 
# PREMONITIONS

DANIEL ORMONT

(Premonitions: Volume One in _The Boy From Tomorrow_ series)

Copyright 2016 by Daniel Ormont

Cover Design and Artwork Copyright 2016 by Megan Torello

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

Thanks to Mark Coker providing eBook Development Instruction, and

Smashwords Staff providing eBook Technical Support

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are all fictitious and/or used in a fictitious capacity. Any similarities to persons, living or deceased, is strictly coincidental with one caveat. The story is premised upon a thread of truth: my personal run-ins with psychic phenomena. Albeit a compressed timeline, the exaggerated story illustrates how my psychic experiences, in whole or in part, have manifested in various forms since toddlerhood.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author, except for distribution by Smashwords-authorized eBook retailers. A reviewer may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine, journal, and/or

the electronic equivalent thereof.

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This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook remains the property of the author, and it may not be distributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this eBook, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite eBook retailer. By respecting the hard work of this author, you help to keep prices low. Thank you for your support.

Visit my website at: www.danielormont.com

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# DEDICATION

This story is dedicated to the following individuals

without whom this novel would not be possible:

To those on the Ormont Tree:

My parents and my three sisters – for their love, support, and tolerance

...although unaware of the struggles consuming me, especially the teen years.

To those Next-Gen Ormonts:

My wife and my children – for their love, support, and patience

...not fully comprehending the struggles in the aftermath consuming me.

To genuine people like the Strongs and Devonshires:

To second families – for their love, devotion, and kindness above and beyond the call of duty;

For hearts burning with compassion, fighting the good fight to improve the human condition,

...and for the encouragement and unrelenting persuasion to keep me writing.

To my Cast of Characters:

All my friends I made along the way – accepting me as-is: foibles, blemishes, and all;

For tolerating tons of puns (psst, they still do),

...and, forthwith royally deservant of the lion's share.

Oh, and Taffy, of course:

...One crazy canine!

# CONTENTS

Introduction

PHASE ONE – INNOCENCE

Chapter I: Sweet Dreams

Chapter II: Sugary Spice

Chapter III: Show and Tell

Chapter IV: Patti-Cakes

Chapter V: Around the Rosies

Chapter VI: Peekaboo, I've Seen You!

Chapter VII: Sisterhood

Chapter VIII: First Comes Love

Chapter IX: The Queens of Hearts

Chapter X: Firin' Ice

PHASE TWO – APPERCEPTION

Chapter XI: Boy Blues

Chapter XII: School Daze

Chapter XIII: The Girl With the Curl

Chapter XIV: Play Ball!

Chapter XV: Cat's Cradle

Chapter XVI: Mouse Jumps Over the Moon

Chapter XVII: Gone to the Dogs

Chapter XVIII: Cat and Mouse

Chapter XIX: Tag, You're It!

Chapter XX: Hot Times

Chapter XXI: Your Sunday Best

Chapter XXII: The Gemini Promise

PHASE THREE – HAPPENSTANCE

Sneak Peek! Chapter XXIII: Mirror, Mirror

About Daniel Ormont

Connect with Daniel Ormont

Other Books by Daniel Ormont

# INTRODUCTION

In _The Boy From Tomorrow_ series, a unique story develops over time. Since the storyline is heavily time-dependent, the plot can only be told in the sequence presented here. Therefore, it is highly suggested that one read _The Boy From Tomorrow_ novels in sequential order. Following the plot in this prescribed way, the story unfolds in its natural glory unhindered by any attempt to force each volume to read independently from the next. Therefore, each subsequent novel plays a unique and integral role providing seemingly random hints that, together, forge a synergy across time. In short, the story grows to become an entity greater than the sum of its individual scenes.

I believe the reader will find this a quick read. Knowing your time is precious, it is my philosophy that reading should be a pleasure – not a burden. With narration held to a minimum, I let the characters speak for themselves. Similarly, description is provided only when essential to the story. My style permits the reader the freedom to picture events staged in one's own imagination...unbiased by mine.

* * *

I trust the reader will enjoy this epic adventure that questions the illusion defining the terrarium in which we live. I hope the story will inspire many to think outside the asphyxiating box of conventional wisdom. If we are afraid to challenge the norms and dare not ask "what if...", then we are doomed to anesthetize ourselves into stagnation and complacency. A mind should wander free to dream without fear of ridicule or repercussion. Those who dreamed to fly and dared to try, bought their tickets to the sky with blood, sweat, and tears. And, those who tried to keep them down were left behind, stranded on the ground.

I believe we all possess the potential to experience psychic episodes, to various degrees. A brush with what lies beyond (whether interacting with past apparitions or future aberrations) is often subtle and quickly dismissed, if noticed at all. The majority will remain true to their convictions, decidedly incredulous to the evidence I present to a jury of my peers. However, I am confident teenagers, especially middle schoolers, are at the optimum age to be most receptive to such nuances. Adolescence is the age of exploration. Their budding minds are opening to new and abstract concepts beyond the constraints of the concrete, physical world. Their mental faculties acute; their uncanny memories astute – often fortified with picture-perfect instant recall, to boot. And, when freed from distraction, the youthful dreamer is poised to catch sight of the ever-elusive window to future glimpse.

# PHASE ONE — INNOCENCE

Foresight is not endowed to the elite.

It is bestowed upon the masses and deciphered by the innocent.

CHAPTER I

Sweet Dreams

Greater Boston, Early 1970s:

"Patti? _...Patti?...Patti?_ " Danny's words danced along cavern walls. "Patti, are ya there? _...there?_ " Swamp gas bathed the young man in its ghostly glow; the stench of rotting fish choked his lungs.

"Danny? _...Danny?_ " The girl glimpsed his silhouette. "Oh, I'm so glad it's you!... _you!_ "

"Patti-c-c-cakes, where are you? I don't see you! _...you!_ "

"Down here, in the water. Musta slipped..." A menacing rumble roiled her nerves. "Help me, Danny, help me!"

"Where are you?"

"Help me!"

"I'll never find you!" Danny paced the shore in vain. "I don't... I can't...answer me!" "I'm here! _...here!_ _...here!_ " Echoes teased his ears. "Here! _...here!_ _...here!_ "

"Swim, swim to shore!"

"I-I-I'll never make it!"

"Follow my voice!"

"Help me!"

"Try! For heaven sake try!

The panicked girl was silenced by the crash of a bone-chilling wave. Battered about at the mercy of the waves, she floundered in the rapids. Patti struggled to keep her head above water. Her spindly limbs flailed to the point of exhaustion when the fickle currents thrust her into the shallows.

"C'mon, Patti-cakes, you can do this," Danny stretched flat out upon the riverbank. "Grab my hand!" Bedraggled, she mustered the strength to reach for him. "Gotcha!" But, her soaked skin slipped through his grasp; the raging swells stole Patti for itself.

"Danny, save _meeeeeeeeeeee!_ "

"Patti? The thundering roar of a voracious waterfall was the only response. " _Pattiiiii!_ "

" _AAH!_ " Little Danny rocketed from bed, fiery-eyed. " _AAAAAAAAH!!!_ "

"Not again..." Mr. Ormont burrowed deep beneath the blankets.

"I'm a-comin', Denny, love..."

"Will we ever catch some sleep around here?"

"'Tis the night terrors come agin."

"We're cursed, I tell you. Plagued, hexed, jinxed..."

His wife leapt from bed. "What blarney!"

"Just because you were raised by leprechauns back on the Emerald Isle..."

"P'shah! Yer squakin' be worse than a screamin' banshee."

"It's not natural, Aggie."

"Doc claims it'll pass." Mrs. Ormont wriggled into her housecoat and rushed to her son.

"Easy for him to say," Mr. Ormont shouted after her. "The doctor doesn't live here!"

"What ails yea, wee one?"

"We must find her..." The child stared through the woman. "Help me find her!"

"Find who, Denny? Who she be?"

"Patti, of course. The red-head girl."

"Sh, go back to sleep."

"She needs me, Mum. We must find her!"

"Yer dreamin', lad..."

"Patti...I couldn't save her." Tears doused his cheeks.

"Lie down, Denny." Her calloused hands adjusted the covers. "Rest now, lad.

"I tried, Mum, honest! She just...vanished!"

"Yea did yer best." Mrs. Ormont hugged her son, stroking his curls. "No doubt."

"You saw her this time, right Mum? Tell me you saw her!"

"Sh! Yea need to rest."

"I must find her! I promised to..."

"Come first light, love."

"Fetch provisions for tomorrow's cave expedition."

"Sakes, me tyke's enraged—"

"I'm twenty-one, Mum!" Danny broke from her embrace. "I'm not a child!"

"I say..." _Doc said it best to play along._ "My, how yea aged."

"Gather plenty of ropes and lanterns. "I swear, if anything happens to that girl, I'll..."

"Peace, child." Mum kissed his forehead and helped her son to bed. "Find her yea will."

"I'll go mad!" The boy snuggled under the covers. "...Mum?"

"Yes, love?"

"What if I can't find my bride?"

"Fear not, wee one...that is, no worries."

"Night, Mum..."

"Sweet dreams, me mystical child," his mother whispered. "Godspeed." She closed the door and stole down the hall.

"Did he see his mystery girl again?"

Mrs. Ormont closed the bedroom door and wept.

"Well? Answer me, woman! Did he?"

"Aye..." Mrs. Ormont swallowed her tears.

"Honestly! The same dream, night after night after night...for two weeks now!"

"He be worse, Al. The dream, 'tis progressin'."

Mr. Ormont flicked on the nightstand lamp. He glimpsed his shaken wife shrink into the shadows.

"Why, Agatha! Have you seen a ghost?"

"'Tis the future I be a-seein'. Our tyke – all grown up!"

"What are you saying?"

"The lass is named now, indeed she is." Under the bed covers, she rolled into her husband's arms. "Patti be the one."

"Won't this keep 'til morning?"

"I vowed we'd find her. We must start a-gatherin' provisions..."

"Are we going somewhere?"

"Aye, an expedition. Best rest up."

"Why?"

"We be a-leavin' at dawn."

"Someone's cuckoo here, and I fear it's me!"

"Alfie, hear me out!" Mrs. Ormont pulled back from her husband's embrace. "Denny's twenty-one, and Patti be his betrothed!"

"Fine, fine..." Mr. Ormont yawned, turning off the light. "Just invite me to the wedding."

* * *

At breakfast, the Ormonts gathered without a word of last night's affairs.

"Surprise, Aggie!" Mr. Ormont laid a bulky package at her place. "I guarantee, you'll want to see these puppies."

"What is it, dear?" She served the family bangers and poured herself coffee.

"I stopped by the drug store last night and picked up a few things..."

"Could it be? Our holiday photos?...From Argent Point?"

"No need to wait." Her husband grinned in anticipation. "Open 'em!"

"Saints be praised! Isn't Denny cute as the dickens donnin' his...buggers!"

"What's wrong?"

"Gracious, these be not our snapshots!"

"Aw, H-E-double hockey sticks!" Mr. Ormont leafed through the pile. "If they lost our...why, sure they are, honey, see? There's Danny building a sand cas—"

"Glory be! The lad took a mate, Al, look!" His wife revealed a picture of Danny and his mystery girl gainfully employed in sand castle construction.

"That's so cute. Say, who's the girl?"

"Surely, the one he been a-jabberin' about. The little Argent girl, no doubt."

"Impossible! The Argents had no children, remember?"

"Bless her soul!" Mrs. Ormont spilled her coffee and dabbed at the puddle. "Expectin' her first, and prayin' fir a girl, I rightly recall...perhaps, some other lass, then?"

"But, Aggie..." Her husband dropped his fork. "We had the place to ourselves!"

Danny chewed in silence entertained by the discussion.

"Simple. Yea forgot. Aye, that yea do, dear..."

"But, I took those pictures myself! Every lighthouse in Maine, Danny's shenanigans on the beach, lobster traps by the score...there simply was no girl!"

The family feasted in silence, serenaded by clinking silverware.

"Alfie, how long past be our trip now?"

"Oh...about two weeks ago."

"And, Denny's be a-dreamin' since...?"

"Maybe the same...why?"

"You don't suppose..." Mr. and Mrs. Ormont stared at each other in disbelief.

"Strictly coincidental," Mr. Ormont sliced his bangers into wedges, stabbed a forkful, and popped the morsel in his mouth. "It doesn't mean a thing."

"Aye. But, what of his malarkey?...Rightly been before?...Hopin' she'll be a-showin' agin?"

"Now, does that make any sense to you?"

"Don't ask me, dear. Ask Denny."

"Well... _Daniel?_ "

The unsuspecting boy played with his breakfast. "Al, yea'll frighten the lad..." Mrs. Ormont hugged her son. "He be only two."

"Ok, Mother Superior," Mr. Ormont slapped the table. "You talk to him!"

"Denny, love..."

"Ut-ohs, pistachios!" he said, gazing into his parents eyes. "What'd I do now?"

# CHAPTER II

Sugary Spice

Unlike most little boys, Danny never hated girls. At the rambunctious age of five, Danny Ormont liked Debbie Strong. Fortunately for him, Debbie liked Danny, too. But, the same could not be said about Debbie's older brother, Mitchell. Now, it was never determined how Misty, the Strong's German Sheppard, managed to break loose. It seemed to happen every time Danny was headed up Debbie's walk. Misty was a gentle giant whose size was more intimidating than her bark; nonetheless, Danny feared the beast. Whenever Misty was coming, Danny would run the other way.

And, there have been other unexplained events, like the bucket incident. It was supposedly an accident. One thing is for certain, Danny will never forget

"Hello?" the boy called, peering through the screen door.

"C'mon on in! Debbie, guess who's here?"

Danny pushed the door wide open. _Splash!_ A bucket belched its icy contents upon him. This string of events seemed too numerous to be coincidental. Although Mitchell denied concocting such dastardly deeds, Danny remained suspicious. Still, nothing would discourage him from seeing Debbie.

"Just once, I'd like to catch Mitchell in the act."

"He means no harm."

"Wanna play on the swings?"

"Sure!"

In the early 1970s, the age of innocence was golden delicious for a Bean Town boy and his gal. The warm spring day beckoned, and with Debbie by his side, the swings could take them anywhere. A few swift pumps of the legs brought them soaring over the rooftops and into the clouds. Danny pretended he was flying, and Debbie followed his lead – pigtails fluttering.

"Darn..." the girl frowned. "It happens every time I swing."

"What's wrong?"

"I can't wiggle my tooth."

"Huh?"

"When I swing? I can't wiggle my tooth 'cause I'm holding on real tight. And, when I wiggle my tooth? I can't hold on real tight, so I can't swing...see?"

"Just swing, will ya?"

"But, I like wiggling my tooth!"

The carefree couple reached cruising altitude, and Debbie began to sing. Naturally, Danny would sing along. The duet drowned out the squeaky protests from the rusty swings. Chirping away, they climbed to new heights far beyond the limits of those two tethered seats.

"Hey, Danny! Wanna shoot some hoops?" Danny and Debbie's high-flying adventure was abruptly interrupted by Charlie, a lanky boy about their age with wavy, brown hair. Born with basketball in hand, Charlie could not see why Danny wasted his time with girls. And, Danny could not see why Charlie wasted his time with basketball. Their guest awaited a reply. He dribbled his pint-sized ball – starting left handed, crossing to his right, then left again.

"Neah...I'm busy."

"Promise I'll let you win this time."

"Go ahead, Danny," Debbie said. "I don't mind."

"I'd rather play with you," Danny said. "Besides, Mum told me not to wander off."

"Suit yourself." Charlie and his pile-driving basketball pounded down the street.

Debbie and Danny had always been lifelong companions. There was no accounting for how they met. She was the veritable girl next door, and the best Danny could figure, they had been together. Debbie claimed the two were inseparable since the hospital nursery, and Danny never questioned her words. The legend bolstered their euphoric relationship.

The duo delighted in love's ambrosia, a lighthearted and giddy dessert. Danny cherished every precious moment with his girl. And, Debbie's unwavering devotion to her guy burst through her radiant smile. There was no denying that they would forever be united.

"Danny, don't you want play with Charlie?"

"I like swinging with you."

"Well, I could always watch."

"You know I can't really shoot the ball, remember?...My left arm?"

"Oh, yeah... It doesn't look broke."

"It's not broken, it's just...bad, that's all."

"Sometimes I forget. Sorry."

"That's ok, Debbie. It's really hard to notice."

Two weeks before Baby Boy Ormont was born, Mrs. Ormont had a dream. A baby bird landed on her porch with a broken left wing. She did not give it a second thought. One week before Baby Boy Ormont's arrival, Mrs. Ormont discovered a baby bird with a broken left wing struggling to fly off her stoop. Curiously, Baby Boy Ormont was brought to his mother with his left arm in a sling.

"What be wrong wit the lad's arm?" Mrs. Ormont cornered the doctor.

"Superficial brachial damage." The attending physician consulted his chart, never making eye contact.

"In plain English, yea goofed."

"It is only superficial."

"Meaning?"

"The subject, an infant – male, will never have use of that arm."

"The _subject_ be me son....And, yea call that superficial?"

"By the textbook definition, yes."

"Aye, yer textbook be a-causin' this mess!"

The doctor glanced at the floor and rubbed his neck.

"Prognosis?" Mum asked, breaking the uneasy silence.

"Amputation would be best."

"None of that talk now. Surely, there be other ways."

The doctor scratched his chin. "What would you suggest?"

"Sakes! Be it rehabilitation or physical therapy..."

"Convention dictates his arm will only atrophy."

"We'll be a-seein' about that," she said. "I don't subscribe to yer conventions."

"He'll have a long, tough fight ahead..."

"Fine! Daniel shall be the lad's name, and he'll be a-facin' many a-lion's den, he will!"

Bored with the swings, the two marched back to Debbie's house. "You really don't mind playing dolls with me?" The pair raced to her room.

"No," Danny said. "After all, you don't mind playing airplane."

"Then, give Dottie her bottle."

Danny tucked Dottie under his arm like a football, collapsed into a beanbag chair, and popped a bottle in the doll's mouth. Debbie laughed at the struggling father's expense.

"What's so funny?"

"She'll never take her bottle like that, silly. Here, let me show you." Debbie coddled Dottie in her arms and cooed. Pretending to test the milk on her wrist, the loving little mother fed her baby from the bottle. "Now, burp her!"

" _Burp her???_ "

"Put this cloth over your shoulder and rest her head, like this." While Debbie cared for the child, Danny surprised her with a peck on the cheek. The girl's heart swelled with delight. Unabashed, she closed her eyes and kissed him right back.

"I love you, Debbie," Danny blushed.

"I love you, too," Debbie confessed. "I honestly do." The doll slipped out of her hands. She hugged Danny, and they tumbled onto the carpet. The two cuddled with an ear pressed against the other's chest. Hand in hand, they rubbed thumbs entranced by the harmony of their heartbeats.

Plush friends showered the couple, freed from the overhead pet net. "Mitchell!" The boy shouted, righting himself. But, Debbie did not mind. She simply pulled Danny closer and planted another kiss on his cheek.

# CHAPTER III

Show and Tell

Debbie's parents treated Danny like one of the family, and Danny's family reciprocated. The couple went everywhere together. If Debbie's Mom had to run to the grocery store, Danny was invited to tag along. And, if Danny's playing was interrupted by lunch, Debbie was most certainly welcomed to join him. One day, Mum beckoned the two pups playing in the backyard.

"Denny, time fir lunch!"

"Coming!"

"And, bring Debbie, too."

"Okay, Mum."

"Last one to the house is a toadstool!" The children abandoned the swings and raced across the yard. Greeted by the sweet fragrance of lilac, they rounded the flowerbed where Danny tore past his friend. But, Debbie snagged the boy's shirt tails and stole the lead.

"Hey, pokey," Debbie teased her competition at the back door. "Danny's a toadstool! Danny's a toadstool!"

"I am not!"

"Are, too!"

"AM NOT!"

"ARE, TOO!"

"Danny's a toadstool! Danny's a toadstool!" chanted the girl.

Danny held open the back door and allowed Debbie to enter first.

"Wipe yer feet now, loves," Mum called from the kitchen.

"Mrs. Ormont? Danny's a dumb old toadstool!"

"I am not!"

"Now, Denny, she be only funnin'," Mum said. "Git washed up."

Danny took Debbie by the hand and guided her to the powder room. "I love the smell of that soap. What's it called?"

"Mountain Mystery, I think. It's kinda minty." Danny took a drink from a paper cup with jokes printed all over it. "Hey, Debbie...where do school buses go at night?"

"I don't know. Where?"

"Night school! Get it?"

"Yeah, that's a good one."

"Lunch is ready!" The two raced to the kitchen table where cool drinks greeted the overheated couple. "Whoa, slow down!" Mum said. "Where be the fire?"

"What's for lunch?"

"Sakes, Denny, what a sight! Been pig wrestling, have yea?'

"What?" Danny examined his shirt and brushed off the dust. "I don't look so bad."

"Why, yea be filthy, and what's that yer a-wearin'?" Mum said. "A ratty old tee?"

"But, Mum..."

"Not another word. Git changed! But first, wash up."

"I just did!"

"Aye, only this time, touch the soap!" Mum gave the child a rap on the behind as he ran upstairs.

His companion took a seat at the table. The eat-in kitchen was a cozy nook affording just enough space for a family to gather. A worn, L-shaped bench with vinyl seats encircled half the table with two country kitchen chairs completing the ensemble. A modest, black and white television set rested on the counter opposite the table with rabbit ear antennas adorned in aluminum foil to improve reception.

"Debbie, that shirt be darlin'," Mum said. "It escaped me mind."

"You mean...you knew I had this?"

"Aye, now I remember! We'd gone shoppin' – yer Mum and me – pickin' somethin' fir the wee ones to share, that we did. Sakes, where's me mind?" Mum said, setting a plate before her young guest.

"Ooh, peanut butter and honey. My favorite!"

"Enjoy, lass!"

Danny returned to the kitchen. The pair sat on the bench holding hands under the table; their swinging legs never touched the floor.

"Yeah, Danny's got me liking it."

"Seems yea and Denny be doing lots together."

"Mum, please..."

His mate sampled her sandwich. "It's great!" Debbie said.

"Heavens, would yea look at that?" Mum smiled. "Birds of a feather flock together."

"What's that supposed to mean?

"Matchin' bird t-shirts."

"Huh?" Danny glanced down in surprised at the shirt he threw on and blushed. "Gee, it was an accident," the boy insisted. "That's the first shirt I pulled from the drawer."

"...Besides, that what yer t-shirts say," Mum continued. "I guess it's really true. Yea two truly be birds of a feather!"

"Oh, how cute!" Debbie squealed. "Danny, I didn't know you had the same shirt. My mom never told me."

"Look sharp now and wear 'em to kindergarten this afternoon."

"We'll be twins!"

"Quite a sight, I'd say, quite."

* * *

"Duck, duck, duck..." Debbie chanted, circling the ring of classmates. "Goose!" She tapped Danny on the head and scooted past.

The hunt was on! Danny chased Debbie hoping to tag her before she could steal his spot in the circle. Debbie was swift, but Danny had her outpaced. Soon, Debbie felt a tap on her shoulder only a step away from claiming victory.

Kindergarten was a nurturing place where young imaginations were free to roam. Today you were a fireman, tomorrow an astronaut. Children explored their world while building friendships. But, all the children understood how Debbie and Danny shared much more. In their own little way, Debbie and Danny were becoming an item at an early age. They would always pair-up while playing games like "Duck, Duck, Goose." Or, if Danny were the "Farmer in the Dell," he would always pick Debbie to be his wife. Still, it was quite a shock when they came to school wearing matching bird shirts.

"Take your seats on the mat, everyone," the teacher said, "crisscross applesauce!"

"Is it story time already, Mrs. Hopewell?"

"No, Tommy," the teacher said. "Not quite."

"C'mon Danny!" Debbie pulled the unsuspecting boy to his feet and dragged him across the room. The pair took seats in the back row.

"Today, we have a special _Show 'n' Tell_ about friendship," the teacher began. The children gasped with excitement.

