Page 2 of Love me, Maddie Mendoza

“Ok.” I agreed.

For a second, we both looked away, thinking of all the amazing games we were going to sneak into Mrs. Monroe’s fortress of boredom. My mind raced with possibilities. The excitement of hiding them under my clothes was suddenly the best part. But soon the reality came crashing down.

Next time.Today, it was only seven o’clock, and we were already bored to tears.

“You go to the bathroom. I’ll tell her you have a bellyache.” With a little determinate nod, Maddie decided.

She was already standing up when I understood what was about to happen. I tugged her hand down. “What? No! You stay and I watch the shows.”

Maddie shook her head. “I don’t hate it as much as you do.”

She wasn’t wrong. I hated the shows. I huffed, annoyed with the situation. When we were together our parents brought us to parks, kid’s parties, or to the movies. We were never left to our own devices to decide what we wanted to play next. It was all arranged playdates and controlled entertainment for us. But soon it was going to change.I just knew it.

“Remember what you said about the orange trees?” I asked about the trees growing beside our windows back home.

“Yes.”

“Well, one day they will be big enough for me to jump to your room and we will play games whenever we want.” I promised her.

Maddie beamed at me. “I know,” she said in that light voice of hers that made of all her words vows. She shot me a last smile over her shoulder and skipped away from the pantry, leaving me alone in the dark. I held my breath when I heard her calling Mrs. Monroe.

“Zeek has a little of a bellyache.”

“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Monroe fretted, making me feel guilty. “Shall we call Xiomara?”

“No. Just give him a little time. Do you want to play with me?”

It was brave for Maddie to ask. We never bothered to involve Mrs. Monroe. It didn’t seem like she was interested in playing with us.

“How about I teach you how to crochet?”

“Cool.” Maddie agreed, and I heard them leaving the room together.

“BE CAREFUL!” She hollered.

My step faltered, and I missed a branch with the power of her shriek.

“Shush, Maddie!” I said, looking from right to left.

Our houses were exactly the same and the opposite. The branches of the two orange trees in the backyard tangled into each other right in front of the windows our bedrooms.

A long time ago, Maddie said the trees were going to grow and reach our windows. I didn’t believe her, but the day was finally here.

One night, the branches scratched my bedroom window, making a dreadful noise. At first I was scared, thinking it might be someone’s nails on the glass or something equally terrifying. The next morning, Maddie was excited and told me the same happened to her window. It wasn’t a monster, after all. It was just a sign the trees were tall enough to climb.

Maddie’s plan was simple: sneak out of the window, step to one tree, jump to the other, and then reach the other window. Finally, we could go from one room to the other without our parents knowing.

We waited five years for this moment. I thought she was going to be excited about our first trial, but Maddie was looking scared, biting her lip and shouting when she was supposed to be quiet.

“Did you just fall?” she asked, at least her voice a little lower than before.

“If I fell, I’d be on the ground! Shush and keep guard!”

I glanced down to see the top of her head. As a guard dog, Maddie was a little happy puppy. Still, I caught her looking between our houses.

“It’s ok,” she whispered. “Keep going.”

I braced myself and went ahead, testing the weight of the branches before stepping completely onto them.

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