I had known that there would be someone moving into the house soon enough because the for sale sign had been taken down weeks ago. The yard's thick tall grass and sloppy looking cherry hedges made it seem like it had been abandoned for years now. It looked like the house itself was getting ready to fall down it had been so long since anyone lived there. Maybe it was two months, but I can't be sure.

I liked the Allens because they always gave out the best Halloween candy ' full size Reese's cups and Three Musketeers bars. And at Christmas time they used to put out a wonderful display of Christmas lights including a Santa on the roof, even though we had no chimneys in the neighborhood ' except for the Chodans ' they had everything ' including go-carts that they drove up and down the street after their folks got home.

The Allens also owned a bright red pick-up truck that they used to fill up with hay from Halloween to Thanksgiving and ride kids around the neighborhood. You could also get a pumpkin from them for a dollar. I never went. It looked like fun though.

My dad never cared for them and my mom didn't really have anything to say about them one way or another. They weren't bad people I guess but my dad always said that they seemed snobbish.

My mom told me that Mrs. Allen was pregnant and that Mr. Allen had taken a job in South Miami and that's why they were moving.

I was sitting in the tree in the front yard the day they moved out and watched as the neighbors all came out of their houses to wave goodbye. It was nice to see so many people coming out to do this and I was embarrassed when my mom and dad chose to stay inside to watch TV. I was pretty well hidden in the tree but saw at least a couple of people look over at our house and then say something. I don't know what they said, but I thought it probably wasn't very good. I thought that maybe I should come down out of the tree to let them know that I was looking but I didn't feel like being seen. I get nervous when people look at me or talk to me. I don't even really like it when they wave.

The for sale sign was put in front of the house the day the Allens left. Their house looked beautiful because they had it painted and planted flowers and fixed their broken sidewalk. I wondered why they bothered to do those things after they moved and my mom said that it would help them sell their house faster. I didn't understand why they would want to do all of that work after they had moved since it looked so nice.

'Why didn't they do that while they lived there?'� I asked.

'Maybe Mr. Allen's new job paid him enough so they could do it. Maybe they just couldn't afford to do it before,'� my mom said.

'Can we move there?'� I asked.

'No,'� my mother said, 'we can't afford to.

'What's the matter?'� my dad said. 'Our house isn't good enough for you?'�

'It's small and ugly,'� I said. 'And I hear you say you hate it all the time.'�

'Well that's something I'm allowed to say since I pay the goddamn mortgage. Don't you ever let me hear that crap come out of your mouth again,'� he said.

'I'm sorry.'�

'Sorry my ass. Go to your room.'�

'Listen to your father. I'll call you when it's time for dinner.'�

'Can I at least go outside to play?'�

'I said go to your goddamn room and don't come out until you're called.'�

I closed my door and heard my parents start to yell at each other again. I turned on the radio and that helped a little but I still heard them yelling in the background. They both use a lot of bad words.

Being alone in my room is no big deal. I actually like it a lot. Everything in there is mine. I have books and a record player and drawing stuff including a couple of Rapidograph ink pens I got from my dad when he got new ones, and my favorite thing ' a Stretch Armstrong doll. He's so cool. I think of everything I like him most of all. I also collect Olympics things and beer cans so I've got lots of shelves in my room to show these things off. I like looking at them and keeping them nice and neat on the shelves. So I don't mind being sent to my room sometimes. I like outside best of all though in my spot in the tree.

My favorite thing to do in my room is to draw. I'm not very good right now and that makes me mad. My school counselor, Ms. Wilson, says that I need to be more patient with myself and to not throw out everything when I make mistakes. She says that mistakes are like science experiments and that you need to finish an experiment to know how it's going to turn out ' just like a drawing. She tells me to take deep breaths when I get mad and wants to see my drawings. I don't think I'll show them to her because I'm embarrassed. My dad draws really well. I don't draw nearly as well as he does.

I've got lots of notebooks filled with things that I've copied from the funnies and from some of my dad's art books. I've been drawing a lot of superheroes lately that I copy from my comic books. My favorites are The Hulk and Captain America. I'll never be able to draw as good as the comic book artists, though. Ms. Wilson says I'll be able to draw better than them if I just try not to get so mad at myself. I meet with her on Thursday mornings. She's very nice to me.

