Free Eleven by Patricia Reilly Giff

restaurant, one table had been set up in the middle of the room for all of them. Even Onji's daughter, Ellie, was there.
    Anima, her face red from the heat of the oven, brought out one tray after another, nodding at Caroline. “I love the cabinet Mack made for me, and someday Sam will be able to do the same thing.”
    Sam looked toward the side of the room. Mack had used pine; he'd carved figures of birds into it, the birds they saw out back. He'd used antique brass for the handles and hinges.
    Sam thought about what Anima had said. He couldn't do something like this cabinet yet, but someday he would. Mack's words:
“You have a gift.”
    Could you have only one gift? He needed more. He needed Caroline to stay; he needed to know more about himself, Sam Bell. And suppose he could read? Thinking about having all of it was almost like telling himself the fairy tales Anima read, with genies and godmothers granting wishes.
    Onji spread his hands wide. “Pretty sad when my greatest accomplishment is a hot pastrami sandwich.”
    Sam looked across the table at Caroline. She was grinning at him. She remembered the first day in the cafeteria with the pastrami sandwich and the Gummi Bears. “Your sandwiches are the best,” she told Onji. “Sam is so lucky.”
    Anima sat, and they began to eat, crunchy vegetables in a thick, spicy coating. “Will you stay and listen to me read tonight?” Anima asked Caroline.
    “Of course,” Mack said. “Sam and I will drive her home afterward.”
    “Good,” Anima said, going to the kitchen for more food.
    “I'll stay too,” Ellie said. “A great dinner, then reading afterward. Anima's stories.” She tapped Onji's shoulder. “Remember that one about the old Iroquois legend? The islands the Creator dropped in the river, thousands of them?
    Wasn't it where you and Mack grew up, where all of us were born?”
    Mack said, “I'll go help Anima,” and Ellie said, “I will too,” and by the time they came back with almond pudding in small flowered bowls, the story was forgotten.
    Except that it was all Sam thought about for the rest of the meal. “…
where all of us were born.”
It was the place he wanted to know about.

15
The Media Center
    It rained the next morning, with thunder rolling across the sky, and even though Sam and Eric ran from the bus across the schoolyard, their shirts were soaked.
    Sam went into the classroom, stamping the water out of his sneakers. Caroline was standing at her desk, squeezing the ends of her hair, drops of water spraying the desk in front of her.
    A sub was there today. Caroline motioned to Sam and whispered, “Let's go down to the Media Center.”
    They slipped out and went down the hall. “Great to have a sub,” Sam said. “She'll never miss us.” He jumped up to touch the ceiling light. “Ellie was talking last night—” he began.
    “Yes. She said something about thousands of islands. Maybe ten thousand.”
    They pushed open the doors. A kindergarten class was having a story hour, and Mrs. Hurd, the librarian, glanced up absently. “You might have dried yourselves off.”
    “Just using the computer,” Caroline said. “We'll be careful.”
    They sat next to each other, Caroline's notebook between them. “You know how to use the computer?” she asked.
    “Anyone can press a button.” He grinned at her, but he was shivering. Maybe it was because his shirt was still wet, sticking to him, or maybe it was because of what might be there on the computer.
    Caroline tapped his arm. “Punch in ‘ten thousand islands.’ ”
    Easy to punch in 10,000. He hesitated, but how to spell
islands 7 .
    She didn't wait; she leaned over to type it in for him, and instantly, a page of blue came up with numbers that stood out and were repeated over and over among the words.
    “Florida,” she said.
    He whispered it, closing his eyes.
Florida?
    Mack's driver's license.
    Caroline began to read. “Everglades, vacation paradise, boating. There are pictures