"Debbie and Danny, please tell the class...where did you ever find those matching birdie t-shirts?" Mrs. Hopewell insisted. "Aren't they precious? Just darling!"

"Ha-ha, look at the lovebirds!" a boy teased.

A wave of giggles rippled across the room when the pair came forward. Debbie twirled her pigtails while her partner stood there squirming.

"Children, please!" the teacher insisted. "Danny, tell the class...I simply must know!"

"Well, you see, Debbie and I like to play airplanes, and—"

"And, Danny likes to play with my dolls!" Debbie interjected.

The class erupted into hysterics over such an absurd statement. Danny's jaw struck the floor in astonishment while the class howled.

"That was supposed to be our little secret!" Danny hid his face in shame.

"Now, children, there's nothing wrong with that."

"That's what Danny says, too," Debbie added. But, her words merely rekindled the dying embers of laughter.

"This is the worstest day in my whole entire life." Danny wept into his sleeve.

Debbie led Danny by the hand to the back corner of the room. "It's okay, Danny. Let them laugh," the girl assured, kissing his cheek. Lost in chaos, the children failed to notice her act of affection.

"Really?" the boy sniffled.

"Danny, are you okay?" Mrs. Hopewell asked, approaching the distraught child.

"I'm fine...thanks to Debbie," he smiled, drying his tears. "So what if they laugh?"

"That-a-boy," Mrs. Hopewell said. "You two share something very special. Are you ready to join the class?"

Gazing at his teacher with admiration, Danny nodded in approval.

"That's very brave of you," the teacher commended. Then, she called the class to order. "Gather around the crafts table, everyone!" The children circled their teacher, allowing her to continue. "It just so happens that I brought you each a toy bird, today," Mrs. Hopewell declared. "Can anyone tell us where birds like to rest?"

"A nest!" the class shouted in unison.

"Exactly. And, I thought we might all make nests for our birds."

"How can we do that?" blurted a little girl.

"Next time," Mrs. Hopewell scorned. "Please raise your hand, Susie."

"Here's the supplies you'll need..." The teacher distributed a plastic bag to each child containing one toy bird and a ball of clay. "Now, place the clay on the table, children. First, we have to pound it flat." Tiny fists hammered to their heart's content.

"Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake," Mrs. Hopewell chanted.

"Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake," echoed the children.

"Patti-cakes, Patti-cakes..." Danny muttered.

"First, we'll pat it..."

" _Patti-cakes? Patti-cakes?_ "

"Then, roll it..."

" _WAAAAIT!!!_ " Danny wailed a primordial yawp. "Where is _my_ Patti-cakes?"

The children froze, ogling Danny with bulging eyes; their mouths agape in horror.

# CHAPTER IV

Patti-Cakes

Little Patti Connor lay awake in her bed and stared at the ceiling. Yawning, she longed to escape into slumberland. But, like so many recent nights, dreams were shattered by the commotion in the next bedroom. She hugged her teddy bear and prayed for a miracle. Tears streamed down her face while her parents argued.

"Who was that on the phone, Miranda?"

Mother bit her lip. "Oh, no one..."

"It was _him_ again, wasn't it?"

"Lower your voice!"

"I'm not blind!"

"He's just a friend."

"Don't lie to me!"

"Sh! You'll wake my baby."

" _Our_ baby, Miranda! Our baby!"

"Lower your voice!"

"Damn it, woman, we've been through this before!"

Mother turned her back on him. "It's no big deal."

"I told you, I don't want him calling here."

"Actually...I called him."

"Don't give me your crap."

"Your attitude stinks. Go sleep on the couch!"

"You're goddamn right about that!"

Patti jumped at the slam of a door. She wondered if the fighting had stopped for the night. A spooky silence permeated her modest townhouse. Had she been forgotten? Teary-eyed, she caught the full moon peeping in her window; its frosty fingers iced the room in silver. Glistening in the moonlight stood a tiny ballerina atop an ornate jewelry box. How Patti treasured that trinket. It was the ideal birthday gift for a little princess. That, plus a four-foot cuddly, teddy bear affectionately named "Freddy" after her father.

She hopped to her dresser, opened the jewelry box, and gazed into its magic mirror. Or, so her father claimed. Pressed cheek to cheek, father and daughter would study its glass, watching magic transform a square into a diamond and back again. Entranced, she flashed a smile into the mirror. Far too soon, the illusion faded along with her hopes. More screaming in the next room, and the magic was gone. Once again, it became a plain, ordinary mirror.

Patti slammed the lid and commanded the ballerina to twirl; her wrist wrenched a brass knob. A tinny music box plinked to Patti's delight. The absent-minded girl traced a triple spiral scrawled upon its face and reminisced of happier days. She nestled into the comfort of her father's arms. Standing atop her father's shoes, together they swayed to the music entertained by the pirouetting ballerina in a pearl white tutu.

Then, Daddy's little girl pretended she was that pristine ballerina. She curtsied in her pink nightgown and flitted about the room to her father's amusement. And, when the ballerina unwound, Patti unwound with a yawn. She attempted to kiss her father goodnight only to watch his memory vanish with the patter of encroaching footsteps.

Patti dove under the covers, and her bedroom door swung wide. Mother followed the moonlight to where Patti lay still, pretending to sleep.

"Sorry, darling," Mother knelt beside her daughter's bedside. "Your father doesn't love us...tearing us apart...trust Mother...no one can take you away, my darling...be a good girl...be strong for me...whatever would I do without you."

Never stirring, Patti absorbed her mother's every word. Mother watched Patti sleep with loving eyes. The toddler's rhythmic breathing bobbed the blankets.

"Mother's baby." She stroked her daughter's auburn locks. "Mother's precious...you have to be strong for Mother, ya hear? You'll have to care for me now. It's my Patti-cakes I can depend upon...unlike that useless, good for noth– Say, where is your sister, anyway? Oh, no matter. You're the only one I trust. Promise you'll look after me? Promise me, now. Promise!"

From the bed, there came no reply.

"That's a good girl." She kissed her child's forehead and watched in silent admiration. "Pleasant dreams, my guardian angel. You were sent from heaven just for me."

The instant Mother exited Patti's bedroom, the window slid open. A figure wormed its way to the floor with a thud. An asphyxiating cloud of cheap perfume filled the room.

"She's lying, ya know..." said a raspy voice.

Patti's eyes popped open wide. A heaviness pressed against the child. The girl turned to face the wall, avoiding the suffocating stench of beer breath. Someone twisted the child's arm, forcing her to roll back. The frightened waif stared into the face of a stranger: a bloodied forehead and raccoon eyes encircled by purple bruises. Glossed by tears, the wounds shone in the moonlight.

"Boo-boo!" the toddler screamed. "BOO—"

Lynn clamped the little one's mouth shut. "Not a word about this to Mother, see snitch?" the impetuous tween whispered in her sister's ear. "Not one word, got it?"

Without a sound, the innocent one nodded in consent.

Satisfied, Lynn dropped her hand by her side. "Mother don't give a darn about you," her big sister continued. "Trust me, snitch. I'm her favorite. She tells me time and time again. So, don't go squealing to Mother. This ain't none of your bees wax. Things could get ugly for ya, snitch, know what I'm sayin'?"

Shaken, the wide-eyed girl nodded rapidly.

"Good, then we understand each other. Stick by me, pest. "I'm the only one you can trust. Wouldn't want any accidents to happen." The teen strutted across the room, knocking Patti's jewelry box to the floor. "Whoops! Aw, would ya look at that? Too bad it's broken. Remember, you promised – not a word to Mother, _comprendez_? Promise me, now. Promise!"

The bedroom latched shut behind her final visitor of the night. "If only Daddy weren't so mean to Mother..." Patti cried, tears staining her freckled cheeks. "You're my bestest friend, Freddie," she whispered, hugging her bear. "You're my _only_ friend. Never-ever-ever go away. Promise you'll never leave me? Promise me, now. Promise!"

# CHAPTER V

Around the Rosies

Danny lugged a small suitcase down the street to Debbie's house. Soon, his parents would fly off on business. Such trips came up on occasion, and Danny had always been fortunate to join them. This time, however, accommodations were made for him to spend the week at the Strong's residence. He lumbered to Debbie's with mixed emotions. His heart yearned to see his girl while his mind yearned to see California.

The boy skipped along the stone path to Debbie's door. Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. The front door was ajar, but Danny did not dare step inside. He retracted the screen door and pushed open the front door. He watched the door swing wide. There was no booby trap this time. Relieved, he invited himself into the house and closed the door.

"Hello?" Danny called. "Anybody home?"

"Woof! Woof, woof!" A nails-clicking, paws-slipping fur ball stormed across the polished floor. "Woof, woof!" She cornered the boy; his back pinned up against the exit.

"Misty, no!!!" Debbie dropped a tray of goodies and clapped hands to her cheeks. Splatters of red punch tie-dyed the carpet. "Bad girl!!!" But, even the loose treats could not defuse Misty.

Danny shut his eyes, exhaled a bone-chilling howl, and dropped on all fours. Debbie could not believe her eyes. Misty stopped charging and approached with caution. Danny pressed his chest to the ground and wagged his behind high in the air. Whining, the ragamuffin canine sniffed Danny's hair. The dog mirrored the boy's pose; her fluffy tail danced with delight.

"Aw, you just wanna play, don'tcha girl?"

Misty replied with three short yaps of approval, and Danny scratched behind her ears.

"You made friends with Misty?" Debbie was flabbergasted. "How'd you do that?"

"I...I don't know. It all happened so fast."

Mrs. Strong was speechless, an armchair witness to the fiasco. "Mitchell! I thought I told you to put the dog out!"

"I did!" a voice snickered from down the hall. "...Out in the living room!"

"Get out here and help Debbie clean this mess up."

"It's ok, Ma!" Debbie said. "Danny and I can do it."

_Never a dull moment_ , Ma sighed in disgust. "You're too little. Mitchell will do it."

The couple moved into the kitchen. The girl rewarded her hero with well-earned refreshments. "Danna, ya wa sa bwave..." Debbie said, mouth full of cookie.

"You won't believe me," he chattered, "but, I feel this happened before!"

"Oh, Danny, you say the silliest things!"

"No, really! I could swear..."

"Wait until Mitchell hears about Misty!"

"No, don't say a word. Maybe we can trick him!"

"Now, you're talkin'!" The girl nodded, flashing a devilish grin. "Danny, I've been thinking..." Debbie guzzled down the last of her punch. "Let's help that Weeping Warrior on TV."

"You mean the one that wants us to pick up trash?"

"Yeah. It's one thing we're not too little to do."

"If we help, I guess he won't have to cry anymore, huh?"

"I saw loads of trash stuck in Mr. Bryson's bushes."

"Hey, if we clean it out real good, he might even pay us!"

"Like, the time we sold rocks on the corner..."

"Ha! And, you said no one would buy any."

"What did I know?" Debbie shrugged. "We were just little kids back then..."

"But, we're bigger, so he's bound to pay us something."

"Ma, we're going outside now!" Anxious to get started, Debbie fetched two garbage bags, and handed one to her friend. "Here you go."

"Stay close to the house!" Mrs. Strong said.

"We will!" her daughter said, heading out the door.

Unwieldly roses thrived along the edge of the Strong's yard. The brambles grew, rough-and-tumble, except at the gate where an arched trellis maintained order. Debbie and Danny crouched beside the shrubbery and removed trash from the hedge. Skillfully, they unclenched newspapers, soda cans, snack bags, and cellophane wrappers from the thorns' grip. Then, there were the bees. Danny did not like bees and panicked at the slightest buzz.

"They won't hurt you," she giggled. "They only want to sniff the flowers."

Danny dodged a darting bumblebee. "They scare me!"

"What's going on over there?" Mr. Bryson peered through a break in the hedge. Not every kid lived near a celebrity, but Danny and Debbie did. Mr. Bryson was the local pharmacist known for his popular TV commercials. At Christmas, he would illuminate his yard with the most intricate lights and sounds of the season. People would come from miles around to enjoy his decorative display.

"We're picking up trash," Danny said.

"The Warrior sent us," Debbie added.

"A warrior?" Mr. Bryson looked puzzled. "...Told you to pick up trash?"

"Yeah, you know, on TV," Debbie continued. "He's sad no one cleans up."

"Well, I'm glad to see you care," Mr. Bryson said.

"Do you think he'll even notice?" Danny inquired.

"Who?" Mr. Bryson asked.

"The Weeping Warrior, of course!" Danny replied.

"Oh, sure, he'll be proud," Mr. Bryson said. "Every bit helps, and if you kids do a really good job, I'll give you two dollars each."

"Wow, two whole dollars!"

"Just let me know when you're finished," Mr. Bryson called over his shoulder.

"You bet!"

Two busy beavers toiled in the sun, clearing unsightly debris trapped in the thicket.

"Sure is hot today." Debbie wiped the sweat from her brow. "Not a cloud in the sky."

Danny could feel the hedge grow longer by the second. "This'll take forever! Can't we take a break?"

"But, we just started!"

"It's hopeless..."

"We can't quit now!" Debbie scolded. "The Weeping Warrior and Mr. Bryson need us. Look, that side's shady. Let's work over there."

"Ok, we'll clean here later."

Danny and Debbie slid the cumbersome trash bags around the roses where the hedge graciously offered shade. The young couple took to their hands and knees and tackled the daunting task once more.

"Whatcha gonna do with your two dollars?" Debbie asked.

"Heck, I don't know. I haven't had time to think about it."

"My Dad's gonna treat us to the carnival Saturday. You could win me a teddy bear."

"I bet I could!"

"Danny, will you ride the Ferris wheel with me?"

"Gee, it's awfully high."

"You're not scared are you?"

"Who, me? Of course not! It's just that, well..."

"Well, what?"

"But, I've never been before, Debbie."

"Me neither. Sure looks like fun!"

"But...what if we get stuck at the top?"

"Imagine the view!"

"Wouldn't you be scared?"

Debbie held his hand. "We'd be together."

"Having you there would be—" Danny tried to kiss her, but shied away.

"Et-hem, so, there you are! My wife thought you might like a drink."

"Terrific!" Debbie piped up. "Whatcha got, Mr. Bryson?"

"Please, call me Robby." The strapping man sat in the grass and emptied a pitcher between three glasses. "Ta-da!" he trumpeted. "Ice cold, homemade, tart and tangy, lemonade!"

"Yum!" Danny rubbed his tummy. "My favorite!"

"So, tell me, why aren't you two out playing?"

"It was my idea," Debbie said. "These things don't take care of themselves, ya know."

"True, but who thinks about the trash?"

Danny reclined with outstretched arms propped behind. "Only us kids see the heaps of trash. It's too low for Grumps."

"Grumps?"

"The Grown-ups," Debbie said. "They think we're too small for everything."

"But, you're not a Grump, Mr...I mean, Robby," Danny apologized.

"Well, that's comforting to hear."

"...Or, a Snake," Debbie added.

"Snake?" Robby was stumped again.

"The big kids who push us around. They're as bad as the Grumps."

"Oh, I see...so, picking up trash might get you noticed."

"I don't think anyone'll ever notice," Danny sighed.

"The Warrior is sad," Debbie said. "Aren't the Grumps even listening?"

"No, Debbie, I am afraid the Grumps don't listen very well."

"But, Moms always nag to clean up!"

"You see," Robby explained with a hearty chuckle, "Mom isn't here to remind them."

The inquisitive children sat in silence, mulling over Robby's enlightening words. A crow cawed in the distance. Debbie's bangs flitted in the breeze. She pushed her hair out of her eyes.

"Well..." Danny collected his thoughts. "Their Moms shouldn't have to."

"From the mouths of babes..." Robby muttered.

"What did you say?"

"I said, uhhh...you are very wise for your age."

"They're big enough to know better," Danny said.

"We sure won't be like them when we grow up," Debbie added.

"Sounds like you two are off to a fine start." Robby sipped his lemonade.

"Robby? Why are the Grumps so...dumb?"

The man spat his drink into the grass. He removed his baseball cap and stroked his hair. Sequins of sweat lined his brow. "Well, actually, et-hem..." Robby ran the cool glass across his forehead. "You know what I think?"

"No, what?"

"I think...I should go get your money, now."

# CHAPTER VI

Peekaboo, I've Seen You!

Refreshed, Debbie and Danny resumed litter duty. The sun climbed high into its throne and ruled the land – judge and jury. The air was still, too frightened to stir. One bird chirped in contempt, and the foolhardy cicadas refused to be silenced. The steamy day overruled the children's objections. The kids threw themselves upon the mercy of the court and lay beside the hedge. This time, the stingy bushes offered little shade.

"At this rate," Danny groaned, removing his shirt. "We'll finish by next year."

"It looks better already." The optimistic girl admired their work. "Look how far we've come."

The man returned before her partner could respond. "Here ya go, two dollars for each of you," he said.

"Thanks, Mr. Bryson," Debbie said, "But, we haven't finished."

"Still, you've certainly earned it....And, that's Robby, remember?"

The boy frowned. "I hoped we'd work the whole block..."

"Oh, we will!" Debbie's face was aglow with burgeoning smile. "And, without lifting a finger!"

"Say, that's quite a proposition," Mr. Bryson said. "Do you know magic?"

"No, but I know those Snakes... Show them what we've done, and they'll outdo us by a mile! They're always stealin' our fun."

"Debbie? Danny?" Mrs. Strong called across the yard. "...Lunch time!"

"We better go, mister...I mean, Robby," the girl pouted, taking her friend's hand. "C'mon, Danny."

"Hurry back for a dip in the pool."

"Really? You mean it?"

"Sure, that is...if it's ok with your mom."

"Wow! Not many kids can say they swam with a TV star!"

"I bet he'd even put us in one of his commercials!"

The kids scarfed down lunch and jumped into their swimsuits. Debbie wore a yellow one-piece, and Danny sported a pair of blue trunks. Their clomping flip-flops announced their arrival at Mr. Bryson's trellised gate.

"Ahoy!" Robby waved from the comfort of his lounge chair.

The sparkling pool beckoned. The boy opened the gate for his girl, and they walked along the water's edge. Suddenly, Danny froze; his gaze transfixed. From the waves popped a boiling image of a girl: his mystery girl, Patti. An icy finger ran up his spine. The boy shivered violently despite the sweltering heat. Dizzy, he belly-flopped into the pool. A tidal wave walloped Debbie. There she stood, drenched, with mouth agape.

"What's the matter, silly?...More bees?"

"No..."

"Then, quit clowning around!"

"Th-th-that g-g-girl!" Danny quavered, clambering onto the pool deck. "Didn't you see her?"

"I didn't see anyone."

"...In the water?"

"It's just your reflection."

" _Noooooooo!!!_ Look..." Danny howled. "There!"

Debbie stared into the water and shrugged. "I see nothing. Just you and me, and..."

"...And???"

"The rose bushes."

"Those aren't roses. It's her long, red hair!" Danny insisted. "She fell in the river, and—"

"Your brain's sun-fried, extra-crispy!"

"I'm fine!" Danny snapped. "There, there she is....Dead in the water!"

"Stop it! You're scaring me!...Is this your idea of a joke?"

The distraught child was choked-up with tears. "No joke!" he squeaked at last.

"Whoa, calm down..." Robby approached the bickering children. "What's all the fuss?"

"Danny saw something in the water."

"Some _one!_ " he corrected. "That girl with red hair – dead in the water!"

"Oooh, I wish you'd stop saying that," Debbie said. "It gives me the willies."

"...At least, I _think_ she's dead," Danny added.

"Well now, this sounds serious," Robby said. "Let me take a look."

The three stared at the waves. The pool filter chattered, and a light breeze stirred the water. Suddenly, the sun was masked by the only cloud in the sky.

The man took a knee and eyed the water. "I don't see anything."

"She's gone again..."

"Told ya!" Debbie scolded. "...Why are you crying?"

"She's...she's choking me!"

"What do you mean? Who is she?"

"I don't know!" Danny held his face in his hands.

"How'd ya meet her?"

"I can't remember! I mean, I haven't...well, not really...not yet."

"You're wacky!"

"Stop laughing at me!"

"But, I didn't..."

"Not you!... _YOU!_ " Danny shouted at the pool, bug-eyed. "She's not dead, you know," Danny sighed. "She's just fooling around."

"And, so are you!" Debbie was unnerved. "C'mon. Let's go swimming!"

Relaxed in his deck chair, Mr. Bryson watched the kids frolic in the pool. The twosome pretended to be dolphins and played tag. The leisurely afternoon washed away the sweat and the tears of the day.

"Deb-bie! Time to come home!"

"I think your Mom's calling..." Robby said.

"Com-ing!" The children exited the pool area, wrapped in beach towels.

"Thanks for everything, Robby!" Danny shouted, grabbing his flip-flops. Mr. Bryson waved goodbye and watched the pair disappear under the arched trellis.

"Race ya!" Danny said.

"You're on!" And, Debbie ran off with his towel.

* * *

The children dashed into the kitchen shadowed by Misty. Her fluffy tail bobbed above the furnishings like plumage in a lady's hat. "Whoa, slow down!" Mrs. Strong ordered, eyes glued to her cookbook. She dumped chopped greens into a steaming pot and seasoned to taste. "Phone's for you, Danny." Mrs. Strong pointed with her knife.

The receiver rested on the counter, strangled by its cord. The boy rescued the phone. "Hello?" The cord coiled around his neck.

"You sound hoarse," his father said. "Catching cold?"

"No, I..."

"Wait–here's your mother....Aggie? Aggie!"

Danny held the line and strained to decipher snatches of a distant conversation.

"Whatcha makin'?" Debbie asked.

"A mess," Mrs. Strong sighed. "This new dish is a recipe for disaster."

"Ew! Gross!"

"Hurry, Aggie!" his father blasted into the phone. "This call's costing a fortune!"

"Denny? How's me love?" Mum asked at last. "Been worried somethin' fierce..."

"Who...me?" The pool fiasco flashed through Danny's mind. "No fears, Mummy."

"What's this talk of a cold, I hear?

The boy rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Mummy!"

"'Tis a good time yea be havin'?"

"Me 'n' Debbie, we swum—"

"Swam, lad..."

"At Robby's, and..."

"Robby? Surely yea mean Mr. Bryson," Mum scolded. "Mind yer manners, child."

"Mummy? How was your flight?"

"Funny yea ask," Mum began. "The plane..."

"The plane?" Danny interrupted. "Oh, it had to take a different course."

"Aye, the mountains stole me breath!" Mum gushed. "Like giant..."

"Gumdrops?"

"Indeed!"

"I know. Dad said the mountains looked like gumdrops, and..."

"Sakes! Yea father already told yea now, did he?"

"No, I mean..."

"Ah, how I wish yea could see it fir yerself."

"Oh, I did see it!" Danny cheered. "I saw it, Mummy!"

"See what?" Debbie yanked the phone away from his ear. "What did you see?"

"Sh!" Danny grappled for the receiver. "I'll tell you later."

"That's me Denny," Mum chuckled. "Always got me leg..."

"I'm not kidding!" Danny insisted. "I saw the mountains in a dream before you left."

"Bless me soul!" Mum gasped, clenching the phone to her chest. "Al? Al, come quick!"

"What's the matter, Aggie?"

"It's Denny!"

"Did you tell him about the mountains?"

"He already knew!"

"That's nice," Dad sighed. "...He already knew?"

"Al, he must have me gift!"

"That's great! Imagine the money we'll save on airfare..."

"Yea'd be a-likin' it here, lad. A veritable feast for the eyes."

"Yup."

"One day, yea must see San Francisco."

"I already have!"

"Tell me true, could yea see it plain as day, lad?"

"Sure, but..."

"Like bein' right here beside us?"

"Sure, we were all there – me and you and Dad and..."

"Who, Denny? Tell me...who?"

"Oh, you know..." Danny whispered. "Patti was there, too!"

# CHAPTER VII

Sisterhood

"Ah-ha! I caught you this time!" Dad stormed into the galley kitchen. "Don't deny it."

"Caught me?" Mother laughed, unconcerned. "It's no crime to peel potatoes."

"Did you really think you could sneak out tonight?"

"Is that what's eating you?"

"...Like, I wouldn't notice?"

