windows. And a secret trapdoor with a rope ladder on the bottom,” Christopher said excitedly.
“But why would you need a secret door?” Matt asked.
“Because it’s cool. Duh,” Mike said.
“Let me see those,” Special Ed said, grabbing the papers out of Matt’s hands.
He studied them skeptically, like a surveyor, in between sips of Yoo-hoo. Christopher saw that Special Ed was getting bacon grease on the corners of the blueprints. It made him a little mad, but he didn’t say anything. He needed his friend’s help. After a moment, Special Ed slid the papers back to Christopher.
“Impossible. We could never build anything like that by ourselves,” he said.
“Yes, we could,” Matt said. “Our uncle George is a—”
“—handyman,” Mike said, stealing his little brother’s thunder. “We helped him last summer. We could figure it out.”
“But it’s already November. It’s cold as hell,” Special Ed cautioned.
“Are you a girl?” Mike asked.
“I don’t know. Are you?” Special Ed replied skillfully.
“Come on, Eddie. It’ll be our own private clubhouse,” Christopher said.
“What’s so fun about going out into your backyard and building some stupid tree house thirty feet from your warm living room with a real TV?”
“Because we’re not building it in my backyard,” Christopher whispered. “We’re building it in the Mission Street Woods.”
You could have heard a pin drop. Suddenly, the gravity of the plan was revealed. This was not some backyard excursion. This was high adventure. This was breaking rules. This was…
“Awesome,” Special Ed whispered.
“But that’s trespassing,” Matt said.
“No shit, Sherlock. That’s what’s so awesome,” Special Ed replied.
“I don’t know,” Mike said. “The Collins Construction Company has fences everywhere.”
“Are you a girl?” Special Ed asked. The “touché” was silent.
“Not everywhere,” Christopher said. “There is a path to the woods in my backyard. We don’t need to jump the fence there or anything. But we’ll need tools.”
“Easy,” Special Ed said, now the plan’s biggest champion. “My dad has a garage full. He never uses them.”
“What about wood?” Christopher asked, although he knew the answer.
“Collins Construction has scrap piles all over the place,” Mike said.
“And our uncle has plenty of loose nails,” Matt added, as if trying to matter.
The planning went on like that for the rest of lunch. The boys figured out that they could beg, borrow, or steal almost everything they needed except for shingles and a doorknob and windows. But Special Ed’s dad had a collection of old Playboy magazines and a color Xerox and a neighborhood full of older kids.
So, money could be raised.
Of course, the Collins Construction Company had a strict no-trespass policy. And Special Ed knew from his dad that Mr. Collins had been cutting down parts of the woods to build subdivisions. So, this was illegal. But somehow, that was part of the appeal.
“Breaking the law! Breaking the law!” Special Ed said, singing a line from one of his mother’s favorite songs from her college days.
“But what about our parents?” Matt asked.
Oh, right. Their parents. Hmmm.
They didn’t see how their parents would ever agree to let them run around in those woods alone. Especially after Christopher went missing. Maybe Special Ed’s father could be conned, but their mothers? Never.
His friends were stumped, but the problem actually felt good in Christopher’s brain. Kind of like a combination of a long stretch in the morning and a back scratch. As he thought of solutions, he realized that for the last two minutes, his head wasn’t hurting. He actually had an idea.
A sleepover.
Of course.
They could bring sleeping bags and have a sleepover at the tree house. If they each told their parents they were staying with the other, they could work Saturday night all the way through Sunday. It was a risk. The moms would call to check on them. But with cell phones, maybe they could get away with it. Either way, they could work for almost two whole days without interruption.
Mike loved the idea. Matt seemed scared to be in the woods, but he didn’t dare say anything in front of his brother. So, he agreed.
“Can I be in charge of the food?” Special Ed asked.
“Sure, Eddie.”
With the plan settled, Christopher sat back and looked at his friends, giddy and loud with excitement. But to Christopher, the room was almost silent as the pain quietly crawled back into his mind. He didn’t mind the headache. He was getting used to them by now. He was just relieved that his friends were helping him build the tree house because without them, he knew he couldn’t have finished it in time.