happened.
Sixty minutes later we entered the city limits of the town where my parents now lived. It was late afternoon and the sun still shone.
“Do you want me to take you to your house?” Fred asked.
“Uh, well, I don’t know exactly where it is.”
“We can find out and I’ll drop you off. How’s that?”
I smiled at the stranger who had been so kind. “Okay. Maybe I’ll have you drop me off a little ways from the house though. I don’t know what Mom would say if she saw me getting out of your truck.”
“Sure, okay.”
We followed the directions I’d gotten from Google Maps. A short time later we turned onto a street that was supposed to be near mine. Fred stopped at the corner.
“How’s this?” he asked.
“This will work.” I reached for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it.”
“Hold on a second.” He reached across me into the glove box, pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen, and wrote something on it. “Here’s my phone number. If you can’t find your family, give me a call.”
I took the paper from him and shoved it in my pocket. “Thanks, Fred.”
“Good luck with everything, Morgan. I hope you figure it all out.”
I smiled. “Me, too.”
He nodded and I climbed out, taking my jacket with me, and shut the door. I watched as he drove off, feeling like my only friend had just left.
Chapter Eleven
The neighborhood looked nothing like I had imagined. With the name “Timber Hills”, I’d pictured rolling hills and lots of trees. But this place was mostly concrete with a few sad-looking trees at houses where people evidently had hoped to help the place live up to its name.
I visualized the house I’d run away from, the one where I’d expected to find my family, the one I so recently hadn’t wanted to move to and knew I’d give anything to be back there with my family again.
Feeling discouraged by the gloomy looking neighborhood, I trudged forward. As I consulted my Google maps printout, I thought about what Fred had said about me being from another universe.
Is that even possible? And if it is, how does it work? The idea astounded me and I pushed it aside, not wanting to consider the ramifications when I was so close to finding my family.
Instead, I studied the houses as I walked. All of them were smaller than the one up north. For the most part the yards were unkempt, although there were a few that looked like they were taken care of. Graffiti covered most of the fences, and music blared from a house where a car was up on blocks.
When I saw a group of young men loitering at one house, I stared straight ahead, grateful they were on the other side of the street, and hoped they wouldn’t pay attention to me. As I passed, I heard sudden laughter and wondered if they were talking about me. Ignoring them, I hurried past and when I reached the end of the street I turned left onto what was supposedly my street.
Disappointed to see that the houses here looked even worse than the ones on the street I had just come down, I pressed forward, looking for my address. No one seemed to be around on this street and I was able to walk without incident. Finally my house came into sight and my heart pounded. I wasn’t surprised to see that my house was one with a tidy yard; Mom had always taken pride in the appearance of our house.
There were no cars in the driveway and I wondered if anyone was home. Cautiously, I approached the front door. Even though this was the address Mom had written in the email, I had never been here before and didn’t want to barge into a stranger’s house by mistake. I took hold of the doorknob and turned, but it was locked. I stepped off the porch and walked toward the back gate.
As I approached the gate I heard barking and immediately recognized Goldie’s bark. Relief flooded me when I knew I had
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