Free No Passengers Beyond This Point by Gennifer Choldenko

arrives, this guy appears. He looks like my dad, with freckles, curly red hair, and bushy red eyebrows. His voice is different, his face is rounder, and he’s taller, but there’s clearly a resemblance. It’s as if someone studied a photo of my dad and then found a look-alike.
    This dad look-alike guy brings me a Philly cheese steak sandwich, onion rings, and soda. I dig in.
    “How’d you know I like Philly cheese steak?” I ask between bites.
    “This is your dream house. Of course we’ll stock it with your favorite foods.”
    “But how did you know what they are?”
    “Sparky told me.”
    “Sparky again.”
    He nods. “Look Finn, just take it on face value. If you think too much, worry about every little thing, you’ll get in your own way.”
    “How will I get in my own way?”
    “You’ll lose time.”
    “That doesn’t make sense.”
    “Sure it does. If you spend all your time worrying about the future, you can’t enjoy the present.” He takes a deep breath and starts again. “This time in your house is for you to enjoy. You need it to prepare you for your journey.”
    “To Uncle Red’s?”
    “If that’s where you want to go.”
    “What if it isn’t?”
    He shrugs. “You’ll have to consider other options.”
    What are my other options? I wonder. Going to live with Aunt Sammy and Uncle Tito? Mom said that wasn’t possible. Apparently I don’t have any other options. I’m not going to say that. I don’t want this guy to think I’m a loser with no place to go.
    “Ready for pie?” he asks. He seems to understand I want to drop the subject.
    “Yes,” I say as a screen in the back of the kitchen goes live with a movie clip of a basketball game I played in. Coach P. is giving me instructions from the sidelines like I’m one of his starting guys. That only happened once, but it was the best game of my life!
    Without me saying anything, my dad look-alike replays it over and over again.
    I’m not sure how many times I watch, before I finally pull myself away. Then we play basketball one on one until it gets dark. On the way inside I thank him for everything, then explain it’s time to go home.
    “Home?” he asks.
    “To Uncle Red’s then,” I whisper miserably.
    “You’re sure?”
    “Look, Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is. I need to know what’s going on here.”
    He smiles at this as if I’ve just given the answer to a difficult question. Together we walk to the center fireplace room, where he pushes a small button with a question mark. Within seconds a loudspeaker blares overhead. “Finn Tompkins, please step to the white courtesy phone. Finn Tompkins, white courtesy phone.”
    I head for the wall, pick out the icon with the white phone, and press it. As soon as it lights up, the court moves off on its track and a new room arrives. This room is small with a simple wooden alcove and a comfortable overstuffed armchair. In front of the chair is a white phone with no buttons, just a smooth dial-less face.
    “Finn Tompkins . . . the white courtesy phone,” the loudspeaker voice urges.
    I pick up the phone. “Hello?”
    “Finn Tompkins?” the computerized voice asks.
    “Yes.”
    “Sparky would like to see you.”

CHAPTER 11
    INDIA’S CAT
    I ’m used to knowing more than everyone else on account of Bing. He has in some knee-a, you know. You can find out a lot of things when you’re awake at night.
    In the morning Bing tells me what he learned the night before.
    Sometimes he wakes me up so I can hear too. Once I heard Mommy on the phone. She said she didn’t know if Maddy was the worst thing to happen to India or the best.
    She should have asked me. I know all about Maddy. She stole Mommy’s engagement ring. Mommy says I could have been “mistaken” and I’m supposed to stop talking about this, but Bing is never mistaken. Maddy and India were doing homework on the computer, and India went to make popcorn, which is the only food Maddy will eat at our house on account of Mommy