"I'm your prisoner, is that it?" Potato wedges flew into a pot; splashes of oil sizzled on the stove. "...Guess I forgot to check with the warden."

"I heard you on the teleph—"

"You spying on me, now?" Mother said. "That was a private conversation!"

"...Wanna call a cop?" Dad asked, tossing his wife a dime.

"I hate you!" Mother stole into the breakfast nook, slamming plates down on the table.

"Damn it, Miranda—"

"Damn it, Freddy!" Patti slapped the dinner table. "I hate you!" The two eyed their daughter, shocked. "Damn it!" she parroted with a giggle. "Damn it! Damn it!"

"Nice father-daughter bonding there, dear....Your idea of quality time?"

Mother and Dad turned their backs on each other and retreated to opposite corners.

"All right, lay it on me," Lynn sighed, bouncing into the room. The teen was all dolled up with silver glitter lining her head like a tiara. Blanched braids of beaded locks jangled like wind chimes. "What kind of trouble is the Pest in now, Mother? You were shout—"

"I-I-I forbid you to contact him!" Dad quavered. "I-I-I forbid you to see him."

"Don't you tell _me_ what to do!"

"I'm trying to save our marriage!"

"Some marriage..."

"So help me, missy, I'll, I'll—"

Mother got right into his face. "You'll what?"

"Is something wrong?" Lynn asked. "'Cause, I'm sensing a lot of negative energy..."

"Stuff it, Lynn! Take a load off and stay awhile."

"But, Mother, that's so unfair!" the budding teen whined. "My friends will be here any minute to pick me up!"

"Yeah, well...life is cruel."

"You can't do this to me. If it were Patti, you'd let her go! Besides, you promised!"

"See that?" Dad mumbled. "I guess we all know what her promises are worth,"

"Clam up, Fred!" Mother snapped. "This is between me and my daughter."

"No, no, no! No more!" The forgotten child burst into tears, and the forgotten pot burst into flames. Her parents scrambled, blocking each other's paths.

"Christ, Miranda, get out the way!" Dad pushed the woman to the ground, wet a dish towel, and smothered the flames. "You left the burner on high again! How many times..."

"Back off!" Mother sunk into the chair between her daughters. Her hand propped up her head.

"So...can I go, Mother?" Lynn begged.

"Call your little friends and tell them it's off."

"Mother, you can't do this to me! What will I tell them?"

"Life's kickin' my big fat butt every which way like a hedgehog in a cattle stampede. I don't give a damn what you tell them."

"That's nice, Mother," her older daughter groaned. "Can I quote you?"

"Damn it, Lynn! Can't you see I got a shitload on my mind?"

Dad cleared his throat. "You mean that shithead...Tim?"

"What the hell do you know?"

"Believe me..." Dad leaned across the table. Scowling faces pressed nose-to-nose. "I know."

"You bastard!" Mother flung juice in her husband's face and fired the glass at the wall. It shattered with a pop.

" _Stoooooooooop it!_ " Patti wailed like a siren, covering her ears. "Stop it, damn it!"

"Look what you've done!" Mother embraced her daughter. "You've upset my precious Patti-cakes!"

"She's mine, too, ya know."

"I know..." Mother frowned, circling back to the galley with her husband in hot pursuit. "That's what's upsetting her."

"I'm not the one fooling around with Tim!"

"How can you be so insensitive?" Mother retrieved a glass and slammed the cabinet door. "Don't you care?"

"Of course! I care deeply for Patti!"

"I'm talking about Tim! He's going through a hard time, and..."

"I don't believe this!"

"Well, it's true. He needs me."

"Can't you see I love—" The man reached for his wife, but she dodged his embrace.

"Don't touch me!" Mother drew water from the sink and guzzled a glassful. "You never loved me..." She belched in his face. "Don't start pretending now."

"I do love you!" Dad pounded the counter. "There, I said it! Maybe, I haven't shown it lately, but you're my wife!"

"Unfortunately..."

"You vowed to be faithful!"

"I had my fingers crossed."

"How can you joke?"

"Who's joking?"

"So...our marriage is one big joke, is that it?"

"Tim understands me. He's sensitive and caring and fun, and..."

"And, I'm not?" Dad gazed out the window, drew a heavy sigh, and collected his thoughts. "What about us, Miranda?" He spun around and looked his wife in the eye. "Whatever happened to us?"

Mother turned away in silence.

"Damn it, answer me! Are you throwing away our marriage?"

"I don't know!" The distraught woman covered her face and wept. "I don't know anymore, all right?"...I'm confused!...I'm scared!"

Dad cupped his hands around his mouth. "Welcome to reality, girl!"

"I need my space, Fred! I need time..."

"What are you saying?"

"Things—" Mother choked on her words. "Things change, ok?"

"Honey, nothing's really changed..."

"Everything's changed!" she sobbed. "It's all very complicated. Tim was there. I felt vulnerable... And we...well, we connected. We found each other. It was..."

"Convenient?"

"He needs me."

"Wake up, woman! He's using you!"

"Don't judge him, you ass!"

"That's it...I'm outta here!"

"Fine! I can take care of myself, ya know."

"I'm sure you can. Just don't burn the place down."

"No, Daddy, no!" Patti rushed to her father's side. "Don't leave me! I'll be a good girl!" Her father grabbed his coat with the girl clinging to his leg. "I'll be good, Daddy!" she wailed. The man detached the protesting child. "I promise, Daddy! I'll be—" The door slammed in Patti's face. The girl burst into tears and threw a tantrum on the floor.

Patti arose, wiping her tears. She sighed and caught her breath. "Why was Daddy yelling?" The tot gazed up at her big sister in admiration. "Why did Daddy go away?"

"This is all _your_ fault," Lynn snapped. "He really wanted a boy, ya know."

"You made that up!"

"Would I lie to you? I overheard him confessing to Mother."

She stared at Lynn through watery eyes. "...Really?"

"Trust me, snitch." Her sibling sprouted a devilish grin. "After all, what are sisters for?"

"Ooh, I hate boys!" Patti stomped her foot. "I hate 'em! I hate 'em! I hate 'em!"

That night, Patti lay awake in bed. Lynn's words echoed in her head. _He really wanted a boy...trust me, snitch...he really wanted a boy_. She hugged Freddy. Tears raced down her cheeks. "I hate boys!" she growled; eyes ablaze. _What are sisters for?...he really wanted a boy...trust me, snitch... this is all your fault... would I lie to you?_ Patti wrapped her icy hands around the bear's neck and proceeded to squeeze. "I hate boys, and I hate you!"

* * *

"No air!" The guest of the Strong household shot up in bed, clenching his throat. His voice was raspy; his breathing shallow. "No air!"

"Wake up, Danny!" Mr. Strong snapped his fingers before the boy's glazed eyes. Danny did not blink. "You're dreaming."

"What is it, Mommy?" Debbie yawned, strolling into the spare bedroom. She rubbed her sleepy eyes. "What's wrong with Danny?"

"Go back to bed – both of you!"

Mrs. Strong ignored her husband and held her daughter near.

"Can't...breathe!"

"Shhhh..." Mr. Strong rubbed his back. "Don't talk."

"Stop...it!" Danny thrashed about. "She's...hurting—"

"No one's hurting you, son" Mr. Strong assured.

"What in the world?" Mrs. Strong asked.

"Mum...pull...harder!"

* * *

"Damn it..." Patti squeezed the bear's neck until her fingernails penetrated the fur. Tears streamed down her face. "I hate you!" Patti sat up in bed, laughing hysterically – long and hideously evil.

* * *

"She's... she's..." The possessed boy inhaled as if to catch his final breath. "She's got her hooks in me!"

"Danny, stop it!" Debbie cried. "You're scaring me now!"

"Quit choking me, Patti!"

"Who's this Patti person?" Mrs. Strong asked, mid-yawn.

"Get off me!" Danny bossed. "Let go of my neck!"

"Some girl he saw at the pool today."

"Oh? A new friend?

"Quit it!!!"

"We must invite her over..."

"Mom, _pleazzzzzze!_ " Debbie rolled her eyes.

"Damn it, Patti, stop laughing at me!"

"What did he say?"

"Nothing I care to repeat," Mr. Strong snapped. "Debbie, get to bed!"

* * *

"I hate you!" Patti thrashed Freddy against the headboard until the smiling bear disintegrated into shreds. "I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

"What's wrong, darling?" Mother called from the hall. There came no reply. Mother approached Patti's bed, wading through a blizzard of fluff.

* * *

Danny's limp body collapsed on the bed. His head sank into the pillow. Mrs. Strong placed her ear up to his mouth. "He's breathing fine now," she reported.

"It must have been one of _those_ dreams," Mr. Strong whispered, "as his parents had cautioned."

"Let him rest," Mrs. Strong agreed.

"Geez, he looks like a rag doll," Debbie gasped, "with all his stuffing gone!"

* * *

"Did you do this?" Mother asked, handing her daughter the teddy bear's severed head.

"Someone sure knocked the stuffing out of him, huh?" Patti laughed.

"Looks that way."

"I didn't do it!"

"Well, then...who did?"

"Maybe somebody else."

"Someone else did this?"

"I said _maybe!_ "

"That's my little lady." Mother stumbled to the door and stepped into the hall. "Good night."

"Mother?"

"Go to sleep, precious..."

"What will we do about them?"

" _Them?_ " Mother turned back into the bedroom.

"Boys. I hate them all!"

"Get some sleep, pumpkin..."

"Daddy really didn't want me?" Patti wept. "How could Daddy be so mean?"

Mother knelt beside Patti's bed. "Your father's a horrible man."

"So, he left?"

"Trust me, it's all for the best."

"What'll we do?"

"Just leave everything to me..."

"...Without Daddy?"

"Trust me. You do trust me...don't you, darling?"

"Yes, Mother." Patti snuggled under the covers.

"Soon, you'll have a new family. How's that sound? Just you and me."

"And, a new daddy, too!!!"

"Hmm?...A new daddy?"

"A new daddy! A new daddy!...What's his name?"

"Right, dear. What's his name."

The girl yawned, half-asleep. "Will he like me, Mother?"

"Trust me..." the woman assured. "After all, doesn't Mother know best?"

# CHAPTER VIII

First Comes Love

"Rrrr-uff!" Misty snarled at the front door. "Ah-woo-woo-woo! Ruff, ruff, ruff!"

"Debbie! Danny!" Mr. Strong called. "There's a surprise here for you." The excited tots dressed in a hurry and ran to the living room where two reporters waited to greet them.

"These must be our conquering heroes," a charming lady said. The shell-shocked children instantly recognized the woman from the local TV news. She was tall and slim with curly hair. She wore a maroon sport coat with a small microphone clipped to her blouse. A large, golden "6" in a circle clasped her kerchief.

"I'm your roving reporter, Tonya Roxford. And, this is my cameraman, Lou Blake." The group shook hands, exchanging pleasantries. "I understand two ambitious pioneers live here."

"That's correct, Tonya." The familiar voice was that of their neighbor, Robby Bryson. Hand behind his head, he lounged in a recliner and waited to reap the joy from the seeds he sowed.

Debbie and Danny were speechless unable to comprehend what was happening. The reporter knelt to address her diminutive subjects. "Robby here informed Channel 6 how you're out to change the world."

"Gee, I wouldn't go that far..." Danny blushed.

"That's why we want to hear it in your own words," Tonya explained. "Why don't you both take seats on the sofa? And Lou, set the camera up about here..."

"Are we going to be on TV?"

"You sure are... Tonight's evening news."

"Tonya, I'll need them to move closer together," the camera man gestured.

"...Honest?" Debbie squirmed beside her partner.

"Now, don't be nervous," Tonya smiled. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions."

"Are you two brother and sister?" the cameraman asked.

Debbie reached for Danny's hand. "No, silly!" The two laughed at the mere thought of this. "He's my boyfriend!"

"Puppy love, huh? Better watch these two, Mr. Strong."

"Don't I know it!"

Lou flicked on a lamp atop the camera. The children squinted in the blinding light. "And, we're rolling..."

"I'm Tonya Roxford, your roving reporter. Tonight, meet two remarkable children out to change the world: Deborah Str—"

"Debbie!" she insisted. "Call me Debbie."

"Ok, Debbie...and Daniel?"

"Ormont. _Danny_ Ormont."

"They have been chosen to receive this month's _Good Neighbor_ award," Tonya continued.

Debbie and Danny stared at each other; their faces frozen in surprise. "And, what a good neighbor to have – none other than Mister Elixir himself, Robby Bryson," the reporter continued. "Robby, tell us...why you have chosen to nominate these two kids?"

"I discovered these young volunteers cleaning up the neighborhood," Mr. Bryson explained.

"And, they've been working hard at it all week!"

"What made you think to do it, Danny?" Tonya inquired.

"Actually, it was all Debbie's idea."

"Debbie, perhaps you can enlighten us..."

"It was the Weeping Warrior!" the girl piped up. "He told us to do it."

"Seriously?" Tonya said, impressed. "He told you this, did he?"

"Not _me_ , silly goose... He's telling everyone! We must all pitch in to do our part."

"Debbie and me just figured it's something us kids can do."

"And, how big of an area did you cover?"

"We're working our way around the block," Danny said. "We're not allowed to go very far."

"Do you think other kids will follow your example?"

"We hope so," Debbie said. "Especially the Grumps. They should be cleanin' up their own mess, too."

"Grumps?"

"The grown-ups..." the girl continued. "They're always telling kids to clean up, right?"

"Oh, I see. So, you're asking for their help in return?"

"If only the Grumps cared, we'd all share the bestest reward of all."

"Well spoken, young man," the reporter commended. You're certainly an inspiration to us all."

"Even doing a little bit can make a big difference," Debbie added.

"You two certainly have proven that you don't have to be a philanthropist to do good."

"Thanks...I think," Debbie said. "What's a _philanderer?_ "

Tonya belly-laughed. "I think you mean _philanthropist_."

"Yeah, that," Debbie replied. "Whatever that means..."

"Philanthropist? Why, uh..." the reporter floundered. "It's a kind, wealthy person."

"Oh, sure," Debbie said. "Even philanderers should try to make a difference."

"Cut!" The woman burst into fits of laughter. "Robby, why don't you stand next to the kids while I present the award?" Tonya said at last, catching her breath.

Lou framed the scene with his hands. "Even better, he should sit between them on the couch." Robby followed the cameraman's direction and sat on the couch. "...Action!"

"Now, on behalf of the Channel 6 _Good Neighbor_ program," Tonya said. "I am pleased to present each of you with this community medal, and..."

"Wow!"

"Here's a $100 savings bond for each of you." Tonya concluded.

"So, tell us..." Mr. Bryson spread his arms across the children's shoulders. "How does it feel to receive such an honor?"

"Groovy!"

"There you have it folks," Tonya concluded. "Small heroes doing monumental deeds."

"So...we're gonna be on TV? When?"

"Well...yes, yes you are...but not until next week. You see..."

"We film it first, of course." Lou spoke up, rescuing his colleague. "Then, there's the editing... and the scheduling..."

The children scratched their heads; their sagging brows suddenly elevated in excitement. The signature rhythm of jingling bells cut the air. "Ice cream!"

"Dad, can we have money for ice cream?...Please?"

Mr. Strong smiled down at his daughter. "I guess you two heroes deserve it."

Debbie and Danny thanked their guests again and bolted out the door. "Keep watching Channel 6 news!" Tonya shouted after them.

The children scampered over the stone path like rabbits. Danny waved to flag down the ice cream man. "What'll it be, kids?" the driver asked, hopping off his truck.

"I'll have an Almond Smash..."

"One crushed nut. That'll be 35 cents."

"Wait, we're together." Danny directed in a mature manner. "She'll be glad to pay you."

"I'd like a Chocolate Rocket, please..."

"One pop and mop." The driver handed the girl a fudge popsicle wrapped in a napkin.

Glancing down, something in the grass caught Danny's eye. He knelt down and grabbed it while Debbie paid the ice cream man for his wares. The boy slipped the object into his shirt pocket. The man climbed back into the driver's seat and returned to his daily route. Those entrancing bells sang their merry tune and faded into the distance.

"Let's go play under the willow," Debbie suggested. "I'll race ya!" Danny chased after Debbie. They ran across the lush lawn and down a gentle slope along the side of the house. Misty stood guard at the patio glass door when the kids jetted into the backyard. The dog barked incessantly, longing to play. Danny took the lead and broke through the willow like a sprinter crossing the finish line.

"I coulda beat ya," Debbie bragged. "...If I really wanted to."

"No way!" Danny protested, unwrapping his ice cream. "I had ya beat by a mile." Debbie did not continue to argue. She was too busy licking drips running off her fudge pop.

The weeping willow's rugged branches spidered outward from its burly trunk. It was one of a few veteran trees from a forgotten forest. The pair loved to escape under the protection of its dense, drooping foliage. Its shade provided a magical haven where childhood dreams thrived. Here, the rascals were free – liberated from the Grump's world.

"Look, Debbie! There's a daisy!"

"Yeah, they grow wild in the yard..."

"Daisies can tell the future, ya know."

"You're crazy!...A crazy daisy!"

"Here, I'll show you..." The boy sat on the cool ground. Danny held his girl on his lap with one hand curled around her waist, and he held the flower with the other. The wide-eyed girl remained riveted; her curiosity piqued. "She loves me, she loves me not," he muttered. "She loves me, she loves me not..."

"Well?" Debbie cried, impatiently awaiting the results of this crucial opinion poll.

Danny let the final pedal fall to the ground, overflowing with joy. "Hey!" he trumpeted. "It says _she loves me!_ "

"That's because I _do_ love you," Debbie smiled. "And, daisies are too pretty to lie. But, Danny...I'm worried about you," Debbie said, somberly. "You haven't been yourself."

"Huh? What do you mean by that?"

The girl took to her feet. "You've sure been acting weird lately. Are you sure you're ok?"

"I feel fine." Danny arose and brushed away some dirt. "Why do you ask?"

"First, you see that girl in the swimming pool, and last night..."

"Last night?" Danny shouted. "What about last night?"

"That girl...Patti? She was hurting you. I was frightened stiff!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you remember? You woke the entire house!"

"No, I didn't!"

"...Except for Mitchell," she laughed. "That lump could sleep through an earthquake."

"Maybe you were dreaming."

"You were yelling at Patti. She was choking you, and..."

"What an imagin—"

"You scared us half to death! Go ask my parents..."

"Did I?" he chuckled, nervously. "Musta slept through it."

"You mean, you don't recall a thing?...Not even Patti?" Danny flashed his girl a smile and shied away. A stiff breeze swayed the branches. "Patti's the one, isn't she?...The one you saw yesterday?...The one in the pool?"

"Do you believe me now?"

"I guess I shouldn't doubt what goes on inside that head of yours!"

"Forget it, will ya?" Danny whispered. "I gotta show you something."

"What is it?"

"Open your hand and close your eyes," Danny chanted. "And, you will get a big surprise." He waited for Debbie to follow his instructions. Carefully, he slipped the delicate item from his shirt pocket into Debbie's palm and closed her hand around it.

"Wow! A four leaf clover!" Debbie cried. "Where'd you get it?"

"I found it when you were paying for the ice cream."

"That's great! It'll bring you good luck all day."

"That's why I want you to have it."

"Oh no, Danny...I couldn't!"

The love struck boy ignored her objection, placing her left hand in his. He looped the clover stem around her ring finger and wound the excess under until it held fast.

The girl's heart swelled with delight. "My very own ring!" A smile pinched Debbie's reddened cheeks. She held up her hand and admired the heart-shaped leaves encircling her finger. The pair fidgeted unsure what to do next. A spotlight of sun stroked her blond hair.

"Debbie, I love you," Danny said, hypnotized by her radiant beauty. "Will you marry me?"

"Oh, Danny!" she shrieked with joy.

"Promise?...With whipped cream and a cherry on top?"

"Of course, silly! ...And, here's something for you, too!"

"What is it?"

"It's a secret. Come closer..."

Danny brushed against Debbie's cheek. She turned and surprised the unsuspecting boy with a smack on the mouth. Her soft lips felt warm and inviting. They held hands, took a step back, gazed into each other's eyes, and giggled. Danny clasped the girl's waist and drew her near. Debbie draped her arms over his shoulders. Under the sanctuary of the willow, the smitten couple embraced–never wishing to release each other. Their heads rested on each other's shoulders resembling two swans. He caressed her hair with gentle strokes, and she reciprocated. Again, their lips met, united in a timeless kiss. Two hearts burst with unimaginable bliss: thrilling, mysterious, and new. Locked in each other's arms, they swayed to their own sweet music. The newlyweds floated in a dream when Misty burst their bubble, knocking the children to earth.

"Ready? _FIRE!!!_ "

Bone-chilling water sprayed through the foliage. " _MITCHELL!!!_ " The drenched duo bolted from under the willow, howling.

"My, my, Vinnie..." a voice snickered. "Do I see a pair of love birds?"

"I didn't know love birds were water fowl!" Vinnie snickered.

"Snakes..." Danny shook his head in disgust. "Can't they ever leave us alone?"

"Danny and Debbie sitting in a tree," the teens shouted in unison. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"First comes love...then comes marriage..."

"Aw, cut it out!" the tots protested. "C'mon now!"

But the teens would not cease and desist. "Hey Vinnie, I heard we're gonna barbecue tonight."

"Looks like things are heating up already...ha-ha-ha!"

"Quit it, Mitchell!" Debbie shouted. "Just ignore them, Danny..."

"What's the matter?" Mitchell prodded. "Didn't you like your _wedding shower?_ "

"Always remember," added Vinnie. "It's the thought that counts!"

"Were you dumb-dumbs snoopin'?"

"Vincent, ole chap, if the early bird catches the worm, what does the early worm catch?"

"The bouquet!...Ain't that sick?"

"So funny I forgot to laugh," Debbie said, kicking Mitchell's shin. "That's for snooping!"

"OW! Hey, I wasn't snoopin'..."

"You were, too!"

"Actually, he wasn't," Vinnie smirked. "...We both were!"

"Good!" Debbie whacked his brother's friend in the knee. "Wouldn't want ya to feel left out!"

"Mom told me to go see what you two were doing...so, I just _had_ to see!"

"C'mon, Danny," Debbie tossed her nose in the air. "Better go get changed." Soaking wet, the couple ran hand-in-hand towards the house with Misty close on their heels.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Vinnie shouted after them. "Will there be a honeymoon?"

# CHAPTER IX

The Queens of Hearts

Reclining in the living room, Mrs. Strong read her book when she spied an unidentified furry object from the corner of her eye. "Misty?...Oh, no!" The woman jumped to her feet and inspected the scene. Muddy paw prints covered the tile. "Not my clean floor!...Shoo, Shoo!" The canine stood amidst the muck and cocked her head as if trying to solve some complex riddle. "Bad dog!" Misty merely yawned. Drool dripped from her tongue. "Get out, stupid dog!"

No sooner had she cleaned up the mess when Debbie and Danny tromped across the kitchen, dripping wet. "Goodness!" Mrs. Strong cried, dropping her mop. "What happened to you two?"

" _Mitchell_ happened, that's what!"

"Well, move along!" Mrs. Strong said, pushing the mop at their feet. "Hop into some dry clothes. Gracious..." The woman attempted to mop the floor once more. "I'll never get my cleaning done!"

"...Listen, Vinnie. I'm shootin' ya straight," Mitchell said, traipsing mud across the kitchen. "Want a snack? I think there's some pie..."

"What do you think you're doing?" His mother slammed down the mop, lunged across the room, and shut the refrigerator door in his face.

"Sheesh, Ma! I'm grabbin' a bite...why?"

"Just look at my nice, clean floor!"

The teens glanced around, confused. "...Where?" her son said at last.

"They'll be no pie until you clean up this mess! How many times have I told you to wipe your feet, Mitch?"

"Gee, I don't know. Hundreds...why?"

"And, what's this?" Mrs. Strong tapped her foot. "Your filthy mitts – all over my fridge!"

The teens studied the handprints. "Hey, you can't prove those are mine!" the accused said in his own defense.

"Au contraire, mon frere!" Vinnie said. "I do believe she can."

"Don't listen to him..." her son pleaded. "He's a hostile witness."

