Once on the other side, I stumbled and nearly fell forward. The van had parked on top of my very sloped roof.
“Whoa!” I said, contorting to regain my balance as the van closed its own door behind me. I dropped back on my butt, barely keeping ahold of the bag and the plant.
“Can you take me down to the ground?” I asked, turning to the van only to find it was already taking off. “Wait! Eddy!”
The van honked indignantly.
“I mean, Teddy! Come back! I don’t have a way down!”
But the old van shot into the sky, vanishing as it went.
Great.
I looked around, trying to get my bearings. I’d been up here before, but never without a ladder. I dropped down onto the garage roof, but from there I was stumped. The tree in our backyard looked too flimsy to hold my weight, and I wasn’t sure if I could make the jump anyway. The house next door had a broom on their porch, and I briefly wondered if I could fly. I wouldn’t want to find out by straddling a broom and jumping off the roof, though.
A door shut and I saw my neighbor, Mr. Kwan heading toward his mailbox. He must have sensed me because he turned and gave me the weirdest look. I waved as if it were perfectly normal for me to be on the roof without a ladder. Luckily, he didn’t say anything before heading inside.
I wouldn’t be able to get down with my arms full and there wasn’t a good place to set either of Bess’s gifts down. Could I drop them without breaking anything? Then I had an idea. I moved toward the giant lilac bush on the side of the house, then slowly lowered the canvas bag as far as I could toward the lilacs. Once I’d lowered it as much as I dared, I dropped it the rest of the way. The bag landed with an unsettling THUNK, but it didn’t sound like anything broke. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Now to get me down there. I decided that my best bet might be to try to drop down onto the garbage dumpster. I shimmied down to the edge and was gingerly trying to lower my feet, which was a lot scarier than I thought it would be, only to realize that I was still like six feet above the dumpster.
“What the blazes are you doing up there, hijito?”
I nearly dropped the plant. Somehow, I’d missed the arrival of the family minivan in the driveway.
A short woman with shoulder-length black hair, dark skin, and brown eyes was standing in the driveway, hands on her hips, somehow managing to look down at me menacingly from her position below. My predicament had simultaneously become easier and much much more complicated.
“Hey Mamá,” I said, pulling my legs back onto the roof. The rest of the family was still in the minivan. “How um, how was the barbecue?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
“Why weren’t you there?”
Great. We were doing this now.
“Um, I forgot about it?” I tried. It wasn’t a lie.
“How could you forget? James said he reminded you.”
I noticed both James’s and Camila’s faces were plastered to the van windows.
“I was distracted and went on a walk.”
“For three hours? Where did you go?”
“Um, I went by city hall and the police station and stuff.”
“That’s two miles away. And you did this all after your race?”
“Um, yeah.”
Mamá looked really agitated. “This is not like you. What are you not telling me, m’hijo?”
A heck of a lot, actually.
“I was just upset after the race.” Also not a lie.
Mamá still didn’t look convinced.
“What’s with the plant?”
“Don’t you think it will liven up my room?” I asked, holding the pot up.
“Es la cosa más fea que jamás he visto,” she said, which I didn’t think was very fair, given that Grandma’s dog was exceptionally ugly. “What’s wrong with your phone?” she asked. “I couldn’t call you. You didn’t respond to my texts. I couldn’t track it.”
My stomach tightened. I hated the tone of concern in Mamá’s voice.
“I’m sorry, Mamá. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
She held my eye for a few moments.
“Could you do me a teensy favor?”
She glared at me. Not the most promising start.
“Could you get a ladder?”
“What do you mean get a ladder? What’s wrong with the ladder you used?”
“I don’t have a ladder.”
“Then how did you get up there?” Mamá asked, looking genuinely confused. She stepped out of the way as my stepdad drove the van into the garage.
“I um–” I fumbled. “How um, how do you think I got up here?”
“I think your inflated ego floated you up there.”
“You nailed it,” I said, laughing nervously. “Now can you get a ladder?”
“Let me put it this way,” Mamá said. “I’ll get the ladder when you tell me what’s really going on.”
“Like I said, I just went on a long walk and went by the city hall and the police station.”
“What were you doing at the police station?” she asked.
“I wanted to check out the place,” I said.
“Is that true?”
I swallowed. “I promise you I haven’t done anything bad.”
She gave me another suspicious look, then walked into the house. A minute later, Mamá reappeared, hefting a ladder. A minute later, I slunk down guiltily, the potted plant in one arm.
“The bathrooms are filthy,” she said pointedly.
And I’d be cleaning them.