***

I had school today. I ride the bus even though I don't like to. My mom and dad both work and they have to leave earlier than me to get to their jobs. My dad works in Miami and my mom works in Ft. Lauderdale. They leave at 7:00. I leave at 7:20. I'm not allowed to watch TV in the mornings because they think that I'll end up missing the bus so I have to do the morning dishes. It's not that big of a deal but I would much rather watch a cartoon. I did that once and missed the bus and so when he got home that night after work my dad drove me to my school and made me walk home. I don't know how far it was but I won't miss my bus again, ever.

I get to the bus stop at the last possible moment, usually running out the door as soon as I hear it stop down the street so that I don't have to talk with anyone. I'm lucky because everyone likes to sit in the back and make noises and play games so I get to sit up front by myself. I like looking out the big front window and to see the long metal arm of the door open and close when we pick up new kids or stop at a railroad crossing. Once in a while the kids will tease me and take my seat on purpose and I have to sit in the middle of the bus. I don't like it when they do that. It hurts my feelings and makes me mad.

I think about the Allen's house sometimes and wonder who's going to be moving in. I wonder if they're going to put up Christmas lights and give out good candy at Halloween. It'd be wonderful if they did that.

***

When the for sale sign was taken down I became more curious than ever and took to asking some of the adults on the street if they knew anything about the people moving in. No one on the street had any idea when they would be moving in, what the man did for a living, or whether or not they had kids or a dog. I asked people the same questions over and over again since the Allens had moved away but they always came up empty. My dad, tired of the incessant badgering finally blew up.

'How the hell should we know who's moving into the goddamn house? Are we their real estate agents? Are we their inspectors? The FBI? How on God's green earth do you expect us to know something we know nothing about?'�

I didn't understand his answers, except for the thing about the FBI.

'Because you're grown-ups, that's why,'� I said.

'Don't sass me. It's all I can do to remember where I keep my keys,'� my father said, 'let alone know anything about the world outside the walls of this house. There's no way I can know anything about who's moving in.'�

'Can you call the people who sold the house?'� I asked.

'I'm not calling anybody. Just go to your room.'�

I ignored him and went into the kitchen to get the phone book.

'Will the name of the people be in the phone book?'� I asked.

'You can check in the yellow pages under Realtors,'� my mother said.

'But you're never going to find it,'� said my father.

'How do you spell realtors?'�

My father gave a heavy, irritated sigh. 'Just bring me the book.'� He opened the book to the section and handed it back to me, pointing at the heading. There must have been hundreds of Realtors listed.

'See,'� he said.

I put the phone book back in the drawer and walked back to the living room.

'I'm going to my room.'�

I was curious about the people who were moving in because, even at nine my life was hopelessly dull and lonely. I had no friends to speak of. I had no one to hang out with at recess; no buddies to sit with at lunch; and no one to share a seat with on the bus. There was, simply, no one. So the thought that there might be a potential friend ' another person as needy as myself ' moving in just two doors down from me was frightening and thrilling at the same time. I'd never had a friend before so, like receiving a big box on Christmas morning that was feather light I closed my eyes and hoped for the best.

I was in my room imagining grand times playing tag football or drawing or watching the Six-Million-Dollar Man with this unknown, uncertain friend when I heard the rumble of the moving truck go past our house. I got up casually, slowly enough to try to convince myself that this was no big deal and headed back out to the living room.

'Don't you think we ought to go outside to take a look at our new neighbors?'� I looked out the front window and saw that the Flintoms were gathering in their driveway looking in the direction of the truck. Dot and Don from across the street ' a trollish couple who only came out to yell at kids for skidding into their gravel drive with their bikes ' were even outside on their stoop.

'Everyone's outside.'�

'So why don't you go on out there if you're so interested,'� said my mother, flicking the ashes of her cigarette into a dustpan that was lying near her chair. 'What are you waiting for?'�

'Yeah,'� my father said. 'Go on out there and check things out. And while you're out there why don't you remind Don that our front yard is not a turn-around and to stop driving his car up on our lawn.'� My father slurped from his coffee mug.