"Mitchell, this place was spotless, and that's how it's gonna stay – understand?"

"Sorry, Ma. Tell ya what..." Mitchell snickered, seeing double. "The Bobsy twins will be glad to tidy up." The youths returned to the scene of the grime, donning their matching birdie shirts. "Maybe they'll win another award!"

Mrs. Strong stretched her aching back. "Instead of swiping a snack," she said, slapping a rag in Mitchell's hand. "Try wiping away your hunger!...Here. Give him a hand, Vincent."

"Gee, all I wanted was pie..."

"C'mon Danny..." Debbie took Danny's hand in hers, and they headed towards the door.

"We'll be eating soon, so don't wander off."

"Ok, Ma. We won't."

"Actually, Debbie, you can set the picnic table for dinner."

"Aw, Ma..."

"And, Danny? Remind Mr. Strong it's time to light the grill."

Armed with barbecue tools, Mr. Strong tamed the pot-bellied beast while fiery tongues licked its chops–steaks and patties, that is to say. Mrs. Strong served corn on the cob and dished out potato salad, patiently awaiting the bounties of her husband's labor.

Danny's eyes swelled. "Everything looks yummy!"

"Dig in, kid...don't be shy."

"Oh, don't worry about him, Ma. He could out-eat an army!"

"Deborah, mind your P's and Q's."

"Sorry, Ma..." The girl corrected her posture and removed her elbows from the table. Her mother's tone could straighten the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

Mitchell and Vinnie rushed to the table and pounced upon their seats. "And, where have you beach bums been?" Mrs. Strong pointed her fork at her son like a bayonet, jabbing the air. "Didn't I tell you to stick around?"

"You could have reminded us, Ma!"

"I told you once."

"You could have hollered..."

"I shouldn't have to."

"Hey, we cleaned the kitchen. What more do ya want?"

"Punctuality. You were late."

"Give me a break, will ya? We were right out front admiring Vinnie's car." Mitchell emitted a low whistle. "That hot rod's a real rocket!"

"Glad you could join us," his father shouted over the sizzling grill. "You'll eat last."

Debbie stuck out her tongue, and Mitchell mirrored the endearing gesture.

"Go wash, boys," Mrs. Strong ordered. "Pass the cole slaw, Deb, please..."

Her husband abandoned his culinary duties and wiped his hands on his chef's apron. "Steaks coming up, hon..." He plopped his weary body down, jarring his fellow benchmates. The man fixed burgers for the young ones. But, the instant food touched his own lips, the kettle seethed like a cauldron-cooking witch's brew. "There she blows, right on time!" Mr. Strong said, dropping his fork. "Remember, Danny. There are no starving artists...just starving chefs."

Stuffed faces kept the table absent of conversation – minus one mouth. "RawOOwl!" Misty sang for her supper, tempted by the smorgasbord of aromas. "Woof, woof!"

The teens returned, snickering amongst themselves. "Well, if it isn't me and my shadow."

"Mommy!" Debbie cried. "Mitchell's teasing me!"

"Mitt..." His mother choked down a bite of her meal. "Stop teasing your sister."

"Woof!"

"Good heavens!" Mrs. Strong declared. "I forgot to feed Misty!"

"I'll feed her!" Danny volunteered.

"Nice try, peewee," Mitchell joked. "But, Misty doesn't like _shrimp!_ "

"Ain't no meat on your bones, anyway..." Vinnie slapped his friend a high-five. "She'd die of hunger!"

"Yuk it up, boys," Mrs. Strong said. "Go ahead, Danny. Show them..."

"Don't go away." The boy excused himself from the table and rushed to the house.

Mitchell nudged his friend. "Gee, I didn't know this is a dinner theatre!"

Danny received a round of applause upon his return. He crossed the lawn with the skill of a tight-rope walker, ever-mindful not to cause a spill. Everyone held their breath as he approached the beast.

"Woof! Woof, woof!" The starved animal lunged at the boy with tail-wagging approval.

"I can't watch!" Mitchell said, covering Vinnie's eyes. "Tell me when it's over."

"Wook, Misty!" Danny set down the dog dish and stroked her thick coat. "Wook what I have for woo!" Misty tore into her food, and Danny returned to the table unscathed. The crowd went wild. That is to say all but Mitchell and Vinnie. They were dumbfounded.

"Who's laughing now?" Debbie beamed. "Suck eggs, ya eggheads!"

"I never thought..." Vinnie stuttered. "Who'd believe...?"

The fire was burning low, and the table was barren. "Honey?" Mrs. Strong called to her husband. "Help me collect the trash."

"Darn," Mitchell sighed. "There goes our entertainment for the evening."

"Don't despair. I brought the entertainment." Mrs. Strong produced a deck of cards from her pocket and tossed it on the table. "I thought you'd enjoy a quiet game before dessert."

"How soon's dessert?" Mitchell frowned.

"Soon."

"How soon?"

"Soon as you play one game with your sister."

"Not soon enough. I got company here."

"Don't be ridiculous. Vinnie's not company," Mom scowled. "He's family...like Danny."

"Close enough..." Mitchell elbowed his friend and winked. "Danny's practically movin' in!"

"What did you say?"

"Et-hem, I said, uhhhh...let the gamin' begin!"

"What should we play?" Danny asked.

"How about Poker?" Vinnie snickered. Mrs. Strong scowled at the youth. "I was only funnin'," he blushed. "How 'bout Fifty-Two Pick Up?"

Danny was intrigued. "How do you play that?"

"You _don't_ wanna know." Debbie rolled her eyes. "How about Old Maid?"

"Old Maid?" Vinnie chuckled. "That's a little baby's game."

"Takes one to know one!"

"Not again! We play that _every_ time, Debbie!" Her brother groaned, holding his head. "Can't we play something else for once?"

"Do it for your sister, will ya?" Mrs. Strong said, wiping the tablecloth.

"Ma...you're not helping. You should be defending your only son.

"Then...do it for dessert."

"Depends. What are we having?"

"Blueberry pie," Mrs. Strong said. "But, you'll have nothing unless you play with your sister!"

"Ok, ok..." Mitchell shuffled the cards, forming a double bridge. "You girls know how to play this game, right?" The cards snapped into a single pile.

"No, duuh!" Debbie sneered at her sibling

Mitchell spread the deck. "Pick a card, Ma, any card."

"Let's see..." Mrs. Strong stared at the strewn pile. "Here you are...the Queen of

Diamonds," she said, placing the card face up.

"That means one queen has no match," Vinnie clarified. "That'll be the Old Maid."

Debbie scrunched up her face. "We know that, dummy!"

"Hey, don't call my friend a dummy, Dummy!" Mitchell defended.

"Children!" Mrs. Strong clapped her hands. "Stop this instant!"

Mitchell swept up the cards. "I'll deal," he said. The players studied their hands wearing their best poker faces.

"Make pairs, Danny, like me."

"But, I can't make a match, yet."

"Don't worry. You will."

"Vinnie, you start..."

"No fair! Why should Vinnie start?" Debbie grumbled. "Just because he's your friend..."

"Because he's on my right," Mitchell said. "Play always starts from the dealer's right."

The children took turns picking cards from each other's hands. "Danny," Mitchell grumbled. "You're stacking your cards."

"What's the difference?"

"I can't pick from your hand. Here. Fan out your cards, like mine...that's better."

Play resumed. The players continued to build melds, except for Danny who had not made a single match. Curiously, whatever Danny selected from Debbie's hand ultimately helped Mitchell build pairs. All except the Queen of Hearts which stubbornly remained in Danny's hand.

"Almost done this round," Vinnie announced.

"It can't be!" Danny groaned. "I haven't made a single match!"

"Tough luck, squirt!" Vinnie laughed. "Ow! Debbie, quit kicking me!"

"Sorry, _Vincent_ ," the girl sneered. "It's a habit...!"

"Just be sure to kick the habit, and not me!"

"Danny!" Mitchell griped. "You're doing it again!"

"What'd I do?"

"You're stacking your cards!"

"I am? Sorry..." Danny spread the remaining two cards in his hand.

"Choose wisely, boss," Vinnie cautioned. "This one's for the game."

Mitchell closed his eyes and picked a card from Danny's hand. "Ta-da!" he trumpeted, opening his eyes. "A match!"

"Ha-ha, ha-ha!" Vinnie rang out. "Danny's the Old Maid!"

"Oh, who cares?" The child slammed the Queen of Hearts on the table, and another Queen of Hearts appeared from behind. "Huh, and to think I couldn't make a match the whole game!"

Vinnie's jaw dropped. "B-b-but, that's impossible..."

"Hey, the little brat's cheating!" Mitchell accused.

"Nice detective work, Mitch..." Debbie said. "Cheating to lose?"

"He can't be cheating..." Mrs. Strong rubbed her eyes. "It's a brand new deck!"

"Danny..." Debbie whispered in her friend's ear. "How'd you do that?"

"I dunno," the boy blushed. "Just lucky, I guess,"

"Looks like someone's been practicing card tricks," Mrs. Strong smiled. "...Pie anyone?"

* * *

Gorged, Danny and Debbie sprawled out on the lawn. The sweet smell of fresh cut grass tickled their noses. The air was rich with song. Spring peepers croaked their evening concert accompanied by a lone whippoorwill. The sun sank into a crimson patchwork of mares tails.

" _Aaaaaaah!!!_ " The obsessed child leapt to his feet. "Look at the sky! Do you see her?"

Debbie shot up straight. " _Her?_ " Squinting, she blocked the sun with her hand. "Is it... _you know who?_ "

"Patti?"

"Who? Oh, you mean...from the pool?"

The boy gave a solid nod; his eyes riveted skyward.

"The girl of your dreams, right?"

"Do you see her, too?"

"No..."

"Can't you see her red hair?" Danny stomped his foot. "Flowing across the sun?"

"I see the sunset—"

"Something's wrong," Danny quavered. "I know that look."

"What are you talking about?"

"She's mad at me."

"For once, just once," she sighed, scanning the sky for a clue. "I wish I could see her..."

"She's gone again. The wind's carrying her away." The child collapsed on the grass and wept. "I-I'm _always_ too late."

"But, if I can't see her," Debbie caressed the boy's locks. "Are you sure she's _really_ there?"

No reply. The boy's inconsolable sobbing chilled her more than the night air. She watched the stars – one by one – outshine the dying embers of twilight. "Hey, Danny..." she whispered in his ear. "Tell me those funny star names again. You know, Ruben is spaghetti," she giggled. "And, Ruben is macaroni!"

The boy sat up and smiled. Debbie wiped away his tears. "You mean, Zuben El-Shamini and Zuben El-Shamali."

It was the height of the space age when boys pawned cowboy fantasies for astral adventures. But, Danny did not simply dream of rocket ships and space walks. The stars were his friends, and Danny knew them all by name. With a curiosity nurtured by his parents, he recognized the constellations and memorized their underlying myths. He understood the seasonal shifts, and how to navigate his way around the night sky.

"Huh? Ruben runs a deli?"

The two laughed hysterically. "Someday, I'm gonna go up there," Danny vowed, pulling the unsuspecting girl onto his lap.

"You know?" Debbie smiled. "I believe you will."

The happy couple gazed into each other's eyes. Danny took Debbie's hand and pointed skyward. "You see that star?" he asked. "That's Regulus...the brightest star in Leo, the Lion."

"Oh, sure. I see the star, but where's the lion?"

"I'll show you. See how the stars above Regulus make a backward question mark?"

"Oh, yeah. They do, don't they?"

"That's the head of the lion."

"That's so cool! I can even see his mane."

"But, there's no lion...is there?"

"No, I guess not."

"Still, you saw a lion's head, right?"

"Heck, I guess I never really noticed before."

"Well, that's how I see it!" Danny insisted. "I see it all the time. And, sometimes? I swear, it's like, like...I can see tomorrow!"

"Geez, that's _really_ freaky..." Debbie gazed skywards once more, trying to forget those prophetic words. "Ah, a shooting star!"

"Make a wish, Debbie."

The girl closed her eyes and squeezed both fists. "I wish..."

"What'd you wish for?"

"If I tell you, it won't come true, silly."

"Will you tell me if it does come true?"

"Oh, you'll know, all right." The star-struck girl gazed into Danny's eyes. Unabashed, their lips gravitated towards each other. They hugged, tumbling onto the damp grass. "I think my wish just came true!" Debbie smiled.

"Aw-woo! Woof! Woof! Woof!"

"I think Misty doesn't like being tied up for so long."

"Ignore her," Debbie urged, kissing Danny's cheek.

"Woo-woo-woo! Woof! Woof!"

"Maybe I can calm her down..."

The girl bit her lip. "Danny, I have a feeling you should just let her be."

"It'll be fine. I'll be right back, I promise." The determined boy took to his feet. He strolled towards Misty, talking to her the whole time. "What's the matter, girl?" Danny approached, unafraid. "Ya lonely?"

Misty snarled with a deep- throated growl. She fired two solo warning barks and stopped wagging her tail.

"It's ok, girl." Danny assured, invading the dog's territory.

Perhaps Misty was over-excited or spooked by a passing shadow. Whatever the reason, Misty lunged at Danny, biting his cheek where Debbie's kiss had lingered. The wounded soldier fell to the ground, screaming. He stumbled to the picnic table where Debbie's parents were chatting.

" _Owwwwwwwwwwww!_ " Danny wailed. "She bit me! She bit me!"

"Looks bad, George. He may need stitches."

"This would happen now." Mr. String tossed his hands in the air. "His parents will be here soon!"

Debbie rushed to his side. "Danny, are you ok?"

"What happened?" Mitchell came to investigate. Vinnie peered over his friend's shoulder.

"Misty bit Danny," Mr. Strong explained.

"I thought she understood..."

"That's not like her," Mitchell insisted, approaching the table. "She's never bitten anyone."

"She's angry with me," Danny sulked. "She's jealous..."

"Silly boy!" Debbie laughed. "How can Misty _possibly_ be jealous?"

" _Noooooooooo!_ Not Misty!" The distraught boy shook his head. "I mean...Patti!"

# CHAPTER X

Firin' Ice

Little Danny drifted off to sleep in the comfort of his own bed, once again.

"Here, Danny!" The girl slapped her thigh. "Come on, boy!"

"Woof!" _Coming, Patti!_ Trotting on all fours, his tail fanned the air. Although Patti looked the same, Danny became Patti's pet – an Irish Setter puppy.

"That's my good boy!" she said, rubbing the dog behind the ears.

Danny sat on his haunches, panting waves of hot breath. Drooling, he placed a paw on Patti's knee.

"What's the matter, boy?" Patti wiped the slobber. "Everything will be fine. Just leave it to me." The fledging rested at Patti's feet. "Good dog! Wanna go for a walk?" Patti fastened the leash to his collar.

The young Setter cocked his head and stared into the girl's eyes. _I'll follow you anywhere, Patti..._

"We have to see the sergeant today." She stroked his thick coat. "Don't be afraid."

Danny sat up. His mouth hung open a crack – front teeth gleaming, jowls drooping. It was the best smile a dog could muster.

"Oh, look at the time! We don't want to be late." Danny obediently followed Patti on foot to an unfamiliar place. She opened a door; his curious snout gave the room the sniff test. _Click-click-click-click..._ Tantalizing aromas wafted in the air rich with popcorn and...cats? _Click-click-click-click..._ The dog paced in circles, winding the leash around his master's ankles. Patti freed herself and approached the receptionist's desk. The dog wandered the full extent of the tether, studying the room. A sign on the wall read "Sergeant Zany's Show Dogs." Patti tightened the lead and drew the dog near. Danny glanced back. Now, the sign read "No Exit!"

Frantic, the dog leapt up, nuzzling his way under the shelter of Patti's arms. His forepaws hung over the counter. "Yip. Ymm, ymm, ymm!"

"Quiet!" Patti rapped his snout and pushed the dog to the floor. "...I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

A bearded lady looked down from her post. "What's this doggie do?"

"Oh, he'll do tricks for me!"

"Better take this whip...after all, you're the boss."

"Naturally!" The ring leader preened her leotard and adjusted her top hat.

"Take center stage, Patti...right behind this door."

_Patti, wait!_ "Woooooo! Woooooo, wooooo!" _There must be some mistake!_

"Aggie, did we get a dog?" Mr. Ormont yawned, awoken from his slumber.

Mrs. Ormont squinted at the clock. "Poppycock!"

"Woof! Grrr-Wooooo! Woof, woof, woof!"

"Bless me soul! Denny..."

"Maybe he wants to go for a walk?"

"I'm a-comin', love!"

Mrs. Ormont slipped into her housecoat and rushed to find Danny – head buried under the covers, waggling backside in the air.

"Come now, Denny!" Mrs. Ormont pulled back the blankets. Danny howled all the more. "Easy, lad," Mum rubbed his back. "There, there..." But, his mother's words could not break the trance.

"It's show time!" a clown snickered from the dressing room.

Danny went into doggie shut-down. He locked his front legs, planting his rump firmly beneath him. Mum coaxed her son to lie down; Patti tugged on the leash. Danny emitted deep throated growls, glaring at Patti with head slung low.

The sergeant appeared from nowhere. "Muzzle him!"

"Let me do it, Sarge..." Patti grabbed the muzzle, jerking the leash. "Just leave everything to me." The girl choked the dog with his collar. Danny whimpered. Gasping for air, the dog succumbed to her command. The debutant slipped the muzzle over the dog's snout with ease and pulled the strap painfully taut.

"Denny, please..."

"Move it, _dog!_ " The ring leader cracked her whip. The frightened pup resisted with a snarl. "Fine! Have it your way." Patti pulled on the leash. The dog held his ground, but the waxed floor and his fatiguing muscles conspired against him. Danny slid across the frigid floor like an ice sculpture. Ultimately, Patti proved victorious in this canine tug-of-war.

Danny sprang from the covers, rolled off the bed, and flopped on his back.

"It be me. Right here, Denny." Mum held his hand. "...Beside yea!"

"I'll be right here beside you," Patti held his paw. "I promise." Tobacco breath tickled his nose.

The strong man lifted Danny onto the grooming table; Mum assisted Danny into bed. The diminutive Setter shivered against the metallic surface. Danny quaked under the blankets. Mum tousled Danny's hair; Patti stroked Danny's fur.

"...Sure hope Doc isn't wrong," Mum muttered.

"...Sure hope nothing goes wrong," Patti chuckled.

Mum tucked Danny's blankets, snug and tight; hefty belts girdled forty pounds of pooch in position. Plastic cleats zipped over nylon straps, restraining him – snug and tight.

"This one will have to be trained to cooperate." The sergeant burped an overloaded syringe before the dog's eyes. The dog collapsed. The solution burned more than the penetrating sting of the needle.

"Do it just as we practiced." The sergeant traded Patti a knife for the whip. The girl walked away, tossing the dagger over her shoulder. The knife landed within inches of Danny's heart. _You're hurting the wrong guy!_

"I _might_ return to this dog and pony show." The girl lowered a smoldering stick from her mouth and flicked it away. _Why is she leaving me?_ A watery eye peered down the muzzle and followed her off stage. _She promised she'd always be there!_

The prima donna leapt into the strong man's arms. Danny was crushed. _His eyes, Patti..._ _Look for the truth in his eyes!_ Why was the strong man's appearance so unusual? Ah! One facial feature was missing.

The strong man greeted Patti with a long kiss. Danny's mouth watered, blasted by the mysterious taste of peppermint. His tongue squeezed through the muzzle, licking the leather.

_What's that smell?_ The canine olfactory went into overdrive, sniffing the unthinkable. The dog panicked, thrashing against the restraints.

"Sarge, do you smell smoke?" the clown asked in a silly voice. The sergeant muttered something inaudible. "I say, Sarge, I distinctly smell smoke!" the clown smirked. "...Smells like cigarettes."

"Nonsense! That's not part of my act!"

"But, Sarge! Like I tell all good boys and girls, where there's smoke, there's fire!"

The mismatched couple glanced back at Danny. Something glinted in the stage lights. Mirrored lenses concealed the stranger's eyes. Wait, _wait_... _She can't see his eyes!_

Buzzing clippers drowned his thoughts. "Gee, I wonder what these do?"

The sergeant snatched the grooming sheers. "Quit clownin' around!"

When she looks into his eyes, all she sees is herself!

The clown coughed, choking on the smoke. "Say, Sarge, something's burning, I tell ya!"

"So it is, so it is. Still, the show must go on..."

Chortles of laughter enveloped the dog. _What was so amusing?_

Behind the dog's back, the funny man squirted a seltzer bottle at the flames. "Oops, that wasn't water..." the clown shrugged. "Musta been alcohol!"

_How did I get into this mess?_ Danny closed his eyes not wishing to know.

Chaos filled the grooming area. "Let's get out of here!" the sergeant panicked.

_Patti, Patti come back!_ The helpless canine was surrounded by impinging flames. Danny watched Patti and her companion walk away, hand-in-hand, laughing. _No air! There's no air!_

The two ran for safety. "Say, did you free your star performer?" the clown snickered.

_Oh, Patti! If you only knew what you've done..._ Asphyxiated, the dog fell unconscious.

"Good night, Mum." Danny nodded off. "Tell Patti to remember me."

"Aye, love," Mum kissed her son on the forehead and backed out of the bedroom. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

Little Patti's eyes popped open, spooked by primitive moans from the next room.

"Sh, you'll wake the kid!"

Deep sighs, maddening screams – a struggle! The innocent child catapulted from the comfort of her bed. Rhythmic grunts guided the concerned girl to the master bedroom.

"Mother?"

"Go back to bed!"

"Mother...are you ok?"

"Don't come in here!" a gruff voice bossed.

"Go bother your sister!" Mother demanded.

Patti opened the bedroom door a crack. She peered into the room, horrified by an attacker's silhouette. "Leave my Mommy alone!"

"Please, Patti..." her mother pleaded. "Go back to sleep!"

The frantic girl bolted to the kitchen, pushing a chair against the refrigerator. She grabbed the ice bucket from the freezer. Rattling down the hall, Patti stormed into the master bedroom, closed her eyes, and gave a hefty heave-ho. The bare man moaned like a beached whale, shocked by the ice bath.

"Patti!" Mother scrambled for cover, hiding her nakedness.

The man wrestled Miranda for the blankets. "Get lost, _stupid!_ "

_SLAP!!!_ "Don't yell at her!" Instantly, Mother turned to her daughter "My, my! Whatever were you thinking, precious?"

"He attacked you!"

"Didn't Mother ask you to go back to sleep?"

"Yes, but...hey, you're not Tim!"

" _Tim?_ " The man shot Miranda a searing glance.

"Oh, I forgot..." Patti said. "He's working late tonight."

"Randi! You swore you were done with Tim!"

Miranda causally filed her nails. "It's no big deal..."

"It is to me! What if Tim came home?"

"Well, _stupid!_ " Miranda admired her manicure. "I told you to lock the bedroom door!"

# PHASE TWO — APPERCEPTION

What you didn't know you already knew...

CHAPTER XI

Boy Blues

Greater Boston, Late 1970s:

Change is the one universal constant. The Ormonts planned to move from the city limits deep into suburbia but delayed informing their son until the last possible moment. Hostage to the Grump's agenda, the child's world spiraled out of control: Danny, the innocent bystander; his precious Debbie, collateral damage. Moving day swooped down upon Danny like a raptor plucking its prey. Caught in its clutches, the child was uprooted from his childhood home – denied the opportunity to bid farewell to his sweetheart. Love's purest recipe inscribed eternal upon his heart, yearning to be shared once more...someday.

The Ormonts settled in the neighborhood of Majestic Mews. Their son, however, crash-landed on a remote planet – his girl light years away. Could his parents even begin to relate? The clumsy pup never thought to drop the girl a line. And, why should he? Debbie was once but a heartbeat away. "Denny, quit yer mopin'," Mum insisted. "Git out and play."

"I don't have any friends here..."

"Be that as it may, they won't just appear, yea know. Go find them."

"There's no kids my age..."

"P'shah, yea be eleven soon. Time to take charge, Denny!"

"Yes, Mum..."

Fists in pockets, he moped outdoors where an older boy, maybe fifteen years old, trucked along. "Wanna play with me?" Danny called out.

