Walking Backward Read Free Page A

a snake climbed inside. Snakes are afraid of cars. I figure someone put the snake there on purpose. Maybe they knew Mom had a phobia and they wanted her to crash the car, and it wasn’t an accident at all. That’s what the police thought at first. But they gave up trying to figure out who did it. They ruled it an accident. I’m still looking for a better answer.
    It’s hard to explain to people about Mom’s phobia. Everyone thinks, “Why did she ram her car into a tree?” And the answer, “Because there was a snake in the car and she spazzed out,” isn’t a good answer. Sometimes I tell people the car went out of control because of mechanical difficulties. But it didn’t. She just drove into a tree.
    I’m afraid she’ll get a Darwin Award for this. There’s a group called the Darwin Society that gives awards to people who die doing stupid things. Their stupidity caused their death, so it’s like natural selection. Of course, the dead person isn’t around to accept the award—but who would want an award for being incredibly stupid?
    For example, a school bus broke down during an animal-safari field trip. The bus was like a cage that kept the visitors safe while tigers and baboons roamed free outside it. The class had been warned to stay in their seats and not to leave the vehicle for any reason. But the driver went out to fix the bus anyway. The tigers killed him. They went straight for his throat. He won a Darwin Award because that’s a stupid way to die.
    But I don’t think it’s all that stupid. Imagine being stuck in a bus full of noisy kids for god knows how long, listening to them fight and cry and sing, “I know a song that gets on everybody’s nerves.” The driver would want to leave just to get away from them. I’m surprised he tried to fix the bus instead of just making a run for it.
    But that’s the kind of thing you get a Darwin Award for. Driving into a tree because there’s a snake in your car would probably qualify.
    My best friend Simpson went on an animal-safari trip with his family once. He said it was awesome. He said you’d have to be an idiot to get out of your car.
    Simpson lives two streets over from me, but he’s moving in a few days. His dad moved out a long time ago, and his mom just found a new house for them. It’s in another subdivision, with its own junior high school. That’s a harsh blow, because Simpson has been my best friend since kindergarten. I have a lot of friends, but none as close as him. Even if he sucks at piercing, there’s no way I’d let any of my other friends even try to do my eyebrow. His new place is so far away it would take a very long time to bike there. Dad is so wrapped up in his time machine he’ll never drive me. So not only will Simpson be gone from my school, he’ll be gone from my whole life. That sucks.
    At least school will be somewhere to go. I’m bored. If Mom were here, she’d drive us to sports camps and take us on camping weekends. Or she’d come home like it was a normal day, but then after dinner she’d walk into my room and say, “Hey, Josh, I bought you a new game that gets high user ratings.” Or she’d finish her work and ask, “Anyone want to play Clue?” which we played for Kit Kat sticks. Sammy always went on Mom’s team and gave away half her cards. Dad took it very seriously and hid his checklist under the table while he ticked off weapons. It was fun. Mom was a good person to have in the family because without her, we’re all just locked in our rooms trying to drum up strong feelings to write about.
    I just heard hysterical mewing, so I peeked into Sammy’s room. He snuck into the storage cubby at the back of his closet and found his old baby clothes. He has them spread across his bed and he’s putting them on the cats. They don’t like it, and it’s degrading and everything, but man, they look cute. Cleo is trying to keep her dignity in teddy bear overalls and a bonnet. Charlie is wearing blue velvet