The Old Willis Place

animals, and she looked cozy and comfortable snuggled into it, a book propped up on her knees.
    After a while, Georgie nudged me. "Let's go for a ride on her bike."
    We climbed down quietly from the cinder block and ran silently across the yard to the shed. The bike leaned against the wall, its chrome handlebars bright in the moonlight.
    "Do you remember how to ride?" Georgie whispered.
    "Of course." I walked the bike to the long dirt driveway leading away from the house. "Wait here. I'll go first."
    "It was my idea," Georgie said. "I should go first."
    "This bike is different from your old Schwinn. It has gears and hand brakes like the Raleigh I used to have. Let me try it first and then I can show you how everything works."
    Georgie scowled and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "It's not fair. You aren't the queen of the world."
    "No, not of the whole world." I straddled Lissa's bike. "Just the queen of Oak Hill Manor."
    With that I pushed off and left Georgie behind. Ahead of me, the drive tunneled between massive oaks, dark with shadows, but lit here and there with patches of moonlight. The bike bounced over ruts. The cool night breeze blew in my face, bringing with it the smells of damp earth and fallen leaves. Exhilarated by speed, I hunched over the handlebars and pedaled hard. I imagined myself riding around the world, flying to the moon, coasting down the Milky Way. Like Georgie, I yearned to escape—to leave Oak Hill Manor forever.
    Five deer surprised me. They stood in the middle of the drive, their eyes on me, unsure what to do. I swerved around them as they dashed into the woods, graceful as gazelles. Somehow I managed to control the bike, but my dream of flying vanished into the shadows with the deer.
    The drive emerged from the trees into a grassy area. Just ahead was the locked gate and its "No Trespassing," "Private Property""Keep Out" signs. Beyond was the road—and the rest of the world.
    I laid the bike down in the weeds and went to the fence. Hidden in the underbrush, I watched the cars speed by, their headlights sweeping over me. Every year there was more traffic, more people, more houses. Where fields and woods had once been, homes had sprung up. I could see their lights across the highway.
    Suddenly, Georgie was beside me. "You said you'd come right back!"
    I turned to him. "Don't you wonder where all those people are going? Look at them, just driving and driving."
    "I wish we were in one of those cars, going far, far away," Georgie said. "To California, maybe. Wouldn't you love to see the Pacific Ocean?"
    I patted his shoulder. "Yes, but—"
    Georgie's smile faded and he leaned against the fence, watching the headlights go by. "Don't say it," he said sadly. "I know, I know."
    "Hey," I said, "it's your turn to ride the bike."
    Turning my back to the road and the cars, I picked up the bike and held it steady for Georgie. His legs weren't quite long enough, so he had to stand up to pedal.
    "Don't shift the gears," I told him. "They work fine just the way they are. If you need the brakes, squeeze these." I put his hands on the levers. "But don't squeeze hard. If you stop too fast, you'll go right over the handlebars."
    As he started to pedal back toward the house, I called after him, "Go slow at first. Get used to the feel of it. Your Schwinn was much heavier."
    "Don't boss me," Georgie said. "I know how to ride a bike."
    "And watch out for deer," I added. "I almost hit one."
    This time he ignored me. Wobbling from side to side, he pedaled into the dark tunnel of trees. I ran after him, but he was soon out of sight. A few seconds later, I heard the bike's bell, followed by a loud crash and my brother's cry.
    By the time I found Georgie, he'd righted the bicycle. "There was a fox in the drive," he said tearfully. "I missed him, but I smashed into that tree."
    Georgie hadn't hurt himself, but the bike's front wheel was twisted and the tire was flat. "Nobody can ride it now." He gave the bike a kick. "Flimsy old thing."
    If he hadn't looked so upset, I would have pinched him for ruining our moonlight bike rides when they'd barely begun. "Why couldn't you have been more careful?"
    "I'm sorry,"he mumbled.
    I yanked the bike away from him. "Now what do we do?"
    "Put it back where it was," he suggested. "Maybe they won't notice right away."
    I shook my head. "We'll hide it. They'll think someone stole it."
    Georgie brightened. "Maybe Lissa's dad will buy her a new one."
    "Maybe." Pushing the bike