"It depends," the tough looking boy responded in a gruff voice.

"Depends?...On what?"

The ruffian took strides to get right up into Danny's face. "Depends if you're man enough to be in our club," the boy grunted through gnashed teeth.

Danny was mesmerized by the boy's dark sunglasses. He wondered how the boy managed to see anything through the pitch black glass.

"Whatcha looking at, twerp? Gotta problem?"

"Who me? Oh, no. I was only... What do I have to do?"

"I'm just the recruiter. They call me Stinger."

"Recruiter?"

"Sure, our club is always looking for new _recruits_."

"I don't understand...do ya wanna to play or not?"

"Oh, we'll play all right," Stinger snorted. "First, you have to get sworn in by officers."

Danny followed the brute up the street to his house where a teenaged girl lounged in the yard. As the two approached, she sat up and pushed back her dirty blond hair that continually flopped over her face.

"Kid, meet Lynn..."

"Hi, Lynn!" Danny waved, but there was no reply. "So, uh, gee...what do you do for fun?"

"C'mere, kid," Stinger beckoned. "Lynn'll explain it to ya."

The mismatched pair eyed each other from head to toe. At six foot something, Lynn towered over the dwarf like a mighty Amazon woman.

"Hi ya, skunk," Lynn shook hands and flipped the unsuspecting boy over her shoulder. Danny dropped like a rock. Petrified, he lay on his back eyeing the sidewalk mere inches from his head. _Snakes... They never grow up; they only grow worse._ Dazed, Danny staggered to his feet and ran home crying.

"Welcome to the neighborhood, skunk!" Stinger shouted. The teens laughed as if this were entertainment. "Ha! And, I thought this was going to be a dull day."

"That was righteous." Lynn pushed wisps of hair out of her eyes. "What now?"

Her companion sported a devilish grin. "Oh, I don't know...feel like an excursion?"

"Little early, don'tcha ya think?"

"Never let your thinkin' interfere with your drinkin'."

"Peachy! But, first...I gotta circle back to Lantern Lofts and catch my shadow."

Stinger shot the girl a look of disgust. "Shadow?"

"My sister, the snitch. She blackmails me. And, if she don't tag along, she'll—"

"Sister? You ain't said nothing about no sister."

"Aw, she's not really my sister. Just a half-step or something. Got a problem with that?"

"That's cool, babe," Stinger said. "We'll catch her on the flip side..."

The hooligans moseyed down the street bound for the cul-de-sac where a ring of houses stood ever vigilant over rolling countryside. Behind these properties slept a forgotten footpath to Lantern Lofts. The shortcut shadowed a barbed wire fence beyond which unfolded the checkered quilt of Devonshire's farm. Here, shivering seed corn nervously awaited the fall harvest. Dairy cows munch on sweet clover in the pasture below.

The teens descended the path and slogged down an unwieldy bluff where monster vines mummified their prey into a cryptozoological topiary. In the gully, butterflies flitted above a wildflower-dappled meadow. The pair waded through this grassland and approached the sandy shoals of a stream.

"Get these blasted hitchhikers off me!" Stinger yelled, scratching all over.

Lynn laughed, removing the burrs. "You're such a baby..."

"I hate this nature crap." He lit a cigarette, trying to relax. "At least it gets me out from under my old lady.

"Don't ya wanna drink up those rolling wheat fields out west?" The girl picked off the last seed pods. "...Aaaah, just smell that fresh air."

Stinger blew smoke in her face. "The only grain I yearn to drink up is in my beer!"

"Ain't you Mr. Romantic." Lynn drew a bandana from her pocket and mopped the sweat from her forehead. "C'mon, loverboy..."

A fallen tree spanned the wetlands. The two crouched down and inched their way across the mossy log. Crocodile smiles formed by the jagged rocks below warned there was no room for error. They landed in a clearing sheltered by a circle of pine trees. Crossing the grove, the intruders began the uphill climb back to civilization.

Lantern Lofts was comprised of tiered rows of townhouses built into the hillside opposite Majestic Mews. Their destination in sight, the two shuffled their way across the parking lot and approached the center door in a string of uniform housing units.

_Knock! Knock! Knock!_ "Hey, Patti?" Lynn savored the final drag from her cigarette. "Get your sorry butt out here!"

"You're such a lame brain." Stinger pinched a cigarette between his lips and lit up. "Are you sure she's even home?"

"Shut up and give me a hit, huh?"

Stinger obeyed her with a groan.

"...Patti!" Lynn pounded on the door.

"Use your key!" a muffled voice replied.

"I forgot my key, so sue me!"

"Hold on, scumface!" The door opened and out stepped a stunning young girl with wavy, auburn hair that flowed off her shoulders. "What's shakin', bacon?"

"Hey, what gives?" Stinger griped. "Some kind of joke?"

"You must be looking at yourself!" Patti said.

"Damn, Lynn! She's just a stupid kid!"

"Yeah?" The tomboy made a muscle. "Wanna make something of it?"

Stinger leaned against the doorframe and scowled at Lynn. "When you said you had a sister, I thought you meant someone a little...bigger?'

"Patti's cool," Lynn said, massaging Stinger's shoulders. "Tough enough to fend for herself." The hippie barged through the door and beckoned her old man to follow. "...By the way, this is Stinger." The hood followed Lynn, trailing a cloud of smoke.

"Put out the butt!" Patti blocked his path. "Or, I'll put your butt out, ya butt head!"

"Yo, Lynn!" Stinger crushed out his cigarette. "I thought she was cool about these things."

"Relax, man. She don't want ya stinking up the place, dig?"

"What are you, her mother?"

"Might as well be. Mother sure don't look after her."

"How touching." Stinger pretended to wipe away a tear.

Patti showed her unexpected guests into the living room.

"So, uh, Sis, we was just passin' by, ya know?"

"...Naturally, Lynn had to check on the brat." Stinger collapsed on the plush sofa, resting his dusty boots on the coffee table. "Righteous place to hang!" Stinger said. He plucked a trinket off the coffee table and tossed it between his hands.

"Feet on floor, monkeyboy!" Patti snagged the bauble in mid-air and returned it to its proper place. "And, keep your paws to yourself!"

"Fiery little snot, ain't she?" Stinger said, removing his feet. "So, like, where's your keeper?...Your old lady?"

"Oh, Mother's out....Wanna party?"

"Actually, we're taking an excursion," Lynn winked to Patti. "Ya interested?"

"The grove? Heavy! Just let me _borrow_ some beer..."

"You told her about the grove? That was supposed to be _our_ secret."

"Stinger, the only secret we share is why you're so stupid."

"Get a job, Lynn."

"We're out of beer," Patti called from the galley kitchen.

"Mother hides her drags in the cookie jar," Lynn called "...Just don't tell 'cause she don't think I know."

"Found 'em, but..." Patti scoured the pantry for snacks. "Won't she notice?"

"Neah, she'll never even miss 'em," Lynn said, hopping onto a stool at the island counter. "She forgets how much was there."

The youngster spread her finds across the counter, and Lynn swept the booty into her knapsack. "Fire in the hole!" the little one cried. "Move out!" The posse slipped into the street trailed by Patti. "Can't be too careful," she laughed, double locking the door.

"I doubt you have to worry about anyone stealin' anything," Lynn smiled.

"Let me get Reb...give me a minute."

"Aw, c'mon, let's split already. Christ, what'd ya sucker me into here, Lynn?"

The spunky child brandished a fist under the punk's nose. "Shut your trap, ya sap!"

"Oh, I am sooo scared..." Stinger pushed her fist away. "Scared you'll hurt yourself."

Ignoring his remark, Patti scampered down the sidewalk and disappeared around the corner.

The minutes slowly passed. Stinger took the opportunity to light up having been cheated out of the last cigarette.

After a moment, Patti returned with a boy in tow. "Well, I found him!"

Stinger's cigarette nearly fell out of his mouth. "Dressed like that?" He propped his sunglasses atop his head and rubbed his eyes. "You couldn't miss him!"

The pencil-thin child donned a jolly roger muscle shirt (minus the muscles), argyle shorts, mismatched socks, and neon high-tops. With slight of hand, he flipped off his mirrored sunglasses and struck a debonair pose.

"For you to envy...OW!" The boy twirled his shades around one finger, gazed into the mirrored lenses, and patted his hair. "PURRRR-fect!"

"Don't flatter yourself, Skippy."

"Name's Reb."

"Whatever..."

"Et-hem..." Lynn coughed. "Beer's getting warm."

"Get a job, girl!" Stinger circled the boy, staring in disbelief. "So, this is the infamous Reb?"

"Heard of me, huh?" The child pumped his arms in the air. "Well, I'm even more awesome in person!"

"Yo, Stinger...beer?"

"Christ, Lynn, I heard ya the first time!"

"Betcha I'm all Patti talks about." Reb puffed out his chest and strutted like a peacock.

"Naturally... Why, runt, you're famous. The talk of the town!"

"That's what I'm sayin'! High five!" The two boys slapped hands overhead. "So, what's the word, my man?"

"The word is _idiot_ , as in village idiot!" The ruffians erupted into laughter. Even Patti snorted, failing to keep a straight face.

Reb remained unfazed. "Don't be so hard on yourself!"

"C'mon, dudes!" Lynn protested. "I hate warm beer..."

Stinger shoved Reb to the ground. "Watch your step, _dud!_ "

"That's _Super Stud_ to you!" The boy bounced to his feet and shadowboxed around an invisible ring. "...And, don't you forget it!"

"You're a legend in your own mind..."

"That punk's just lucky," Reb said, dusting himself off. "I coulda really hurt him, ya know."

Patti shook her head, incredulously. Deep down, she knew Reb's bravado was paper thin. But, he had to learn things the hard way. The stupid genius could have made friends rather easily, except for one big problem – his mouth. It was just big enough to insert his foot. This annoyed her to no end; yet, she would always come to his defense. Patti tried to educate the child, but he was free-spirited and bullheaded – like herself.

Stinger trotted across the parking lot and slipped into the brush.

Lynn placed a consoling hand on Patti's shoulder. "What's wrong, Sis?"

"Nothing..."

"Don't let Reb get to you."

"Reb? It's Stinger that's the problem."

"Yeah, well...Reb ain't no picnic, either."

"Move it, turkeys!" Stinger's voice ripped the air.

Patti sucked the fresh smoke down to a smoldering nub like an old pro. The stragglers followed their fearless leader, disappearing down the familiar trail. A billowing, gray cloud lingered in their wake. Lynn dodged the underbrush and caught up with Stinger. Patti and Reb brought up the rear. Walking hand in hand, they refused to rush.

"Keep up, campers!" Stinger spit on the ground. "This ain't no nature walk..."

Patti played the peacemaker. "Say, Reb brought some Old Grannie whiskey."

"Ha! I thought he hadn't been weaned off milk."

"Don't start, Stinger..."

"Get a life, Lynn!"

"...And, some lifesaving schnapps," Reb added, ignoring Stinger's dig.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Patti asked, puzzled.

"Think about it, people! It's pep-per-mint...it cleanses the palate all minty fresh."

"See, Lynn? My boy's using his head for something more than a hat rack."

Stinger was not impressed. "You're all lightweights!" he cried, rolling his eyes. "That's the oldest trick in the book."

The gang proceeded in silence; a soft jingle harmonized with their footsteps.

"Reb, why's your wallet on a chain?" Patti griped. "You know you're always broke."

"Sure, but I don't have to announce it to the world!"

"You got as much dollars as common sense."

"It's a start. Heck, if I'm gonna dream, why not dream big?"

"Better put your mirror on that chain," the young girl laughed. "It's more valuable!"

"Don't laugh, squirt. One day, he'll be slappin' those chains on you."

"Newsflash, mister..." Patti poked Stinger in the ribs. "Ain't no one's tyin' me down! It's gonna be my way or the highway."

"Never say never, Sis."

"I'm tellin' ya, I'm gonna lose it, Lynn! This excursion's just a scouting outing!"

"Patience, deary. We're almost at the grove."

"Break out the booze already!"

"Stinger, you're the only turd I know who needs a damn drink on the way to get a drink!"

The lush dragged his sleeve across his face. "You callin' me a turd, pretty boy?"

Patti guzzled down a beer. "Your name's Stinker, ain't it?" The words rolled off her rapier tongue as smooth as silk.

"Don't defend him!" Stinger swung around and caught the child in his chilling glare. "You hot for that maggot?"

"Maybe, ya turd." The girl tossed her beau a beer. "What's it to ya?"

"Then, why you holdin' his hand all the time? 'Fraid it's gonna fall off?"

Patti's face blew up like a puffer fish. "Well, I _am_ a lady!"

"Don't know nothin' about that," Stinger said. "Lady, chick, old bag – same thing."

"Mother says it's only proper for a gentleman to hold a lady's hand," Patti sneered.

"Believe me..." The brute smacked Reb's forehead. "He's no gentleman!"

The insulted boy popped open a beer in Stinger's face, showering him in suds. "Think you're funny, peewee?" Stinger flicked open a knife, brandishing it in Reb's face.

"Stop it!" Patti shrieked, stepping between the rivals. "Put that away immediately!"

"C'mon, Stinger..." Lynn talked her main squeeze down to a simmer. "Calm down. Keep it cool."

Reluctantly, Stinger concealed the weapon. He polished off the whiskey and stole behind a tree to relieve himself.

"I want to thank you for stopping me, Patti," Reb said, holding her around the waist. "I didn't want to have to hurt him."

The girl gagged, rejecting his advances. "Give it a rest, will ya Reb?" The joker stole a kiss, and Patti slapped his face. "You're _not_ my hero."

"You think you're _sooo_ perfect, don'tcha?" Reb charged, rubbing his cheek. "Well, I got news for you, missy..."

"Everyone ready?" Stinger asked, returning from his nature walk.

"Say, where'd you come from, Houdini?"

"I went to write my name in the dirt. That is, if that's ok."

"Hmm, let's see..." Reb taunted. "Then, your name must be... _mud!_ "

Stinger lunged at Reb, but Lynn embraced the madman with all the strength she could muster. "Let it go, Stinger..."

"One more slip-up," Stinger poked Reb in the shoulder, "and you're dead meat!"

Reb blew the bully a kiss. "Ooh, I'm quaking in my boots, big boy."

Patti blocked the two rivals like a referee at a boxing match. "Stop it, Reb! I swear, you're acting like a real ass."

"Who's acting? He's a natural."

"That's it." Reb yelled, swinging back around. "You asked for it!"

"Can you _children_ pretend to get along?" Patti asked.

Lynn sprang into action. "Enough! I didn't come here to fight. Next one who speaks answers to me." The teen swung the backpack over her shoulder. "Move out...now!"

The pig-headed dolts glowered at each other, breathing fire. Their chests heaved for air. Reb took a stride toward his adversary. Stinger crushed his empty beer can under Reb's nose.

"It's cool, bud," Lynn slapped her guy on the back and rubbed his shoulders. "Everything's cool."

Stinger scowled at her. Lighting a cigarette, he chucked the can in disgust. The ruffians disappeared under the Berkshire canopy and glided over a gilded carpet of fallen pine needles. At last, they had arrived. Lynn lowered her satchel and dumped goodies like a Halloween bounty. The insatiable savages clawed at the loot like pirates. After the decadent feast, the gang rested in the shade amongst the strewn empties.

A cool breeze tickled the pines; the Holsteins lowed in the distance.

"Sh! Here that?" Stinger hopped up on the log and cupped his hand to his ear. "...Reb's love call." Reb growled at the chuckling crowd.

"Cows are stupid animals," Patti remarked, nursing a brew. "You lead, they'll follow. Too bad they're corralled."

"Pity. They ain't got no place to go." Lynn frowned.

"Neither do we," Stinger whispered with a bowed head. Repeatedly flipping his knife open and shut, a wicked grin stole across his face. "Bet I could cut the barbed wire..."

"Say, that'd solve both our problems," Patti added. "Let's do it!"

" _Rrrright_ , pea brain." The giantess knocked on Stinger's forehead. "How ya gonna cut the wires?"

"Actually..." Stinger held up his jackknife. "With this."

"You can't be serious. The blade's too dull...like you."

"Love ya, too, Lynn."

Itching for excitement, the gang clambered across the log and parted the tall grasses, blazing a trail to their destination. The brawny girl tugged on the wire fencing, testing its strength.

"Like I said, it'll take more than a pocket knife to cut these strands."

"That's where you're wrong, buttercup. The blade's notched at the base...see? Simply insert wire and squeeze." Stinger offered his knife to the youngest in the pack. "Care to do the honors, Patti? After all, it was your idea."

The girl shrunk back, shaking her head in protest. "Oh, no...not me! Only someone really big and strong could do that."

"Let a real man handle this." Reb flexed his muscles and grabbed for the cutting tool.

Stinger snatched the knife away. "Lucky I'm here..." Three little snaps, and the barbed wire strand trio recoiled against the opposite fence post with a twang.

Lynn whipped around and delivered a hook kick, knocking down the feeble fencepost with her boot heel. "Well, duuh!" she sneered at the puzzled crowd. "You want it to look like an accident, don'tcha?"

One hungry heifer nosed her way out of the pen, and the rest of the herd followed.

"Let the games begin," Patti declared, watching the cows disappear over the hill.

* * *

Danny spent that wretched afternoon in the basement, cowering from his neighborly welcome. Overhead, Mother prepared some culinary delight choreographed to the clamor of crockery. If only he could escape to the safety of his bedroom – free from maternal interrogation. That was a pipe dream. The boy dried his eyes and, mustering courage, emerged into the kitchen.

"Aye, there yea be, Denny!" Mum said in surprise. "Why, I didn't hear yea enter."

There came no reply.

"Back so soon?"

"Yes, Mum..."

"Be a-makin' some friends, did yea now?"

"Sure..." Danny sighed, rolling his eyes. "I made some all right."

"Didn't I tell yea? And, yea be makin' even more pals in school..."

"I guess..." Danny strolled into the living room.

"Yea be growin' up so fast," Mum remarked. "Me wee one's a-startin' sixth grade!"

"Mum! There's a cow on our front lawn!"

"Oh, Denny, always the joker..."

"No, I'm serious!" Danny stared out the front window in shock.

"Jist like yer father," Mum laughed until she wheezed. "Git away wit yea! Stop it, now!"

"Look!"

Mum rushed to the window and cow stared straight back at her.

"Be still me heart!" Mum cried. "What the Bejeebers do yea suppose...?" Mum paraded out the front door for a better view.

Three cows grazed in the yard. Another two foraged next door. All in all, thirty fugitives left Devonshire's farm seeking greener pastures – the lavish lawns lining the cul de sac.

"Shoo!" Mum shouted. "Go on, git! Off wit yea, now!"

" _Mooooooh! Mooooooh!_ "

"Oh, fir the love of...they be a-eatin' me ornamentals! Back in the house, Denny!" Mum lifted the receiver to her ear. "Right time we call the authorities... Hullo? Aye, that's correct..." Mum telephoned the local barracks. "...Sakes, right as rain, I'm forthright serious!" Mum insisted. "Cows! All over creation!"

Danny kept a watchful eye on the situation while Mum persuaded the officer on the phone. A pick-up full of men drove down the street. Danny watched the hired hands and their canine companions steer the cows back to the pasture through some bovine choreography.

Mum hung up the phone. "They'll be a-sending' round the authorities jist as sure as—"

"Too late!" Danny declared from his post at the living room window.

"What?" Mum glanced over her son's shoulder in time to witness the last of the herd head down the hill and into the field. "There's poop all over the yard! Heavens! Now, who yea suppose'll be a-pickin' it up?"

Mum stared down at her son. Danny recognized that look in his mother's eye. It was a certain look that meant she needed a favor. And, a favor to Mum really meant she had a chore for him. Danny would have done just about anything for Mum. But, alarm bells sounded in his brain watching the wheels turn in his Mum's head. He had to bail out of this one, and fast.

"I hear manure's good for the soil..."

"Git yer mates to help."

"You mean..." Danny swallowed hard, removing the lump in his throat. "My _new_ friends?"

"Why, of course, lad! Who else?"

"Uh, Mum?" Danny paced the floor. "How soon until school starts?"

# CHAPTER XII

School Daze

The first Tuesday in September marked the start of school. In preparation, Danny launched the Great "Anti-Academic" War of 1978. The historic log reads:

Operation Sabotage: Risk level? High. Objective? The evil schedule. Mission? Perilous night mission...penetrate enemy territory...slip into Able Baker Charlie's kitchen. Seize family calendar...flip back one month...annex days into August. Result? Today is now August 33rd. Mission accomplished!

Operation Blackout: Risk level? Looney. Objective? Communications. Mission?

No news, in or out (mostly in). Engage stealth mode...belly crawl...blend with the furniture...camouflage into shrubs. Censor mail...mutilate newspapers...bury "back-to-school" circulars...squelch "back-to-school" signals (TV and radio), kill power if necessary. Result? Radio silence. Mission accomplished!

Operation Cutoff: Risk level? Outta sight! Objective? Cooperation. Mission? Close borders...shutdown the annual "fitting of new school clothes" parade...cut relations with enemy forces. Special instructions? Hazardous duty pay authorized...excessive force authorized...take no prisoners. Calculated risks? Hunger strike...solitary confinement... torture...all perfectly acceptable. Compromised information? Just name, rank, and serial number. Damage Report? A few lost meals...and some privileges. Result? A truce – clothes shopping optional. Mission accomplished...kinda!

Undermined by seditious lies, Danny could not refute Persephone's departure. Oh, her shifty rabble-rousers duped people with cooler days and changing leaves. Alas, the frosty handwriting was on the windows. Fun was fleeting south for the winter on gossamer wings. Danny could no longer live in denial; his endless summer campaign failed. The first day of school had arrived.

The prisoner dragged his feet along death row's sidewalk, unescorted: no family, no clergy, no last-minute Gubernatorial reprieve. Chirpy crickets serenaded the convict, taunting him every step of the way. Annoyed, he climbed the concrete path with a slope as insurmountable as his schoolboy blues. Mourning doves offered their condolences, and withering foliage drooped in sympathy. It seemed Mother Nature was equally depressed by the approaching fall. Couldn't he have just remained in bed?

Danny reached the summit of his street and glanced back. In the distance, Lantern Lofts towered over the wooded ridge; its coppery forest speckled in an evergreen patina. The view had appeal if one must greet the day. Then, his woeful eyes glanced homeward, but home disappeared from view. There was no turning back now.

The serf resumed his quest. Lonely Luna skulked below the rooftops; her nocturnal sanctuary but a sun-bleached memory. Sol welcomed the boy, resting a warm hand upon his back. Even the old hothead himself had mellowed in autumnal decline.

Doomed, Danny was transported to a Strong family barbeque. Debbie and he were catching fireflies while Misty pranced at their heels. The boy yearned for those simpler times.

_Whatever happened to that birdie t-shirt?_ He hadn't seen his prized shirt since the move. Like those glorious summers with Debbie, perhaps it, too, was lost forever. Only the smoldering embers of burning memories remained.

The powerless sun slunk into a cloudbank, ashamed; a shadowy veil swept the landscape. The air turned colder now, snapping Danny from his reverie. The crisp air breathed inspiration into the downtrodden child. He raced to the schoolyard. His heart leapt into his throat. The prattle of a mass gathering grew louder. He tingled with unfettered bliss. _Someone anticipated my arrival!_

Bubbles tickled his tummy, unclenching the knots. Curiosity piqued, the boy tore down the dirt path leading to the school grounds. Now, the chatter of children stole the air like a flock of cackling crows. Danny's heart pounded in syncopation. Longing to fly, he sprinted with unbridled delight from the ball fields to the playground. He shivered with anticipation. Yes, he sensed it!

He closed in on his target, rocketing along the school perimeter where children awaited admittance outside their respective classrooms. Danny pushed through mobs of youngsters; their shocked faces but a blur.

Had I been here before?

He stomped around the corner. A sea of scornful eyes held him powerless. Alas, there was no one there to meet him–not one familiar face. Danny gawked at the strangers, paralyzed by those new school jitters. He sputtered, trying to catch his breath.

Why, oh why, did I rush to come to this godforsaken place?

