A Walk Through a Window Read Online Free PDF Page A

Darby managed to stay on her feet, but she wrenched her ankle just a little on the landing. She walked back, picked up her board and limped over to the swing, swaying gently under the big shady trees.
    She sat on the swing, one toe on the skateboard at her feet. A minute’s rest wouldn’t hurt. Her ankle had stopped stinging already. She couldn’t move much and still keep her foot on the board, but that was okay since she didn’t feel like swinging anyway. If she made time to practise like this every day, she’d be an expert by the time she got home. As long as she didn’t hit any more rocks.
    She remembered getting the skateboard for her last birthday. There had been only a week or so left before the snow arrived, so she didn’t really get any good practice time in. But as soon as spring arrived, she worked onmastering a long stretch of pavement at school, and then it was time to hit the road.
    Yonge Street.
    The longest street in Canada. It ran north from her house near Lawrence Avenue up through Thornhill and Richmond Hill and Aurora. Who knew how far it actually went? It was way longer than the Confederation Bridge. And one day Darby planned to skate the whole thing, hills and all. But first things first. When she got her board, her primary goal was to master the Eaton Centre. And that meant travelling Yonge Street the other way—down toward the lake.
    All Darby’s friends at school had done it. The good boarders said they had, anyway. Apparently the key is in the speed, though of course route planning is also essential. Darby’s friend Sarah has been skateboarding since before she could walk. At least, that’s what she tells everybody. Sarah said the Eaton Centre was just a matter of watching for the security guards and skating right on their tails. They’d never even know Darby was there.
    Easy. According to Sarah.
    Darby leaned back on the swing and looked up at the clear blue sky dappled with shadows from the leaves of the huge tree. Everything had been going according to plan for conquering the Eaton Centre, until her parents started to whisper.
    She first noticed it at the dinner table. It had been some ordinary discussion about her day at school and how much homework her lame science teacher had loaded on—but somehow it ended up as a heated whisperingmatch between the parental units. Soon the whispering progressed into an exchange of furious glares and even worse—silences. And it wasn’t just at one dinner—oh, no. Once Darby had clued in, she could see the signs everywhere. Her parents would stop talking when she entered the room. Or they’d change the subject, and Darby began hearing undertones in every conversation.
    I’m no idiot
, she thought.
I can read the signs
. Darby had watched enough daytime TV to recognize what was happening. After all, it wasn’t like she was the first kid whose parents ever split up.
    But it still felt like a body blow when she found out they were dumping her with her grandparents for the summer. Not that they told her anything. As far as anyone knew, it was all about some stupid household renovation.
    Sure.
    Darby lay in bed the night before she left for Charlottetown and tried to imagine what it would feel like to be divorced. Would she live part-time with one parent like Sarah did with her dad? Or maybe she wouldn’t even get to see her dad anymore. Caitlyn Morris, from gym class, claimed she hadn’t seen her dad since she was eight.
    But that wasn’t the worst of it.
    The worst of it was …
    Something hit Darby on the head.
    She shook herself out of the reverie and looked around. Sure enough, there was a chestnut on the ground. But where …? And the feeling was back. Like someone was in the trees watching her.
    The branch above her head rustled and Darby lookedup, startled. A large grey squirrel sat staring at her with bold black eyes. In both paws he held a giant chestnut.
    “So it was you, was it?” she said to the squirrel, with a shaky laugh.