I spent the first few minutes just standing there on the landing before I felt comfortable enough to sidle up to the wall nearest to the activity. Carolyn and Bill, the neighbors separating me from the moving truck saw me peering from over the hedge and waved for me to come over and join them. I like Carolyn and Bill a lot. They're an older couple who sort of adopted me as their grandson about a year ago. They're always very kind. Every once in a while they invite me over for cookies. I usually stay for about a half an hour and when I leave, Carolyn sometimes reaches into her small purse and hands me a dollar or two. 'Don't tell anyone, okay?'� she says and I stuff the money into my pocket. So when they smiled at me and motioned for me to come over I went. I felt safe with them.

Three really big guys climbed out of the moving van as a man ' the homeowner, I guessed ' got out of an El Camino. My heart dropped when I saw that he was alone and I just stood there gawking like everyone else on the street. Mine was different than theirs though because mine was from hope drifting away from me once more.

'That's a small truck, one man. Looks like a bachelor might be moving in next door,'� Bill said. He looked down at me. 'Doesn't look like there's going to be any playmates for you Matthew.'�

'Now, Bill. Hush,'� Carolyn said.

'No, it's okay,'� I said. 'No problem. I just wanted to see the moving men. I've never seen moving men before. It's okay if he doesn't have kids.'�

Carolyn pulled me towards her side and rubbed my shoulder.

'I've got to get back,'� I said, pointing over to my house.

'Alright,'� Bill said. 'Have a good night.'�

I entered the house feeling sad and more alone than ever. My mom and dad were still in their same spots, doing the same things.

'So, what did you see over there?'� asked my mother.

'Nothing. Carolyn and Bill think it's a single guy moving in. There was no one with him and the truck's pretty small.'�

'How old's he look?'� my father asked.

'Uh, I don't know. He had a mustache.'�

'I just hope he's quiet,'� he said.

'We'll go introduce ourselves in a couple of days after he gets a little more settled,'� my mom said.

'Okay,'� I said. 'I'm going to play in my room.'�

I spent the rest of the day alone in my room thinking and brooding about no kids moving in. I felt sad when I tried going through the list of potential friends I might be able to get at school if I just tried harder again, and came up empty. I was lonely.

A couple of days later I was outside in the front yard considering some bugs in the lawn when an unfamiliar car drove down our street and stopped at the house two doors down. A woman climbed out of the car along with two kids, a boy and a girl, who looked to be about my age.

I didn't think much about the girl because I was desperate for another boy to play with. And when the man with the mustache came out, the kids ran to him yelling 'Daddy!'�

It looked like the boy and girl were staying and when they each pulled suitcases out of the trunk I knew this would be true. I was elated.

I ran inside and told my parents.

'Mom. Dad. I think that two kids just moved in. I saw them and it looks like it's his wife and kids and the kids, a boy and a girl look like they're my age! Can we go over there? It's been two days and you promised that we'd go over and introduce ourselves in two days. Can we go now?'�

'We can't go right now. He apparently hasn't seen his family in at least a few days,'� my mother said. 'Give them a couple of more days.'�

'A couple more days,'� I said. 'But you said'�'�

'Listen to your mother. If you're so anxious to meet them you can always go over tomorrow,'� said my father. 'Cool it, will you ' you're interrupting my show.'�

'But you'�'�

'Cool it!'�

I went to my room and slammed the door. The problem with waiting for tomorrow is that another kid in the neighborhood might make contact with them before me and then I'd be doomed. All the kids except for me had great friendships and rode skateboards and bikes and went to the community center and shot off firecrackers and did really cool things. They played baseball in the street in front of my house and tag football and all I could do was watch from the living room window. My parents always said I should just go out there and start playing. I always said that I'd other things to do. I wanted to be invited.

I was never invited because I draw a lot and read and am rather clumsy. I also don't really say the right things most of the time. I sound like my dad. I get into a lot of trouble at school. I've given up trying.

I drew a lot that night ' pictures of groups of people having fun and going to parties and playing tag; pictures of happy kids with happy friends and happy families. I drew everything that I didn't have.

I fell asleep, clutching my Stretch Armstrong doll and dreamt about the new kids who were sleeping just two houses away from me.

