Building Blocks Read Online Free Page B

doorway. Kevin grabbed his arm and they moved together down a dark hall. “Stairs,” Kevin whispered into Brann’s ear, “eighteen.” He kept a light grip on Brann’s arm.
    Brann stepped out into the darkness and counted eighteen steps down, bare wood. On the lower floor the hallway was carpeted. Kevin crept along the hall at a snail’s pace, his hand now painfully tight on Brann’s arm.
    â€œDown ten, then a landing, down another twenty.” The words were breathed into Brann’s ear. Brann could feel the tenseness in the boy’s body.
    But why was Kevin scared? It was his own house. Kevin was more scared even than Brann, and Brann was moving around in darkness in a place he’d never seen before.
    They crossed the ground floor. Brann saw dark, hulking shapes of furniture, dark doorways, and lighter window panes. He didn’t think, he just followed the boy beside him. They stepped out onto a small porch and down five steps to a cement walk. It was lighter outside, and Brann saw Kevin’s face white in the moonlight.
    â€œGrandma’s getting senile,” Kevin said. “It was after her stroke last winter. But it scares her when she can’t remember things, or hears things that aren’t there. It scares her when there’s—an uproar. It’s dangerous for her to be scared because if she has another stroke she’ll probably die.”
    â€œMy grandfather got senile,” Brann said, to show that he sympathized. “But I never knew what it meant. I was too little, and they put him in a home. Your grandmother doesn’t seem bad. I wonder why they put my grandfather away?”
    â€œAway?”
    â€œIn a nursing home. They didn’t let kids visit. I can’t remember him at all. I only ever had one grandmother.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œMy other one, my father’s mother, died when he was young.”
    The night was warm, with a faint breeze to rustle the leaves of the trees. The humidity was high so the air hung close.
    â€œThat’s the garage. There’s a side door.”
    â€œIs it locked?”
    â€œWhy should it be locked?”
    A long, hooting sound slid through the dark air, coiling like a snake. Then Brann heard the train rushing along behind it. “Are you coming with me?”
    Kevin shook his head. He was scared to go with Brann. He was littler than Brann, so Brann tried to be understanding; but he didn’t feel understanding. Brann didn’t want to go on alone into that dark place. He didn’t want to be left alone. “What about tomorrow?” he asked, to keep the other boy’s company a little longer.
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œCould you find me and take me inside? As if you just found me?”
    â€œWhat’ll you tell them?”
    â€œWho? Your parents? Can we tell them I go to your school?”
    â€œThey could find out it’s not true.”
    â€œDo they know everybody in your school?”
    â€œI don’t know. Brann? Maybe you should go somewhere else.”
    â€œBut I can’t, not tonight. Where else could I go?” But in a dream, you went places without traveling. Brann sighed. He would get no help from this kid. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll think of something.”
    â€œI guess so,” the boy said reluctantly.
    It has to be a dream, Brann announced to himself. He stepped out confidently, without looking back, as he would in a dream.
    Kevin didn’t wait to see what happened. Brann heard him scuttering back toward the house.
    Brann walked up to the low, dark building and turned the knob on the door. It opened easily. A truck was parked inside, an old-fashioned pickup with slatted sides to its back section and a rounded hood. The one-car garage smelled of gas and oil. The truck had a running board.
    Brann gave himself extra credit for details in this dream and pulled down on the door handle. He climbed up onto the