The embarrassed outcast slithered to the rear, and his classmates returned to their affairs. Danny was surprised to discover his classmates divided amongst two lines – one for girls and one for boys. This was foreign to him, but there they obediently stood like sentinels, anticipating the bell. Enveloped in the maelstrom of jabber, he stood in silence holding his backpack in one hand and his lunch in the other. As the effervescent children recounted their summer adventures, he studied their cheerful faces.

"Whatcha lookin' at, punk?" snickered a boy with feathery, black hair.

"Who?...Me?" Danny was flabbergasted. "Nothing."

"Then, go stare in the mirror."

Danny's ears reddened. He shied away only to be jostled to the ground – blindsided by two jouncing hooligans. The school, disturbed from its summer slumber, popped open one Venetian eyelid. A disparaging finger tapped upon the window in vain. A haggard face impaled the darkened interior and clung to the glass like a hideous moth. The roughhousing persisted under surveillance. Danny staggered to his feet when the classroom door burst open. A stout lady with fiery eyes arrived on the scene.

"Stop it, you three!" Her crotchety voice scolded. Immediately, the horseplay ceased. Paying the woman no mind, Danny unfurled his mussed outfit and straightened his disheveled hair. Not a moment too soon, the bell rang, and the children rushed the portal. The instructor blocked the entrance and cleared her throat in disgust.

"Ladies first!" she scolded, holding the door for the young ladies. The boys grumbled their protests until the last girl flounced into the classroom. "Any day now...gentlemen!"

"Just a minute...you there!" Danny's hunched form challenged the woman's authority. "Look alive!"

Obediently, Danny neglected his untied shoe. The conspicuous boy turned tail to join the line; consequently, the line had joined him. His jaw dropped in horror. Duped by his peers, he was thrust to the forefront. Behind him stood the mischievous pair, the feather-haired boy, and a score of nameless faces all awaiting his first move.

"Don't dawdle!" The teacher propped the door open, sporting a menacing grin.

The fretful leader inched forward, uncertain why he deserved this dubious honor. The group approached the stoop when, again, the woman obstructed the entrance. Trapped, the boys wriggled like flies caught in the old woman's web. They could neither advance nor retreat nor dodge her dissecting glare. Like generations before, yet another class had fallen victim to her clandestine initiation: the ultimate baptism by fire.

"I am the boss, lest you forget!" the teacher hissed. "Do I make myself clear?" One by one, her high-spirited minions buckled under her weighty stare. "LEST YOU FORGET!!!" She groped her prey with the evil eye. Branded by her infernal words, the rites of passage concluded.

"Not so fast!" she snapped. "As for you two..."

Danny and Andy did a double-take. "W-w-what did we do?" the duo protested.

"Back of the line!" The woman flicked her wrist. "Go on, you two!"

"Who two? Me and him?" two others griped. "How 'bout them two?"

"Us two!?!" another pair shrieked. "What about those two?" Flying accusations blossomed into a game of tattle-tag:

"Who two?"

"Us two!?! And, them two?"

"No! not us two!...Maybe those two?"

"Who two? Us two?...too?"

"She means them two!"

"Not us two, too?...right?"

" _QUY-IET!!!!!_ " The woman's thunderous echo scared a distant flock of birds into flight. "This is no place for tomfoolery!"

"Glad ole Tom's absent today..." Danny snickered.

His classmates giggled, but the teacher was fuming.

"Lest _you_ forget!" Without warning, she snagged the instigator's wrist and forcibly escorted him to the rear of the line. Danny had to trot beside his accuser to avoid being dragged. Stomping back to her post, she flung open the door in a huff and stepped inside.

"Today, gentleman!" The black widow held the door half-cocked. The precession stalked forward, but her rotund waist further constricted the gap. "Dare to cross my stoop?" she cackled. "But, don't _dare_ stoop to crossing me!" She took a miserly, quarter step back and permitted the broken-spirited boys to squeeze through.

At last, it was Danny's turn. "Dare I enter your parlor?" he smirked, triumphantly crossing the threshold.

"There she blows!" the irritated woman bellowed.

"What was it?" The hapless boy glowered at the great outdoors. "Whatcha see?"

"Your freedom!" Inexplicably, the teacher's arm slipped, and the prison door slammed Danny's behind. Sixth grade had officially begun.

Reading Class:

A potpourri of crayons, paints, and clay permeated the room. Danny found the sweet perfume anaesthetizing. The band of boys joined the giddy girls pressed against the walls.

"Two lines!" The school marm clapped her hands, and the students jumped at her command. "Silently, people!" She lectured with pointed finger. "There's no need for noise." A hush fell across the room as the last students straggled into their respective queues.

Danny studied her pinched-up face. Wearing a permafrost frown, the anxious lady existed in constant state of constipation. _Perhaps if she loosened her tight bun,_ Danny thought, _she just might smile._

"All right, class," the teacher announced. "You may choose your seats." But, the instant the children broke formation, the teacher called them back. "Wait a minute!" The children stood at attention. "Ladies first!"

A scant six desks were encircled by four chairs each. The orderly array was meticulously aligned with the tile floor. The children raced to be seated like contestants in a bizarre game of musical chairs. Danny attempted to nab the last seat at a front table, but someone arrived one step ahead. Finally–a lucky break!...An opening at an adjacent table.

"You can't sit here!" whined a snooty voice. "This table's reserved for _my_ friends."

Danny heeded the advice and bounced from table to table seeking refuge. Being the new kid, he found it hard to make friends. Apparently, his classmates had known each other from last year. By process of elimination, he found himself standing next to an empty seat at the very last table tucked in the far corner of the classroom.

"Don't even think about it!" growled a familiar voice. It was that same boy with the

feathery, black hair.

"HE can _TOO_ sit here if HE likes!" A voice piped up from across the table.

"No, maybe I shouldn't..."

"Ha! Ain't that the truth!"

"Just ignore him," the advocate smiled beneath waves of sandy hair. "Everyone else

does."

"Are you sure it's ok?"

"Sure, take a load off. My name's Andy. What's yours?"

"Mud!" the bully grunted.

"Ok, class..." The teacher demanded quiet. Still, a low murmur buzzed in her ears. "Only one of us is going to talk," she scolded. "And, that's me!" The room fell silent. "I am Mrs. Fishbine, and I will be your teacher for reading and language."

"Hello, Mrs. Fishbine..." the students whined.

"Some say I am tough," she began in a harsh voice. "Tough, perhaps...yet fair." The children groaned in disgust. "Now, first thing each morning, you will be calling this room home."

Danny head-butted the desk. "I _WON'T_ survive the year..."

"These will be your assigned seats," she continued. "State your name as I point to you." Heads turned from child to child, exchanging nervous glances. "We'll start in the back," she directed. "You there, please state your name."

"Danny Ormont."

"Danny?" the teacher sneered. "That will never do. Try again."

"Danny. My name is Danny Ormont."

"I want your given name...understand?"

"Sure, I understand. And, the name I'm giving you is Danny!"

"Never mind." Unamused, the teacher pointed to her subsequent victim. "Next?

...Your Name?"

"Andy."

"Andy?...Andy what?"

"And-dee band played on!"

The class laughed at his insolent remark.

"That's enough!" The teacher slammed the desk, and her scholars jumped. "Think you're funny, Drew?"

"Drew–er!"

"Drew?...Or, Andrew?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes...ma'am?"

"You're trying my patience!...Drew or Andrew?"

"That's it!"

"What's it?"

"My name."

"What name?"

"Drewer, Andrew!"

"I asked you first!" the teacher stomped her foot. "Drew or Andrew?"

"Exactly!"

"What?"

"I just told you."

"But, you haven't said anything!" the woman insisted. "Drew or Andrew?"

"Bingo!" Andy cheered. "You got it!"

"Got what?"

"My name! My whole name!"

"I want your first name."

"Then, stop calling my last name first!"

"OK! So, what is your first name?"

"No, it's not."

"What's not?"

"Correct."

"Andre Dewer!" the teacher fumbled. "Andraw Dier! Andew Drier!"

The class burst into hysterics.

"Drewer," the child corrected. "D-R-E..."

"Dewer, Drier – whatever!" the woman barked. "Tell me your first name!"

"Oh, Andy's fine by me..."

"I simply will not tolerate nicknames! Is that perfectly clear, class?" Too afraid to speak, the group nodded in silence.

"Yes, Mrs. Fishbone," Andy retorted.

"FISHBINE!!! It's Mrs. Fishbine!"

Danny muttered something under his breath.

"I heard that!" the teacher snapped. "Care to repeat it?"

Andy was stoked. "I thought you heard him."

"Never you mind," she hollered. "...Out with it Daniel."

"Bone, bine – whatever..." Danny muttered, staring at the floor.

"I'm warning both of you," the lady scolded. "You're skating on thin ice."

The teacher proceeded to take attendance competing against a ubiquitous undertone.

"Quiet, _boys!_ " She blindly accused with her nose wedged in her roll book. "Certainly my girls would never be so rude." The boys sulked under the blanket of false accusation. The room was a morgue. The teacher completed her task serenaded by the faint hum of the fluorescent lights.

"After today's follies," Mrs. Fishbine sneered. "I expect all you boys to—"

"Are they ready to go?" asked a man, stepping into the room.

"Don't you knock?" The stranger paid her no mind.

The man consulted his watch. "You're running late."

"Lucky for these boys." She pointed to the back corner. "Lest they—"

" _Really???_ " Danny blurted. "You mean, we don't have to spend the day with you?"

"Don't sound so relieved!" Mrs. Fishbine shooed the children like flies. "Class dismissed."

"Quick!" Andy instructed, grabbing his friend's arm. "Follow me!"

"Why the rush? I thought..."

"Tomorrow will be a full period," she warned as the students rose. "Be prepared to work!" But, her ominous words were lost in a symphony of sliding chairs.

Hugging the wall, the two misfits skirted the masses to be first in line. The others promptly fell into formation, segregated by gender.

"Gotta beat the heat. Ole Fishfry's gonna blow, and I..."

"Just a minute, _gentlemen!_ " Mrs. Fishbine's chilling words froze the boys in their tracks.

"Wow..." Danny gasped, exchanging glances with Andy.

"...See? Told ya!"

"Is something the matter, Edna?"

"You should know better than to question me, Stanley."

"Don't beat around the bush." The man was in no mood for guessing games. "If you have something to say, say it!"

"These fine sirs have _all_ forgotten something important!"

"Oh?" the man wondered, glancing around the room. "Their jackets?"

"No...their _manners!_ " the prudish lady barked. "Ladies first!" Mrs. Fishbine demanded the boys take their seats while waving the girls toward the door. An excruciating minute passed in silence until the boys were permitted to follow suit. Watching her prisoners form a line parallel to their female classmates, Mrs. Fishbine relegated command to her counterpart.

"They'll never fit through the doorway like that, Edna," the man sighed. "C'mon, single file, please..." The man directed the students to come forward, alternating rows in boy-girl fashion as they passed over the threshold. Once out in the hallway, he escorted the children to the safety of his class.

Science Class:

The children entered the room and plastered their backs the wall. Danny was overcome by a sense of solace welcomed by a fountainhead of warmth.

"I am Mr. Foster," a soft voice said. "Please, take any seat you like." The cadets remained at attention awaiting further instruction. Mr. Foster was perplexed. "Please...I won't bite," he smiled. "I promise."

One boy spoke on behalf of the rest. "Maybe you'd like the girls to go first?"

"There's no favoritism here," Mr. Foster assured. "You are all equal."

Reluctantly, the students dispersed. Friends flocked to adjacent seats and wiggled behind desks arranged in a large horseshoe configuration. Danny and Andy found neighboring chairs along the back wall followed by the feather-haired boy. The bully positioned himself one seat over from the new kid forging a no man's land between the two. Instantly, all the seats were occupied except for that hot seat. The horseshoe appeared to be in desperate need of dental work with its broken smile split in the middle.

"I confess," the man said. "It may take me awhile to learn your names." At his cue, the children introduced themselves while the teacher took roll.

"We'll be exploring math and science together..." Mr. Foster began. The students detected a high degree of sincerity in his words. He had the patience of all the saints put together. Unlike any teacher before, Mr. Foster addressed the children as if they were his peers. He was neither condescending nor crass. Soon, the class was hypnotized by his melodic cadence.

"...So, this year, we've decided to try something new," Mr. Foster concluded. "Often, science will be taught along with the math." Eyes popped open and jaws dropped in surprise. "Why do you think we'd do this?"

Not one hand was raised. The children were still too timid to volunteer their thoughts. As he awaited answers, the teacher studied their leery faces.

"Ok, everybody up!" Mr. Foster raised his palms, motioning for his students to rise. "C'mon, up and at 'em."

Hands caressed aching brows, furrowed in confusion. Darting eyes frantically scanned puzzled faces, but not a clue could be found.

"Make a big circle in front of the desks," Mr. Foster directed. "Spread out a little...there, that's better...now be seated."

Quietly, the children did as they were told and sat crossed-legged on the floor.

"Now, that ought to help everyone relax," Mr. Foster took a seat on the floor, as well. All eyes were glued upon the teacher wondering what he might do next. "Let me share a little secret," Mr. Foster hinted. "Everyone huddle up."

The students squeezed together, shoulder to shoulder, until it hurt. Rising upon their knees, the girls and boys leaned inward, gravitating toward their teacher.

"Sharing is the secret to good grades," Mr. Foster whispered. "Class participation is critical." The students hung on his every word.

"We'll be sharing ideas in open discussions," Mr. Foster continued. "So, we must not be afraid to share our thoughts." Noggins nodded like bobble-headed dolls. "Don't be afraid to make mistakes," Mr. Foster encouraged. "That is called _learning!_ " His words tickled his students' ears, and a light chuckle eased the tension. "So, why teach science and math together?" Mr. Foster repeated. "Have we gone mad?"

The class laughed freely now as protocol melted into pleasantries. Hands flew in the air. Mr. Foster pointed to the participating children one at a time.

"Because, like, in science you have to count and measure stuff?" one girl suggested.

"Good," Mr. Foster praised. "What else?"

"Maybe you're always trying to find answers?" a boy offered.

"All these are great ideas," Mr. Foster confessed. "But, there's something more."

The class was lost in thought when Danny raised his hand. "Because the math comes from the science!"

The class looked at Danny as if he had sprouted three heads.

"Well done!" Mr. Foster exclaimed. "What made you think of that?"

"Because you really can't have one without the other."

"Excellent!" The instructor smiled. "You're right on the money, Danny."

"Daniel, if you prefer."

"Which do _you_ prefer?"

"Not me. It's Mrs. Fishbine."

"Mrs. Fishbine prefers to be called Daniel?"

"No!" Danny giggled. "She doesn't care much for nicknames, and I just thought..."

"So, don't call her _Nick_ ," Mr. Foster smiled. "Besides, this isn't her class."

Danny felt the reigns of command slacken. Never had he met such an affable teacher. "You're right!" Danny flashed a bashful grin. "I'll try to remember that."

"So!" The man rubbed his hands together. "Is everyone prepared for launch?"

"Lunch?" a voice cheered.

"Launch..." Mr. Foster boasted. "The great space race blasts off tomorrow!"

"There won't be a tomorrow if Mrs. Fishbine has her way," a husky boy muttered.

"Yeah, no tomorrow..." his echo lamented.

"Why so glum? Is school really that terrible?"

"It is when we must fear the Fish."

"Mrs. Fishbine?" The man scratched his head. "How did this lady make you all so miserable?"

"All it took was one word – homeroom."

"You must be mistaken. Did she actually say that?"

"Well, no...not exactly, but that's what she meant."

The children burst into a boisterous squabble. Mr. Foster raised one finger to his lips and waited. The message was clearly received. Silence had prevailed. "Please, one at a time!" the man insisted. "I believe I was talking to... to...?"

"Barnegat, sir."

"Barnegat?"

"Yo!"

"Yes, sports fans!" his partner touted, posing his thumb like a microphone. "It's jammin' Jimmy Barnegat, defensive tackle, first string."

"Oh, I see, and you are...?"

"Thompson," he squeaked. "Billy Thompson."

"So, you like football, do you, Billy?"

"How'd you know?"

"Just a wild guess," Mr. Foster smiled. "What position do you play?"

"Safety," the boy grimaced. "...Or, water boy depending on the coach's mood."

Everyone laughed–including the teacher. "Now, as I was saying, this will be your homeroom..."

"But, Mr. Foster!" The jock raised his hand after the fact. "She did say first thing..."

"Yes, that's right...only on Tuesdays."

"Wonderful!" the sports anchor cheered. "She didn't say that!"

"Tuesdays – first period," Mr. Foster clarified. "You'll still go to her class each day."

"Darn..." Billy sighed. "I knew it was too good to be true." Barnegat shot his buddy a dirty look.

"There, that's settled."

"That may be what she meant," Barnegat doubted. "But, that's not what she said."

"Check the schedule if you don't believe me," Mr. Foster asserted.

"Schedule? Heck, I didn't even get a program...ouch!" Barnegat elbowed his friend in the ribs.

"Didn't Mrs. Fishbine provide your class schedules?"

"The warden?" the stocky one scoffed. "She gave us nothin' but heartache."

A chorus of "yups" and "uh-huhs" bubbled from the cynical crowd.

The teacher excused himself from the circle. "That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"Well, she was a little harsh on us," Barnegat explained.

"Yeah," Billy shook his head. "That ref made some bad calls..."

Barnegat cocked his elbow once more, but Thompson was quick to counter.

"I see..." The man rummaged through his files. "Ah, here they are!"

"What's this, ladies and gentlemen?" the broadcaster goaded the crowd. "Why, it's unprecedented, sports fans! He's pulling out the rule book!"

Barnegat cringed. "Off sides, Billy, off sides!" he whispered, jabbing his friend in the side.

"Here, read this," Mr. Foster declared. "Take a class schedule and pass the rest."

Wisps of surprise spread like wildfire long before the news fell in Danny's lap. The boy handed off the stack, catching snippets of an ensuing debate:...this isn't right...see for yourself...she made it pretty clear...

Danny studied the discombobulated agenda, but it defied logic. Only one thing was crystal clear. Printed on the top line was the name of the true homeroom teacher, Mr. Foster. Still, the usurper's motives puzzled Danny only half as much as this enigmatic timetable.

"There it is in print, folks..." Mr. Foster declared. "Now, what do you say?"

"Well," Billy consoled, "at least she won't get the homeroom advantage!" Barnegat grunted at his fanatical friend; the others snickered at his jock-like jargon.

The man rejoined the circle "Wanna know a secret?" Mr. Foster scooted closer, and the children did the same. "You know, you don't have to fear Mrs. Fishbine – just respect her."

Barnegat frowned. "Easy for you to say, coach."

"Not so easy. It's all give and take. How do you think I became your homeroom teacher?"

"...And, all-time Champeen!" Billy blurted into his thumb. "Three cheers for the Champ!" The class erupted into applause. The man took a bow, but the ruckus persisted. At last, the man motioned for time out. "Would the Champ care to say a few words?"

"Sure, Sport..." Mr. Foster spoke into the imaginary mic. "Just don't dump punch all over me!" Laughter rippled across the room.

The announcer shuttled the mic between host and guest. "Talk now, punch later."

"I just want to say I'm playing this game under protest."

"But, Champ, you won..."

"True, but I must get to the bottom of this." Mr. Foster consulted his watch. "I'll simply ask her at recess. Speaking of which..." The eager crowd sprang to their feet and stampeded toward the exit.

"Champ demands rematch!" Billy blurted into his thumb. "Film at eleven!"

Morning Recess:

On the teacher's cue, two lines materialized at the rear exit – one for girls and one for boys. Mr. Foster escorted his students into the schoolyard where they polarized into two main groups. The girls gravitated to the playground to gossip while the boys congregated for kickball. Danny headed toward the kickball field when he spied Andy. The free thinker daydreamed on a bench beneath a lone oak in a vast no-man's land forged between the polarized masses.

"Wanna play some kickball?" Danny took a seat beside his new found friend.

"I'm tired of kickball..."Andy sighed. "It's the same thing every year."

"Don't they play anything else?"

"No, they never grow tired of it."

"Maybe it's time someone taught them something new."

The two scratched at the dirt, mulling over this idea in silence. Nearby, Mr. Foster and Mrs. Fishbine watched over the playground like shepherds tending a flock.

"Edna, did you give my students their class schedules?" Mr. Foster asked.

"Our students, Stan, our students! Besides, dispensing of schedules is a homeroom chore."

"I see. Speaking of which, what did you happen to say about homeroom?"

"Homeroom?" She collected her thoughts. "...Oh, you mean about Tuesdays?"

"That's not what they heard."

"They weren't listening."

"So, you did explain about homeroom?"

"I said it once. Weren't _you_ listening...Stan?"

"Did you actually instruct the children to report to you each morning?"

"Had they been listening, as asked twenty times before mind you...they would have known better."

"Then, you did try telling them?"

"Honestly, why should I try if they're not going to listen?"

"I'm sure they would have listened if you honestly tried..."

The lady shrugged. "Must we quibble over such trivialities? Clearly, they were not paying attention!"

"I assure you, they would have listened...had you merely asked."

"Maybe next time they'll try listening in the first place!"

"Maybe next time you'll give them something worth listening to!"

"Unlike you, Stan, I refuse to talk if they refuse to listen."

"And, they are not going to listen if you are not going to talk!"

"But, I was talking..."

"Barking orders doesn't count, Edna. You have to talk to them, not at them."

"Don't bark at me! I'll start talking after they start listening!"

"Give 'em a break, ok?" the man offered. "Meet them halfway. Heck, you were young once...weren't you?"

"Stanley!...Bite your tongue!"

"At my old school," Danny continued. "We'd play baseball and frisbee and stuff."

"Where was that?"

"St. Swithin's School for Boys. We had to make our own fun."

"Sounds neat, but that won't work here."

"Sure it will! I bet we can come up with something."

The pals pondered such matters until their heads hurt. "That class schedule is crazy," Danny said at last. "I'll never memorize it."

"You will...in time," Andy sighed. "We always do."

"You mean, it's always so jumbled?"

"Something has to come first."

"A schedule implies order, don'tcha think?

"It has an order – random order! Don't let it bug ya." Andy felt the heat radiating from his friend's burning curiosity. "Would it help if I said science always comes first?"

"Except on Tuesdays....What's so special about Tuesdays?"

"Absolutely nothing," Andy sighed. "Nothing at all."

"Heck, at least Tuesdays-Thursdays would be routine."

"Just the luck of the draw. It's all random, I tell ya!"

"I dunno," Danny sighed. "There's a pattern in there, somewhere..."

"Honestly, Stan!" the woman huffed. "Save the pep talks for your students."

"Our students, remember Edna? You must make it happen. Take the first step."

The woman turned pale. "You're joking! Why should I make the first move?"

"Oh, I don't know...because you are their role model, perhaps?

"The tail doesn't wag the dog..."

"Bend a little, Edna, before they break."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Win their trust."

"Oh, Stanley..." the woman cackled. "Be serious!"

"I am seri— Ouch!"

"Whatever's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing..." The man held his stomach. "Just the start of another ulcer."

"Seems the same thing happened last year."

"Funny, it never happens over the summer..."

"Ha! See what all your worrying is worth?" Edna scolded. "Try following my example."

"Perish the thought..."

"Have you seen a doctor?"

"Trust me, Edna," Mr. Foster winked. "No medicine can cure what's ailing me."

"Say!" Andy was hit by a brainstorm. "Do you have a yo-yo at home?"

"Yes," Danny frowned. "...I was never any good with them."

"I'll teach you!"

"Great, but...why?"

"Just bring your yo-yo to school tomorrow," Andy cheered. "And, I'll bring mine."

"Ok...say, I'm starved. What do they serve for lunch around here, anyway?"

"Scrapple sandwiches."

"Scrapple sandwiches?" Danny was stunned. "Who's ever heard of that?"

"They'll push anything on us."

"At my old school, we ate a lot of pizza. It's just not fair..."

"What's not fair?"

"Scrapple..." Danny laughed. "How come there's scrapple, but no Santa Claus?"

"Good question! Hope you weren't planning to buy lunch..."

