By Heather Klassen © 2008

Illustration by Leanne Franson © 2008

“Hey, put him back in the cage, Jake,” I said as I entered the bedroom. “I told you I don’t think Skitter’s feeling well.” Crossing the room, I scowled at my younger brother.

“Sorry,” Jake replied, lifting the cage lid.

“Here,” I said, reaching toward Jake. “Give him to me.” I took my hamster from my brother. “And stay out of my stuff.”

Glancing at Jake’s bed, I noticed something else. Something familiar scattered across Jake’s comforter.

“Aren’t those my new magazines?” I asked. “The ones I haven’t even had a chance to read?”

Jake nodded as he scooted onto his bed.

I lifted Skitter to eye level and gazed at his little round eyes and twitching whiskers.

“You’re lucky you don’t have to share your cage with your little brother,” I whispered.

As I stroked Skitter’s soft fur, Kate appeared in the doorway. “Ryan, Mom said not to forget to finish your chores,” she said.

“I don’t need you to remind me,” I replied.

“I’m just trying to help,” Kate said.

“I don’t need your help,” I retorted.

Kate shrugged and left.

My sister and brother are such a pain in the neck today, I thought. Of course, they bother me just about every day. They’re always there, telling me something, or wanting something, or just plain bugging me. Kate’s a year and a half older than I am, and Jake’s a year and a half younger, and the way our birthdays fall, we’re only a year apart in school. So my siblings are there too—at recess, in the cafeteria, at assemblies. I’m stuck in the middle and can never get away from them.

Sighing, I slipped Skitter back into his cage and headed for the door.

“Where are you going, Ryan?” Jake asked.

“Nowhere. None of your business,” I said.

I stomped down the hall and into the kitchen.

Mom looked up from the computer. “Ryan, what’s …” she started to say.

But I interrupted. “I feel like a sandwich, Mom! A squished up, squashed up, middle part of a sandwich with Kate and Jake squeezing me on both sides! I wish I were an only child!”

Not waiting for her to answer, I stomped across the kitchen and threw open the back door.

And then I ran as fast as I could across the backyard, all the way to the tree house. My tree house. The one I built, the one no one is allowed to enter without my permission. The only place I can go to be by myself.

I reached up and grabbed the ladder rungs with both hands and started to climb. I climbed up and up, jamming my feet onto the rungs below. Finally, I reached for the tree house floor, but my hands missed, and my feet seemed to be hanging in midair, and then suddenly the entire world went black.

I opened my eyes in a white room. I saw white walls and white curtains, and then I saw Mama rising from a chair in the corner.

“Ryan,” she said, hurrying over. “You’ve been out for a long time. How do you feel?”

“Where am I?” I asked.

“In the hospital,” Mama explained. “You fell out of the tree house. You broke your arm and your leg, and hurt your back. And you hit your head hard enough to be out since yesterday. We’ve been so worried.”

“I think I’m okay,” I said. “But I ache.”

“That’s to be expected,” Mama replied, touching my arm.

Noise at the door made me look over. Mom, Kate, and Jake were talking as they walked in.

“He’s awake!” Mama called.

The rest of my family rushed over, all talking at once so I couldn’t tell what they were saying. Except for catching phrases like “so worried” and “so relieved.” Finally, they all simmered down.

“You’ll have to stay here a few more days,” Mom told me.

“Oh no,” I groaned. “It’ll be so boring with nothing to do.” And then I thought of something. Several things, actually. “And who’s going to take care of Skitter? And my paper route? And I’m going to fall totally behind in school.”

“It won’t be boring all the time, Ryan,” Jake said. “Because either Kate or I will be here every minute that we can. Mom and Mama said we could. We’ll bring games and stuff. And don’t worry about Skitter. I learned how to take care of him by watching you. So I’ll do it.”

“Thanks, Jake,” I told my brother.

“And I’ll do your paper route,” Kate informed me. “Until you can do it again. Even the collecting. And I already talked to your teacher. He’ll give me your work to bring here.”

“Wow, thanks.” I  was kind of surprised that my sister would help me that much.

“Kate and Jake have already worked out a schedule,” Mom said. “So you’ll always have company here, even when Mama and I have to be doing other things at work and home.” Mom smiled at me. “Oh, and they’ve both volunteered to cover your chores for as long as you’re laid up,” she added.

“Wow,” I repeated, but more softly this time. I suddenly felt very tired. I closed my eyes.

When I woke up, one glance at the window told me evening had arrived. I quickly looked around. I didn’t need to look far. Kate and Jake sat right next to the bed.

“Hey, Ryan,” Jake said. “We went home, and I brought back your whole stack of magazines.”

“And I brought Sorry!” Kate held up the box to show me. “Maybe we could play that afterwards.”

“Thanks, guys,” I replied. “You two are being really nice to me, but I don’t think I’m always that nice to you.”

Kate shrugged. “That’s okay, Ryan,” she said. “We’re family. That’s just the way it goes sometimes.”

As I looked from my sister to my brother, at those faces that are as familiar to me as my own, maybe even more familiar, I knew that Kate was right. I would do the same for them. Maybe it took a bump on the head for me to get it, I thought, but now I do. Because now I know that although the worst thing about siblings is that they’re always there, in your way, maybe in your face, the best thing about siblings is that they’re always there for you when you really need them.