My house stood silently peeking back at me through the trees, a square box painted dark green. . . . It was the only home I'd ever known, and I loved it. I loved its silver-painted corrugated iron roof, which slanted down into gutters that flowed into the round water tank in the back. It made nice sounds in the rain. The only water we had was what we caught off the roof. Not like Billy's house, where they had water pipes from the street, and a bathroom inside the house.

"Hey," Billy whispered, quickly moving off the trail into the trees. His blond hair glowed where the sun hit it, but mostly he was in the shade.