"Neah, I brown bagged it. I wasn't sure what to expect."

"Better get used to it," Andy sucker-punched Danny's shoulder. "Neither are we!

# CHAPTER XIII

The Girl With the Curl

That first week of school crawled at a snail's pace with the vicious homework cycle well established. Unfinished classwork spilled into homework with homework reviewed as classwork; rinse and repeat. Come Friday, the children prayed for a reprieve. Mr. Foster was kind enough to waive a weekend assignment. But, would Mrs. Fishbine have a heart?

Reading Class:

"Since it is Friday," Mrs. Fishbine began. "I thought you would all enjoy a story...if you can be quiet."

The effervescent class simmered into silence. All eyes focused on the teacher.

"Now, this story," she began, burying her face in her book, "is about a creature...an animal, actually." The woman waltzed around the room; her cadence kept pace with her steps. "...A pet, of sorts." Her heels clomped the tiles like hooves on cobblestone. "...A mouse, to be precise." Mrs. Fishbine's pilgrimage ended at the rear desk. "...A pet mouse named Daniel."

" _Daniel?_ " The woman peered down her nose at the child. "That's _your_ name, is it not?"

Some children giggled.

"Actually, I prefer..."

"Don't start!"

"If you'd only listen..."

Mrs. Fishbine cut down his protest with one razor sharp glance. "Anyway, this mouse," she continued, "was the pet of a boy named Johnny." The teacher lowered her book. "You don't have a brother by that name, do you, Daniel?" his peers chuckled.

"Nope – just me."

"Thank heaven for that!" Mrs. Fishbine poked her nose back in the book. "Now, this little mouse was very curious..." The cyclops groped the class with a suspicious eye. "He was always asking Johnny questions, like..."

"Is this a true story?" a girl whined.

"Class, do you think this story is real?"

"No, Mrs. Fishbine," the zombies droned in unison.

"Can animals talk to people?"

"No, Mrs. Fishbine..."

"And, can anyone talk to animals?"

"No..."

"Mrs. Fishbine?" Danny raised his hand. "I met a lady who can."

"Can?...Can what?"

"Talk to the birds. She told them where to build their nest."

"Is that so?"

"That's right...so they wouldn't get killed."

His classmates snickered.

"That will do, Daniel. Settle down, people..."

"You know...by the stray cats."

Heckles taunted the child. The woman stomped her foot. "I said, that's enough!"

"Of course, she had to warn the mice, too..."

Uproarious laughter rocked the room with aftershocks of hoots, whistles, and catcalls. Contorted bodies failed to stifle full-blown, belly-blasted guffaws. Sidesplitting hysterics ignited in rounds. Students, doubled over in fits of pain, busted a gut. Raspy voices pleaded for air. Hands clapped, feet stomped, eyes watered, teeth chattered, and...

_Bam! Bam! BOOM!!!_ The teacher slammed the text upon the table. The room grew deathly quiet. A bone-chilling silence gripped the children. "All right, class!" the woman wailed. "You're all punished!" The children quaked, fearing the wrath of Mrs. Fishbine. "Forget the story... You can all write sentences!"

The class groaned. "Good job, _Mouse!_ " The feather-haired bully shoved Danny out of his chair. Giggles rippled across the room.

"Daniel!" The teacher snapped, witnessing only the aftermath. "Go clean Pickles' cage!"

Pickles, the class mascot, was a white mouse. Danny approached the terrarium. The meek animal propped one foot upon the glass, gazed up at the boy, and wiggled his pink nose.

"I trust everything is under control?" a voice called from the hallway. It was Mrs. Hastings, the school principal. The woman strolled into the classroom accompanied by a child.

"Oh...no problem here," the teacher approached her guests. Danny paid the visitors no mind. He stood on his tippy-toes and removed the lid from Pickles' cage.

"Can I have everyone's attention?" Mrs. Hastings called. "I have a surprise..."

The intrigued boy scooped up the timid mouse and turned to face the principal. Zapped by lightning, his heart leapt from his chest. Danny floated on air – bewitched by this vision of loveliness standing beside the principal. Mesmerized, he drank up even her most subtle features: caramel freckles glittering upon rosy cheeks, ruby earrings bedazzling earlobes, endless auburn hair cascading off her shoulders. Danny drooled, hypnotized by a red-haired spiral formed across her forehead, curved like a sun-ripened strawberry.

The bashful girl flashed a smile. Dimples pinched her cheeks. Spellbound by her beauty, the infatuated boy lost his grip on Pickles. The confused mouse hit the ground and fumbled for freedom. The girls shrieked. The boys cheered in delight. "Look out, Mrs. Hastings!" someone shouted.

The rotund woman glanced at the savage beast and panicked. "Get that disgusting rodent back in its cage!"

"Don't worry..." Danny jolted back to reality. "Everything's under control!" Squealing girls stampeded to the back of the room, but a few brave ones joined the boys in the hunt. The trackers sprawled on the floor, swatting and grabbing for the critter. But, the mouse eluded their grubby little hands. The fantastic fur ball zigzagged like a pinball on a collision course – bouncing off everything.

"Don't hurt the poor guy!" Danny's pleas fell upon deaf ears. The children lunged and pounced in a frenzied scramble. The frightened animal bolted; tiny nails clicked upon the high-polished floor.

The class pet charged the principal with Danny in hot pursuit. The head honcho went aerial, launching herself ten feet in the air. She landed squarely atop the nearest table. The bug-eyed woman stood there frozen, clenching her chest. Her dainty companion showed no fear and allowed the little cheeser to sniff around her feet. Panting, the boy stomped on the scene apologizing profusely. But, not from any person did he beg forgiveness – only from the mouse.

The boy squatted to rescue the peeper, squeaking a friendly greeting. The rosy newcomer studied her new acquaintance with an insatiable curiosity. Danny arose – mouse in hand – pressed nose to nose with his mystery girl. They gazed into each other's eyes. Danny was paralyzed.

"Poor baby, scared to death." She stroked the rascal's creamy coat. "There, now...doesn't that feel nice?"

"I'll say. It's wonderful, Patti..." Danny gushed. "Simply wonderful..."

"H-h-h-how'd you know my name?"

"Huh? Oh, well, uhhh, you see...that is, I mean...the thing is...a little bird told me."

"You sure do a lot of conversing with the birds..." Mrs. Fishbine sneered.

The principal descended from her perch. "Do you two know each other?"

"No!" "Yes!" They shouted together.

"You're weird!" Patti declared, eyeing up her counterpart. "...But, that's ok."

The lovesick boy shied away, grinning; his ears burned beet red.

"Children, please welcome Patti Connor," the principal announced. "Patti will be joining your class."

"Hi, Patti!" the class cheered. Some whistled in approval; others applauded. Mrs. Fishbine flashed her sugary-sweet smile, embarrassed before her superior. She signaled for silence and prayed her students would pay heed.

The new girl's smile brightened the room. Enamored, Danny drowned in her brown eyes.

He squeezed Pickles, and the tiny creature squealed in protest.

"Careful!" Patti held Danny's hands in hers. "You're squishing the poor dear!"

The boy's heart melted. "Huh?"

"Daniel, show this fine lady to her seat in the back..."

"Hold her gently...like this," Patti demonstrated. "After all, she's just a boo-boo baby."

"...Daniel? Did you hear me?" The smitten boy failed to acknowledge, entranced by Patti's mystique. Was he sleepwalking? "Daniel Ormont!!!"

The jealous bully was ballistic. "Sit down, _Mouse!_ "

" _Mouse?_ " Patti giggled like a gurgling stream. "Do they really call you Mouse?"

Danny floated atop cloud nine. "You can call me whatever you wish..."

"Oh, boy!" Patti rolled her eyes. "This should be quite an interesting year."

"Oh, _yeaaaaah..._ " Danny dreamed. " _Pa-zoooooo-lute-ly!_ "

Morning Recess:

The class filed out the back door for recess. Per usual, the girls gravitated to the playground to gossip while the boys took to the kickball field. Andy and Danny accompanied the lone oak.

"That was pretty clever, Mouse," the bench keeper praised. "...Letting Pickles go."

"Gee, I-I-I didn't mean to....Say, what's with all this Mouse stuff?"

"The class bully, Mark Parks? He's harsh on everyone."

Danny lowered his head. "Tell me about it."

"Anyway, he's dubbed you _Mouse_...like in the story."

"Why?"

"Face it. Not many mice named Daniel. Besides, it fits!"

The boy eyed his friend with suspicion. "What do you mean by that?"

"Let's just say you _really_ earned your nickname."

"I don't follow..."

"We never knew Mrs. Hastings was so...athletic!" Andy smiled. "That was super cool!"

"Yeah, that was a blast, all right. That woman sure can stick a landing."

The pair laughed at the indelible image branded on their brains. "Like I always say," Danny remarked. "I don't dislike school. It's just the _principal_ of the thing!"

"Good one!" The curly haired boy patted his best buddy on the back.

"So... tell me..." Danny stared at his shoe, afraid to mention the subject. "What about—"

The shy boy bit his tongue – stricken by the image of two friends fighting over the same girl, like two chipmunks quarreling over the same nut.

"What? What were you going to say?"

"What about...oh, you know..."

"Who?"

"You know... Patti..."

"Patti? Ha! You should be telling me!"

"B-b-but, I don't know her."

"You knew her name..."

"C'mon, you musta seen her around school, haven't you?"

"Nope. Never seen her before."

Danny leered at his friend. "You mean, you don't know anything about her?...Nothing?"

"Nothing. But, you sure do. What was all that nonsense about?"

"Andy, when I heard her voice...that is, when I looked in her eyes...I mean, when she held my hand... What I'm trying to say is, well, when I first saw her..."'

"Go on..."

"Neah, you'll say it's impossible..."

"No I won't. You can trust me. Aw, c'mon! You were saying?"

"I could tell—"

"Tell what?"

"Something familiar..." Danny shivered. "I just knew, I TELL YA!"

"Knew _what?_ "

"I've seen her before! No joke, it's like, like...I've known her – my _entire_ life!"

His companion huffed, fanning off his words. "That's impossible."

"Of course, it's impossible! Don't you think I know that?" Danny grabbed his friend by the shoulders and stared straight into his eyes. "Wanna hear something a hundred times crazier?"

"You mean...there's more?"

"Can you keep a secret?"

The two boys glanced around. "Like, who am I gonna tell?" To their left, the boys engaged in kickball. To their right, girls clung to the jungle gym, sharing secrets. "I'm not exactly in-crowd material."

"That girl?...Patti? One day, I'm going to _have_ _had_ married her."

Andy keeled over, screaming in pain. "Listen to yourself, Mouse!" His companion laughed. "You mean, you might marry..."

"Shhhh! Not so loud!" Danny clamped a hand over his friend's big mouth. "Listen, will ya?" The boy freed his partner. "It _already_ happened – tomorrow!"

"Your gourd's got squashed goulash!" Andy cackled. "What in blazes are you talking about?"

Danny scowled at his friend, waiting for his squawking to cease. "Sometimes, I get these funny feelings..."

"Like, you're gonna yack chunks? Only ya can't, right?"

"Actually it's that thrill at the top of a monster coaster!"

"You're not sick, you're just crazy...crazy in love! You gotta a crush!" Andy teased. "Why, you're hooked, you lucky dog!"

"No way! It's _not_ like that. No, really, it's not....Will ya listen to me? This is big... _HUGE!_ "

"Aw, c'mon..."

"I'm tellin' ya, I know her...some things just come to me."

"You're making this stuff up!"

"I swear – it's true!" Danny slapped his side. "How else could I have known her name?"

This time, Andy was silent, reviewing the day's events. The human mop scrawled swirls in the dust. The breeze rustled the oak leaves. Danny searched the playground for Patti. The flock of girls fell all over each other, sharing the gift of gab. Nothing. At last, he glimpsed Patti standing by the playground gate. She was chatting with Cheryl, the only girl to befriend her.

Andy was the first to break the silence. "...Did your friend _really_ talk to the birds?"

"Yes..." Danny stared directly at his friend. "Yes, she did."

"Then, I believe you."

"You do?"

"Seeing is believing. Besides, you threw everyone for a loop – especially Patti!"

"Thanks for trusting me."

"Heck, what are friends for?" The two boys exchanged a hearty handshake. "Only one question remains..." Andy concluded. "Will Patti agree?"

# CHAPTER XIV

Play Ball!

After school, Danny floated home in a fog. Patti was gorgeous – even prettier than he had dreamed. He pictured her radiant face, and his heart skyrocketed.

"What do these recurring dreams mean?" he asked his conscience.

His psyche took this under serious consideration. "Nothing," Me riddled. "...And, everything."

"It's telling me something, but what?" Danny wrestled with the few clues time had provided. "Life wants us to be together..." the boy muttered. "I can feel it deep inside."

His conscience countered. "Maybe Andy's right. It's just a crush," Me said. "Happens to everyone..."

"No way! This is BIG! We got...electricity! I'm sure she felt it, too!"

"I bet a lot of boys feel the same."

"Ya think?...Just how many crushes walk straight out of _their_ dreams?"

His conscience conceded. "Therefore, it _must_ be serendipity," Me declared. "Let your sails catch the wind!"

"Huh?"

"You must follow this dream wherever it takes you," Me explained. "Don't let her go."

"I gotta talk to her, first." Arriving home, Danny fished the key from his pocket and unlocked the side door. "What's the use? She'll think I'm a total idiot, a squirming jellyfish." Danny sulked, shrugging off his backpack. "But, if I lose her, I'll be a raging jealous fish." He snitched some cookies from the pantry. "Maybe I should free Pickles again..."

Danny slipped into the basement, grabbing a bat and a few baseballs. He once noticed how the best thoughts came to a distracted mind, and batting practice seemed like the perfect choice. Popping into the backyard, Danny dropped the baseballs in the grass – all except one. He tossed the ball in the air, and _wham!_ He crushed it. The ball landed in the neighbor's yard. Nailing three more line drives in similar fungo style, the pleased child dropped the bat to retrieve his hits when Stinger approached.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Nothing. Just givin' it the ole pepper..."

"Wanna play ball?"

"No thanks..." Once again, Danny found himself staring into those black tinted sunglasses

"Aw, let me toss ya one. Let's see what you can do."

Danny turned his back to the brute. "I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."

"Are you sore at me?" Stinger picked up a ball and tossed it between his hands. "Lynn was testing ya, and ya passed, kid."

"I bet..." Danny's throw was off this time – too far outside. He reached for it, swung out, and missed.

"Aw...you _are_ still sore at me, ain't cha?"

No reply. He pretended the ball was Stinger's head. Danny swung too soon with all the strength he could muster and twisted halfway around. The slugger righted himself and searched the sky for the homer. The defiant ball lay in the grass, mocking the boy.

"Here..." Stinger yanked the bat from the hands of the unsuspecting boy. "Let me show ya how it's done, son."

"Hey, my bat—" Stinger shoved Danny to the ground and snatched a few balls.

"Give it back, Stinger!...Give it back!" Danny groveled, flat on his back.

"Wanna play ball?" The crack of the bat and the shattering of glass answered Stinger's question. Then, Stinger took a swing at Danny. The defenseless one rolled over and cradled his head. The wake stirred Danny's hair. "Oh, we'll play ball all right! I'll shove the bat smack up your behind!"

Danny lay on the ground, scared to death. _Must the Snakes ruin everything?_ A wild daisy tickled his cheek. Tears streamed down his face, gracing the pedals of the flower. Danny found himself kissing Debbie under the shelter of the willow tree.

A barrage of shattering glass, then Stinger slammed the bat near Danny's head. The petrified child did not move. He felt Stinger's thudding footsteps fade away. Trusting it was safe, he poked his head up to take a gander. Stinger was nowhere to be found. The sullen boy took to his feet and gaped at the house, horrified. The windows resembled a sick jack o'lantern carving.

"Geez!" Danny kicked a baseball in disgust. "My parents are gonna kill me!"

* * *

"Whatever possessed you to break those windows?" Danny's father's eyes bulged with rage. His son merely stared at the floor. "Answer me!"

The frightened child remained tight-lipped. Tears stained his cheeks. "It was an accident," Danny whispered.

"This was an accident?" His father pointed to the windows. "I could understand one window, but five?"

"I-I-I didn't do it!"

"Ok...who did?"

Keep quiet. Silence is your friend.

Mr. Ormont shook his son. "Who did this?"

He'll never understand...

"Damn it, Danny, don't lie to me!"

"I'm not lying, Dad!"

"For the last time, who broke the windows!?!"

The child shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Leave me alone!"

"Leave you alone?" Mr. Ormont laughed. "Who's going to pay to fix this?"

"Take the money out of my allowance."

"That would take forever and a day to pay off."

"I don't care. Just don't ask, ok?"

His father's hurt expression cut into Danny's soul like the shards of glass themselves.

"Don't you think I have a right to know?"

"NO!!!"

_Smack!_ "That's for your smart mouth!"

Tears flowed freely now. The sting unearthed a sea of mixed emotions. Danny soothed his cheek, emitting a deep-throated growl.

"What did you say to me?"

"Nothing!"

"Go to your room! ...And, take your pants down."

"But, Dad, I—"

"You heard me. Maybe the strap will make you talk."

"No, Dad...please!"

"Upstairs! Now!"

Danny stomped upstairs and slammed the bedroom door. He paced his room, frantically searching in vain for some elusive solution. At last, the weary boy plunked down upon his bed. He lowered his pants and awaited his punishment.

His father arrived promptly. "Now, you're gonna count out loud for me," the man instructed, removing his belt.

Crack!

"One..."

_Crack!_ The leather strap was thin and brutal.

"Two..." Danny shut his eyes and bit his tongue, suppressing the pain.

Crack!

"Thr-ee!"

"Now, who broke those windows?"

"I don't know."

Crack!

"Stop lying to me!"

"Four!" Danny gasped. "Dad, please..."

Crack!

"Five!" Danny's backside screamed in pain.

"Had enough?"

The boy nodded, gasping for air.

"Spit it out..." his father ordered. "Who did it?"

Danny quaked with fear. He tried to speak but could not catch his breath. Mr. Ormont rested a hand on Danny's shoulder and stared straight into his son's eyes.

"Who, Danny, who?"

"It was..." Danny shivered. "A boy...up the street."

"What's his name?"

"I don't really know. Everyone calls him Stinger." The child buried his pillow, releasing the next wave of tears.

The man rubbed his son's back in remorse. "Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because..."

"Because why, Danny? Shouldn't this boy be punished?"

"He'll hurt me, Dad... He's gonna hurt me real bad."

"Relax. Stinger and I are gonna have a little man-to-man chat."

"Forget it, will ya? Just forget it."

"I can't let it go. Seems Stinger's been causing many accidents."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Remember when the cows broke loose?"

"Who wouldn't?"

"Neighbors say it was no accident," his father confessed. "Said it was Stinger."

Danny's jaw plummeted. "Really?"

"So, I can't let this slide, or he'll just strike again."

"But, Dad..." The frightened boy latched onto his father's arm. "I'll pay for it, I swear!"

"What...the windows?" his father shrugged, leaving the room. "Nonsense!"

Danny lay on his bed and brooded. His thoughts were broken by the muffled drone of his father's deep voice emanating from downstairs. Danny stole to the top of the stairs.

"How did Dad get their number?"

"...About your son, Stinger, is it?"

"Either way," Danny confessed to the walls. "I'll be paying for it."

* * *

"Danny, where are you?" Patti whistled. "It's time for our walk!" The boy's nightmare returned for an encore performance.

"Sergeant Zany's Show Dogs," Danny read the sign on the wall. He glanced around the room until his eyes circled back to the same sign. To his horror, the sign read "No U-Turn!"

Patti approached the receptionist. "What'll this good doggie do?" the bearded lady inquired, handing the ring leader her whip.

"Oh, he'll jump through hoops for me!" Patti preened her leotard. The prima donna stood before a full-length mirror, lost in self-admiration. She fixed her hair, cocked her top hat, and sauntered back stage like a supermodel.

_Patti, wait..._ "Woof! Woof, woof!" _There must be some mistake!_

"Not again!" Mr. Ormont buried his head under his pillow.

"Hang on, Denny! Sakes preserve us, will it ever end?"

"We can't go on like this, Aggie... The vet bills are killing us!"

"I'm coming, Denny!" Mrs. Ormont slipped into her housecoat and raced to find Danny hiding under the covers, crouched on all fours.

"It's show time," the clown snickered from the dressing room.

Patti yanked on Danny's leash; the boy's head popped out from under the blankets. Patti jerked the leash again, but the stubborn beast resisted. She dragged her pet by the collar into the wings, but Danny escaped her grasp. The debutante caught her star performer pacing back stage, searching for an exit.

_Patti, I'm trapped!_ "Yip! Ymm, ymm, ymm..." _I'm trapped, Patti..._ Danny slithered off the bed, howling in agony. Mum threw pillows around him. The delirious child thrashed about the floor, gnashing his teeth.

"Muzzle him!"

The bearded lady flashed a sweet smile. "Oh, I don't think—"

"Do it anyway! I wouldn't want him to squeal."

"Tell ya what..." The bearded lady handed Patti the muzzle. "Why don't you do it?"

Danny sniffed a snootful off Patti's hand, enticed by a heavenly cocktail of leather and locker room sweat. She placed the Setter in a choke hold, rendering him immobile. The protégé forced the muzzle over the dog's snout. The snare was unforgiving. Mum clamped Danny's mouth shut to quiet her son. Patti led Danny toward the grooming table; Mum guided him to bed.

"I am right beside you, boy," Patti shook his forepaw.

"I be a-right beside yea, Denny," Mum held his hand.

The strong man lifted Danny onto the grooming table and disappeared back stage. The sergeant zipped the belts taut, securing the clumsy pup. Nylon straps, thick and rough, scraped his posterior. "Do it just like we practiced!" the sergeant ordered.

Mayday! Mayday! We're going down, boys...

"Ladies and gentlemen..." The ring leader took center stage, cracking her whip. Applause filled the theatre. Patti bowed gracefully. "Here's an act that's gone to the dogs!" A young man with black, feathery hair took her hand. She greeted her assistant with open arms. "Don't blow this for me," Patti bossed through clenched teeth.

"No one would be the wiser," the clown replied.

The dog struggled to lift his head. Peering down the muzzle, he gazed at his master with a mournful eye.

"No one, of course," Patti laughed, stroking the animal's limp body. "...Except Danny!"

"Relax, I know what I'm doing!" A flip of his wrist and trimmers appeared, glistening in the spotlight.

Patti gave the clown a peck on the cheek for luck. "That's why I like you best."

The buffoon delighted in feasting the sheers upon the dog's ruddy fur; Mum ran her fingers through Danny's hair. The strong man fumed back stage, aiming a giant fan front and center. A blizzard of fur swirled into a fury of feathers.

"You feather-headed clown!" Patti snapped. "What have you done?"

# CHAPTER XV

Cat's Cradle

When Danny awoke for school Monday morning, he peered out his bedroom window and gazed towards Stinger's house. "Whatever punishment he got," Danny thought. "I bet mine was worse."

Curiously, the stretch of road before Stinger's house glistened in the sun as if coated with ice. Danny thought nothing about it and headed for breakfast. Kissing his mother goodbye, he grabbed his backpack and slipped out the door. He was pensive about what Stinger's reaction might be. Still, he was safe for now. Snakes like Stinger were already in school for the day.

Danny followed the sidewalk up the street only to observe the same inexplicable, frosted appearance. Drawing near, he froze in his tracks. The message was clear. The street was littered with vulgar graffiti, slurring his good name.

"Danny's a bleeping bleep!" one ugly message read. "Ormont's a dead man," warned another showing the skull and crossbones. "Dead men tell no tales," appeared beside a stick figure with a knife in its back. The threatening messages gave Danny chills.

Angered, he jettisoned his belongings to the ground and scampered home. School would have to wait so long as that atrocity existed for the world to see. Danny snuck under the dogwood trees that shaded the driveway and stole around back. He unlocked the basement door but it would not budge. The boy rammed the portal with his shoulder. The door flung open, and Danny sailed across the basement. He crashed into a stack of boxes. By some miracle, his mother did not hear the calamity.