I woke up early this morning. My folks are arguing already and the sound of their bickering startles me. I try to ignore them but they're loud. They're always loud or they're always miserably silent. I cover my head and still hear them so I decide to get up and go play outside.

My folks are in their bedroom which is near the living room and I don't want to see them. It makes me sick to my stomach when they fight so I leave the house through the back door. It's more fun this way anyway because I can make a reason to jump the chain link fence. Dad keeps it locked so that no one will come in the back and steal the lawnmower.

I go to the front yard to sit in the tree. It's quiet there and gives me a good view of the kids down the street who are starting to gather for a game of kickball. There's Todd and Frankie and Doreen and Charlie and they're starting to kick the ball around. I've known them all my whole life but I've never once played with them. Charlie called me stupid once on the bus and all the kids thought that was very funny. I hate Charlie. He's mean.

I turn and look at the house with the new boy and girl. It doesn't look like anyone has come out yet this morning so it gives me hope that I'll be first to meet them. Maybe they've already seen all of the other kids down the street and have gone down there to play kickball. I'm sad again thinking about this.

A fly starts buzzing around me and startles me so I almost fall out of the tree. It scares me but I catch myself. I fall a lot. Maybe that's why no one wants to play with me. It's because I fall down a lot and they can't have people playing games and running when they're always falling. I don't know.

I look back at the house and wonder what the boy and girl are like. Does the boy like Stretch Armstrong? Does he like to draw? I wonder where they moved from. I'll ask them that. Maybe that will make them be my friends. I should go over there right now and introduce myself. Maybe they're eating breakfast ' their first breakfast in their new house. That must be pretty exciting. I wonder if their parents fight like mine or if they get along.

'Hey, Matthew. What are you doing way up there?'�

It's Bill. He's just come out to get his newspaper.

'Nothing. I'm sort of waiting for the new kids to come out so I can meet them.'�

'Well you won't be meeting anyone way up there,'� he says. 'Why don't you come on down.'�

I climb down to the lowest branch in the tree and hang there.

'My you're getting to be a strong one!'� Bill says. 'Really strong. I wish my muscles were as big and bumpy as yours are.'�

He makes me blush and I lose my grip and fall to the ground. I brush the grass off my knees. 'Good morning.'�

'Good morning,'� he says.

He looks over at my house. I can still hear my parents arguing and I know he can too.

'Have you had anything to eat this morning?'�

I shake my head no.

'You want to come over? I went out and got doughnuts this morning and there are too many for me and Carolyn. Would you like a doughnut?'�

I nod my head. 'Yes, please.'�

'Well come on then.'�

I crawl through the hedge and come out the other side with berry juice on my cheek. I wipe it on my sleeve as he squeezes me by the shoulder and leads me into his house. I like their house because everything's so plain and neat ' like everything belongs exactly where it is.

'Good morning Matthew,'� says Carolyn from the kitchen. 'Would you like some milk?'�

'Yes please.'�

Carolyn brings me a big cold glass of milk and a small plate.

'Take whichever one you want ' we've already had our fill,'� she says.

I look in the box and see four doughnuts: a Bavarian crème, plain cake, cream filled and a raspberry jelly one. I know they didn't eat eight doughnuts so I figure that they must have gotten a half dozen. We always get a dozen at my house and my dad always eats about six of them all by himself. His favorite is plain cake, so that's the one I choose.

'May I have that one, please?'�

'You don't want a filled one? Imagine that Car ' a kid picking out a plain doughnut. I've never seen such a thing.'�

'My dad likes plain.'�

'Well take whichever one you want.'�

I eat my doughnut and gulp down the milk. It tastes different than the milk we have at home. It's thicker and it tastes better.

'Are you going to go introduce yourself to the new kids today? They look to be about your age,'� she says.

I forgot about them since I came in the house and as I finish my doughnut and milk I stare out the window. I want to make sure that no one else gets to the new kids before me.

I'm waiting until later. Maybe if they come outside. Maybe then I'll go over. My mom said I should wait till tomorrow to go over as a family but my dad says that I can go over there today if I really can't wait.'�

'And you can't wait, can you?'�

'No, ma'am.'�

'Well, if you're that eager the maybe you should go back outside to wait,'� she says.

I wipe my mouth and head for the door.

