CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Nancy Funnel stood waiting for us by the admissions building. She gave a big wave as we approached, making sure we saw her.
I figured we must look completely out of place, like a family on vacation somewhere new for the first time. Dad carried a suitcase, Mom held bags from the grocery store, Brenda had my pillow slung over her shoulder the way Santa Clause carried a bag of toys, and I walked a few steps behind, wearing my backpack.
Good morning, Ms. Funnel signed and wasted no time as she led us past the admissions building to Willis Hall. This is the boys’ dorm room. Younger kids on the first level, older kids upstairs, she continued, as she led us up a staircase.
An easel holding a chalkboard displayed a list of chores telling who was responsible for what. Someone