'Wait a second, Matthew,'� she says as she walks over to her purse. She reaches into her wallet and pulls out a bill.

'Here you go.'�

It's five dollars.

I brighten up when she hands this to me. I've never received this much money unless it was Christmas or my birthday.

'Wow! Thank you very much!'�

'You're welcome,'� she says. 'It seems like a big day for you. You should probably tell your folks that you got this from us. Tell them that you helped Bill straighten up the utility room.'�

I skip out the door, crawl back through the hedge and take my spot back in the tree. I reach into my pocket and take out the five-dollar bill and stare at it. It's worn on the corners and I swear that it feels different than a one-dollar bill. I stuff the bill back into my pocket and wait. I sit in the tree for nearly an hour and no one has come out of the house. I can't hear my parents so I figure that they're done with their argument so I go inside.

'Well where the hell have you been?'� asks my father.

'Next door. I helped Bill clean his utility room. Look.'� I reach into my pocket and pull out the five-dollar bill one more time. 'Look what they gave me.'�

'Wow, five dollars,'� my mother says. 'You must have done some hard work over there.'�

'They gave me a doughnut and milk, too.'�

'Sounds like a nice little adventure.'�

My dad slurps his coffee. 'It'd be great if you worked that hard on cleaning your room.'�

'My room's clean. I worked on it yesterday after I finished drawing.'�

'Good.'�

I leave them, go to my room, put the money in the top drawer of my dresser, and take out a book. The book is 'Snoopy, Come Home,'� and I read it until I fall asleep on the floor.

It feels like hours have passed when I wake up and I panic. I run out through the living room and out the front door towards the hedge to see if the boy and the girl have come out. I don't see anyone. I turn around to look down the street. Charlie and the others have been joined by some more kids and are skateboarding and bicycling in front of Todd and Doreen's house. I don't see the boy and the girl down there. Maybe, I think, Charlie and them have enough friends and won't come to bother with the new kids. I can't be sure though and decide to go ahead and meet the boy and the girl on my own. I'm very nervous and scared but I know that if I don't go now then I'll miss my chance. Tomorrow is Sunday and all the kids will be in front of my house playing stickball or football. They always play something in front of my house on Sunday. I see them look at my house sometimes when I'm at the living room window. I know they see me. Sometimes the balls come into the yard but they keep playing, never inviting me out even though I live here.

I go inside to get my Stretch Armstrong doll.

'It's time for lunch, Matthew. Go wash up,'� my mother says as I start for the door.

'But I'm going to go over to meet the new kids.'�

'Well that's going to have to wait for just a little bit. Go wash up.'�

'But I don't want the other kids going over there before me.'�

'Too bad,'� my father says. 'You're just going to have to wait. Go wash up.'�

It's useless to argue with them because they'll just get mad at me and send me to my room for the rest of the day so I go to the bathroom and wash my hands. Our dining room is in the back of the house, so I can't see what might be going on outside.

'Slow down,'� my father says. 'You're eating too fast. You're gonna choke.'�

'Sorry.'�

I take my time even though it's killing me to do so. When I finish I have to wash my plate and help clean off the table.

'May I be excused?'�

'Put the meat and cheese away and then go wash your hands,'� my mother says.

I do what they tell me to do.

'May I be excused now, please?'�

'Go ahead,'� says my father.

I grab my doll and run out the front door, turning towards the hedge and crawl inside myself. Charlie and Todd and the rest of the kids are at the boy and girl's house.

It's too late.

I'm too late.

I walk back into the house and close the door softly so that my mom and dad can't hear me from the kitchen. I go back to my room and throw my Stretch Armstrong doll to the floor. I pull out my notebook and start tearing out all of the things I drew yesterday. All of the happy faces make me sick to my stomach and so I tear them all to bits and cry.

Later ' much later ' I come out of my room feeling heavy and go to the living room.

'Oh, Matthew. I thought you were over at the new kids' house. I'm surprised to see you. Did you have fun?'� my mother asks.

The Six-Million Dollar Man is on TV. I lay down on the floor with my Stretch Armstrong doll and put my head on a pillow.

'I was doing other things. I didn't go.'�

'Well, maybe tomorrow, then.'�

'Maybe.'�

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