Frantic, he rooted through the rubbish for a bucket and sponge. He clambered over the clutter, tripped, and staggered backwards – planting one foot in a plastic bucket. The impact created a hairline crack across the bottom. "It'll have to do," Danny frowned.

Grabbing a sponge, he locked the back door behind him. The wretch filled up at the spigot; the wounded bucket wept on his shoe. Sloshing along, Danny returned to the crime scene. The chump chucked the water onto the roadway, obliterated one blemish with the sponge, then dashed home to fetch more water. The painstaking process of erasing the abomination was insurmountable. It cost the child most of the morning and all his energy to operate this one-man bucket brigade. When the last image had swirled down the sewer, the boy eyed his watch and sighed. He gathered his belongings and hustled to school.

Morning Recess:

"Where have you been?" Andy cried in surprise.

"Long story," Danny stated. "I'll tell ya later. Right now, I gotta sneak to my locker."

"You're supposed to check in at the office."

"I know, but I can't. Not now."

"You're in luck. See those double doors?"

Danny looked where Andy was pointing. Every classroom had a single door to the outside, so the twin doors were prominent. "Yes, I see them. The doors with the little windows."

"Roger. Those doors lead directly to the locker nook."

"Great!...But, what if they're locked?"

"Then, turn around and go right back home."

"Huh?"

"If you're gonna cut school, why be punished for half a day?"

Danny had not considered his little escapade as cutting school – at least, it was not premeditated. _It was for a noble cause, but would any Grump believe him?_ At the risk of getting busted, he could only manage one disaster at a time.

"Better hurry, Mouse. There isn't much time."

"Wish me luck..."

"Fear the Fish!"

The timid boy walked on eggshells toward the double doors, praying one would be unlocked. Danny gripped the first door handle and squeezed. The lever did not yield.

"One down," Danny thought, sweating bullets. "And, one to go." The anxious boy tried the second door which put up the same stubborn resistance. "Oh, no! Wait a minute..." The fearful waif noticed the second door was not secured. The portal had failed to latch. "Thank goodness!"

Cautiously, Danny opened the door without a sound. Stepping into the alcove, two familiar voices whispered amongst the lockers.

"Look Mark," a girl's voice bossed. "I need a good grade on tomorrow's test – no matter what, understand?"

"Aw Patti, give me a little feel," Mark begged.

_Patti?_ Danny tiptoed to his target, straining to catch every word. _What's she doing here?_

"Not until you promise to do me this favor," the girl teased.

"C'mon, Patti...you promised."

"If I fail that test tomorrow, Mother will kill me."

"Don't worry about a thing. Just pay up!"

"Here's a little advance." Patti's lips smacked Mark's cheek. "That's a down payment."

Danny's heart sank like a stone. _Geez, Patti!_ Danny crouched beside his locker. _What the heck is this?_

"I can't wait for the rest!" Mark pawed the girl's chest. Smack!!! "Hey!" Mark rubbed his cheek. "Whatcha do that for?"

_Good girl, Patti!_ Danny stifled his laugher.

"Listen up and listen good, featherhead," Patti demanded. "You're working for me, clown!"

... _Featherhead?...Clown?_ Danny's eyes popped from their sockets.

"Yes, Patti..."

"Don't blow this for me!"

"Hey, I know what I'm doing! Sheesh..."

Patti pinched her companion's cheek. "That's why I like you best."

_Mayday! Mayday! We're going down, boys!_ Danny bit his fist, muzzling his big mouth. He wanted to scream; he wanted to die. Her words came like strafing fire, tearing his heart to shreds. "Ok, ok. First, I must open my locker." Danny muttered. "Just lift the latch. Gently, now, gently..."

Tormented by sinister banter, Danny wished the troublesome twosome would leave. "If they hear me, I'm dead! Good God, don't let them catch me!" he muttered. "...And, if I can't open my locker, I'm dead!" The boy panicked, mouthing his thoughts. "Heck, I can't tell a teacher because I shouldn't even be here!" _Oh, Patti... I'm trapped, I'm trapped!_

The fight-or-flight instinct urged him to run, but there was no place to go. His blood froze. Danny recognized that, indeed, _HE_ is that trapped dog – frantically searching for the exit. "Holy hiccups... My nightmare is coming true!...Is this what those doggone dreams meant? What else might it mean, and what about those cave dreams?" The enigma gnawed his brain; anxiety gnashed his guts. "Lift the latch," he berated himself. "Just lift the blasted latch!"

Giddy laughter masked the squeal from his locker door. "Each dream must be a small piece of a much greater puzzle." His thoughts were broken by a rumbling stampede. "Huh, recess must be over." The boy remained huddled beside his locker afraid of being discovered. It seemed like an eternity before Patti and Mark finally exited the locker area. Once their voices faded down the hall, Danny breathed a welcomed sigh of relief.

"That's my cue." Clambering to his feet, Danny felt a presence. Someone was standing behind him. He slowly cocked his neck to find himself staring into a pair of fiery eyes.

"Daniel!" Mrs. Fishbine stomped her foot. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Who? M-m-me?" The boy was riddled with guilt. "Nothing. I was just..."

"Nonsense. You're tardy. Technically speaking? Delinquent."

"I am not a delinquent, I'm just late!"

"Never mind! Get moving!"

"Right..."

"Tardiness breeds laziness."

"I'll try to remember that."

"Please do. I will not tolerate tardiness...especially after recess!"

"Recess? Whew, I thought you meant—"

The woman tapped the tip of her nose. "Punctuality, my boy, punctuality!"

_That was close._ The boy unclenched his tongue. _Her ignorance is my bliss!_

"Hurry up I before you get marked absent!" Mrs. Fishbine vacated the locker nook in a huff.

Lucky for me, I'm already absent!...She'd have to mark me present!

"Any day now, Daniel!"

C'mon lunchtime...

Unfortunately, one class stood between Danny and lunch – Mrs. Fishbine's class.

Reading Class:

The students funneled into Mrs. Fishbine's class and quickly took their seats. Danny ogled Patti like a lovesick pup. The girl paid him no mind, preoccupied with greater matters. Good grades were top priority to Patti – at any cost. Gazing at Mark, she feared her accomplice lacked the skills to execute her perfect plan. The smallest mistake could jeopardize her mission to skate through the school year.

"As you know," Mrs. Fishbine began. "There will be a test tomorrow." Spirits sank. Groans filled the classroom.

"Tomorrow?" a boy objected. "Tests are supposed to be on Fridays!"

"Good students are _always_ prepared, William!"

"We're good...just not _that_ good!"

"Don't act surprised."

"Geez, a midweek test? That's a low blow..."

"Billy!" Mrs. Fishbine pounced. "I mean, William...is your arm broken?"

"No, but..."

"Then, your mouth must be stuck in overdrive. Stand up!" The unsuspecting boy obeyed her command. "Now, child, I shall teach you to raise your hand."

"Poor Billy." Danny whispered to Andy, shaking his head in pity. "Another victim of Fishkill..."

"Now, William, what were you going to ask?"

The feebleminded boy was quick to take the bait. "Will we review..."

"Shame, shame!" Mrs. Fishbine teased in singsong manner. "You didn't raise your hand!"

His arm rocketed skyward. His unfurled hand flapped furiously in the teacher's face. But, Mrs. Fishbine let him stew.

"Have a heart, woman," Danny muttered. "The kid's ok, but his mouth's a menace."

The evil woman relished in delight watching her prey wriggle like a worm snagged by her fishhook. The boy's face turned from pink to red to blue. His flesh resembled that of an eggplant by the time the naïve child got the message. Sweaty and defeated, he lowered his hand.

"Oh, my! I'm sorry, William. I did not recognize you," the lady sneered. "Now, what were you going to ask?"

"N-n-nothing..." The exhausted boy was winded. "N-n-no f-f-further questions."

"That will teach you to raise your hand," she croaked. "You may be seated." His classmates did not dare to breathe.

"Where was I?" She paced the floor, collecting her thoughts. "Oh, yes, let's review the stories we—" The woman spied a hand. "Yes, Patricia?"

_Patricia???_ Danny seethed. _How dare the Fish sully her adorable name!_

"Mrs. Fishbine, I missed the first story, remember?"

"I told you once. The story is in your reader, Patricia."

"Anyone dare call me _Trish_ ," the girl muttered, "and I'll puke!" Danny pretended to gag on his finger. Amused, Patti shot him a smile.

"Don't mumble, child...speak up!"

"I said, uh...it must be a fluke! The last page is missing."

"Impossible! A page can't be missing..."

"Don't tell me, tell my book."

"Patricia, these are brand new textbooks."

"See for yourself."

"Honestly, child!" Mrs. Fishbine groaned. "I wasn't prepared for an imbroglio."

"A good teacher is _always_ prepared," Patti quipped.

One infectious giggle sparked an epidemic. The children were awed by this sly girl who had outfoxed Mrs. Fishbine, defeating the teacher at her own game.

" _QUIET!!!_ " the woman thundered. "Get busy on the chapter review while I assist Patricia."

"Lollapaloozas!" Danny sighed. "Ole Worry Wart's gonna peck out my liver. Peck, peck, peck..."

The bewildered woman stormed towards Patti and clenched the rogue book in her quaking hands. She flipped several pages and huffed. Winking, the suspicious cyclops scrutinized every inch of the literary landscape as if it were a prop in a magic trick. She examined the cover and peered down the spine. Both were clean from telltale signs of abuse. The children worked diligently as the harried hag marched toward her closet. Once the lady's back was turned, the class bully sprang into action.

Mark yawned and stretched, propelling his chair toward the teacher's desk. The nervous lady scolded her uncooperative hands as she wrangled with the storeroom lock. The jangle of keys filled the air. The mischievous boy sat sidesaddle, shuffling through the teacher's papers. The hunched woman lectured her supply cabinet walls about the importance of responsibility. Mark searched frantically. The woman's head surfaced from the closet. Mark claimed a manila folder labeled _Unit Test_. Patti bit her lip. The closet door latched closed. The brash boy swept the file from the desk and into a notebook resting in his lap. The clomping of high heels drew near. Mark whipped back around. The teacher eyed the class with suspicion. At last, the deed was done.

"Now, Patricia..."

"Huh?" The girl jumped, flushed with guilt. "What did I do?"

"I never said you did anything. Here's your new reader. Take good care of it."

"Oh, yes...thank you," the scarlet girl sighed in relief. "I will."

"Mark? Mark!" The boy's jaw scraped the floor. Mrs. Fishbine approached the boy. "Are you working hard, or hardly working?"

"I, uh, uh, uh..."

"Deep thoughts from deep minds." Mrs. Fishbine settled into her desk chair. "Thank you, Mark the Orator." Chuckles traversed the room. "I hear chitchat!" the teacher snapped, rooting through a stack of papers. "More workee, less talkee!"

The submissive students succumbed to the yoke of their oppressive assignment once more. "It's gone!" the teacher screeched; her feathers ruffled. "The test – it's gone!" No one dared to breathe. "Who stole the test off my desk?" Mrs. Fishbine screamed. "It was right here!" The woman broke into a sweat. "Who took it?" A class of sullen eyes begged for mercy. "If no one admits to stealing the test, the whole class will be punished." Her thunderous voice echoed off the cold walls. "I promise...you will have a week's worth of punishment!" Not one student stirred. "Fine!" she snorted. "For starters, put your heads down on your desks!"

Lunchtime:

The arrival of lunch forced Mrs. Fishbine to release her hostages. A crowd formed in the locker nook. Frenzied children snatched their bagged goodies and scurried to the cafeteria. Patti pretended to rummage through her locker until the crowd dispersed. Mark did the same. At last, it was safe to rendezvous among the shadows for the secret drop.

"I got it, Patti!" Mark waved a folder over his head. "Just as I promised....So, pay up."

"Didn't I tell ya she'd fall for it?"

Mark attempted to embrace the girl. "Pay up, Patti!"

"Whoa, slow down," she giggled, pushing him away. "Give me the test, first." Patti snatched at the folder, but Mark kept it just out of reach.

"You'll get what you want _after_ I get what I want!"

Patti took his right hand and clamped it against her chest allowing Mark to fondle her young breast. "There!" Patti snapped, coldly. "Are you happy now?"

Mrs. Fishbine was heading to Mr. Foster's room when she heard a commotion in the locker nook. "Aaah!" Mrs. Fishbine caught Mark re-handed. "Leave her alone!"

"Oh, Mrs. Fishbine!" Patti cried. "Thank goodness, you're here! He attacked me!"

"What??? I did no such thing!"

"Mark, go to the Office!"

"She's lying!" Mark pointed with a manila folder.

"Oh, really? And, what's this?" Mrs. Fishbine snatched the folder from the culprit's grasp. "It was Patti's idea, I swear! Tell her, Patti!...Patti?"

The two looked around, but Patti was nowhere to be found. In all the excitement, she had vanished from the scene.

"That is _so_ low...blaming an innocent girl!"

"B-b-but, it's true! I swear, she—"

"You're just sore I caught your hands on her goodies!"

Afternoon Recess:

The children rushed into the schoolyard. Andy fidgeted on the bench, anticipating the arrival of his friend.

"Hey, look!" Andy bobbed his yo-yo. "Guess what I finally remembered to bring!"

Danny buried his hands in his pockets and turned away.

"Don't be sore at me....Be glad I found it!"

With bowed head, the boy kicked at a rock embedded in the soil.

"Geez, I said I was sorry. Don't give me the silent treatment."

"It's not you..."

"What is it, then? You look like you lost your best friend."

"You might say that," Danny collapsed onto the bench. "It's Patti..."

"What about her?"

"She... She... She likes Mark Parks best."

"How do you know that?"

"Actually, I shouldn't," Danny whispered. He glanced at Andy then looked away. "Seriously, I shouldn't know this, but...."

"How can you possibly know something you shouldn't know?"

"Swear on your life, first."

"I swear, Mouse, ok? I swear! Do you want it written in blood?"

"Just listen to me, will ya?...Remember I was late this morning?"

"Yeah...so?"

"Well, Patti and Mark were fooling around by the lockers, and..."

"You're kidding!"

"Actually, it was Mark who did the fooling. Patti slapped him good!"

"...Patti?...Slapped Mark?"

"Doesn't matter..." Danny stared at the dirt. "She said she likes him best."

Andy emitted a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "That's a shocker, all right. What else did she say?"

Danny did not have the stomach to share what else he had overheard. "Isn't that enough? I want to die."

"Did they know you were there?"

"No, thank goodness. So, mum's the word, got it?"

"I already swore I wouldn't talk, didn't I?" Andy restated. "It's our secret."

"How can she like him? He's such a lizard!"

"You mean, loser."

"Lizard, loser...what's the difference?"

"My life is over." The heartbroken boy shriveled like a deflated sail. "She doesn't even know I exist."

"Well, I've got some juicy news that'll cheer you up."

"Nothing you could say can cheer me up." Danny fought back the tears.

"Mark Parks got suspended for a full week!"

"Quit funnin'! I'm in no mood..."

"It's true. Didn't you notice he was missing after lunch?"

"I haven't exactly been trackin' that weasel."

"Mrs. Fishbine caught him red-handed. Can you believe it? That dolt stole the Reading test!"

"Holy guacamole! He'd steal a blood test if he thought it'd help!"

"...Or, at least stay up all night studying for one!"

"Say, Andy?" Danny's spirits soared. "...Do you know why they call it ketchup?"

"Heck, I don't know... Why?"

"Would you eat something _from behind?_ "

"Ha, good one. No one would eat that!"

"Well, well...Andy my boy!" The fragile child stretched, resting his hands behind his head.

"Things couldn't be more perfect!"

"You got one week, Mouse," Andy declared. "Better make your move – and fast."

"Geez, I'm so nervous. What do I say to her?"

"Don't flat-out spill your heart straight off."

"No?"

"Ut-uh. Play it cool, see? Act like you're doing _her_ a favor."

"She'll see right through that. I dunno...I gotta be me."

"Are you a man or a...oh, uh, never mind."

Danny's eyes sparkled. "When the time's right, it'll just happen."

"One week, Mouse." Andy bobbed his yo-yo. "Do it, or die."

"Can I try? Can I try?" It was Billy Thompson. "I've had enough kickball for one day."

"Sure!" Andy nudged Danny. "I'll even teach you some tricks!"

* * *

Danny flew home that warm afternoon with his head riding high upon his shoulders. His heart was light as a feather. The news about Mark gave Danny an unexpected edge.

"How am I going approach her?" Danny thought out loud. "I'll grovel at her feet....Hello, I'm Danny..." he practiced. "Geez, that's dumb. She already knows that....I'm Danny. Remember me?" his brain conjectured. "How corny!" he frowned. "That Fishbine's tough..." he concocted. "Not bad, for openers."

The long walk home afforded Danny the opportunity to let his thoughts run wild. "Seriously, how do I get her to notice me?" Danny pondered, gazing at the horizon. "Set Pickles free again?" he laughed to himself. "That would get her attention." Danny mulled over this dilemma until his head hurt. "I wish she wasn't always hanging around with Cheryl," Danny sighed. "If I could just catch Patti alone, and take her by surprise..." he grinned. "Gosh, it looks so easy on TV!"

_ZING!_ A stone grazed Danny's ear. His guardian angel must have been watching over him that day. One inch more, and Danny shuttered to think what cemetery he'd be in right now.

"You told on me, didn't you?" Stinger popped out of the brush, tackling his adversary.

The ambushed child buckled at the knees and sprawled upon the ground. Danny found himself staring into the black abyss of impenetrable lenses.

"Get off me, you jerk!" Danny winced, wriggling under his adversary.

"Why'd ya tell?" Stinger held his prey to ground; arms pinned overhead like a bug in an insect collection. Pain flashed along his lame arm. "Why'd ya tell?"

He's just a Snake. There's nothing lower than a Snake.

Stinger slapped Danny across the face, freeing the boy's good hand in the process.

"Answer me! Why'd ya—"

Danny jabbed Stinger's jaw. His holy sunglasses flew off his face, shattering into pieces.

"You'll pay for that, skunk!" Sledgehammer fists bludgeoned the weakling like a punching bag.

_Mayday! Mayday!_ Danny's lungs deflated like two balloons. _We're going down, boys..._ Fighting off the crippling pain, he prayed the behemoth's muscles would fatigue.

"Ya... You..." Waves of hot breath, stinking of tobacco, smothered Danny. "Hah... Had... Enough?"

The victim played dead, silently counting to three. "Happy Father's Day!" Danny slugged the teen in the crotch.

Breathless, Stinger jolted backward; excruciating trauma burned deep within. The roach reeled on his back and struggled to right himself. Grabbing his backpack, Danny ran like the wind – never looking back.

# CHAPTER XVI

Mouse Jumps Over the Moon

Danny sat at the breakfast table, mindlessly swirling his cereal. Obsessed with Patti, he had no appetite. "I've got to talk to her – alone," he moped at his milky reflection. The mere thought of approaching the girl turned the boy's guts into a squished doughnut with filling oozing out.

"I gotta relax...get a grip!" His stomach was full of jumping beans. "It'll happen!" he whispered. "When the time is right..."

"Did yea hear me, Denny?" his mother called from the next room.

" _Hmmmm?_ " The boy grinned from ear to ear, lost in a euphoric stupor.

"Yea feelin' ok?"

"Never better, Mum, why do you ask?"

"Yea be acting strange...sure yea be a-feelin' ok?"

"I'm fine..." he said, gazing out the window. Those jumping beans danced the jitterbug. _What magic words could win her heart?_

"Sakes alive, lad! Yea haven't touched yer breakfast!"

"No thanks...I couldn't take another bite."

"Well, off yea go then, aye?" His mother set the kettle on the stove.

"Can Dad give me a lift?"

"Heavens, I told yea once! Father's on business in Cleveland."

"Funny, he didn't mention it at dinner."

"Aye, that he did....Where's yer head?"

"Sorry, Mum. I got a lot on my mind."

"Honestly... What be a-weighin' yea down?"

"School stuff." Danny poked at his soggy cereal. "You wouldn't understand."

"P'shah... Speakin' of school, yea must participate more in class."

"What?"

Mum rested a fruit bowl on the table. "Yea teacher, Mr. Foster is it?"

"Yes, what about him?"

"He feels yea know the science, but yea must be a-sharin' more wit the class."

"I know, I know..." Danny drowned a crunchy cluster with his spoon.

"Says yea be quiet as a mouse."

"I can't find the words..."

"Believe in yerself, lad. Speak up and be noticed!"

"They'd just laugh at me..."

"Pooh! If yea know it, show it."

"But, my belly ties in knots, my brain freezes, and I get tongue—"

"Words flow best when a-spoken from the heart."

"Yes, Mum. I'll try harder to get her attention..."

"What's that now, lad?"

"His! His! I mean...I'll get _his_ attention!"

"Remember, lad, good grades be no accident."

Danny rinsed his bowl. "I'll do better." He dried his hands on a dish towel. "So...what's for breakfast?"

"Boogers! Yea oughta be a-filled to the gills!" Mrs. Ormont dashed to the stove, slave to the kettle's beck and call.

"Must be your pep talk, Mum!"

"Yea don't say..." The woman smirked, dunking her teabag. "Were we a-talkin' the same language?"

"Gotta run!...Love ya!"

Danny scurried off to school. Soon, he took his place in line outside Mr. Foster's door with the other boys. He wrenched his neck and scanned the crowd. Many children from Patti's bus were present, but she was not there.

"Darn, she _would_ be out today," Danny muttered, rubbing his hands together.

Andy approached Danny from behind, pumping his yo-yo. "Watch this one, Mouse." A frosty cloud stretched from the boy's lips like a cartoon balloon. Danny watched in amazement. Andy snapped his wrist, and the yo-yo arced like a guided missile into a high trajectory. The bob orbited Andy's hand once and came to rest in the commanding boy's palm. "It's called _Ring Around The Moon_ ," Andy gloated.

"Wow, wish I could do that."

"Trust me, you'll get the knack..."

"I'd be happy if the darn thing would come back!"

"It's all in the wrist..." The shivering trickster repeated the stunt. "So, today's the big day?"

"Huh?"

"Ya gonna talk to Patti...right?"

"I told you. When the time is right, it'll happen."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Trust me..." Danny winked. "I got the knack!"

Science Class:

The bell sounded, and Mr. Foster opened the back door. The frozen children flooded the passage like he had opened a sluice gate. Inside, the room's warm welcome chased away the autumn chill.

"Go to your lockers and then take your seats," Mr. Foster repeated his morning litany.

Bustling children scampered between the lockers and homeroom. The girls flocked to one corner of the classroom like chickadees, chirping with the latest gossip. Across the way, a brood of boys huddled to chitchat about sports, girls, and sports. Perched atop their desks, Andy and Danny surveyed the room.

"Doesn't look good, Mouse."

"I hope she's not sick."

The morning announcements sputtered from the loud speaker, and the lesson commenced.

"Today, I thought we'd discuss our closest neighbor, the moon." Mr. Foster positioned himself at the head of the class.

Distraught over Patti's absence, Danny's mind was absent, too.

"...Moon has no light of its own......Moon circles the earth..."

When the time is right, what will I say to her?

"...About 29 days......About 240,000 miles away..."

What did Mum advise? Speak from the heart?

"...Moon keeps the same face to earth......Moon does not turn upon its axis..."

" _WAAAAITTTT!!!_ "

"Danny!" Mr. Foster was floored. "Please raise—"

"Did you say the moon does _not_ rotate?"

"Yes, that is correct. That way, the same side always faces earth."

"No! That's _not_ right!" A light chuckle echoed across the room.

"Cool it, Mouse!" Barnegat piped up. "It says so right in our science books."

"Then, our science books are wrong!"

The children laughed hysterically at Danny's gall. Mr. Foster retired to his desk and allowed the class to debate the issue.

"Mouse, do you know _more_ than the science book?" Thompson challenged.

"Books can be wrong, ya know."

His opponents' contempt was contagious.

"Forget it, Mouse!" a voice shouted. "You're obviously wrong."

"It's true, I tell ya!" Danny insisted. "And, I can prove it!"

"Don't listen to him!" snapped another. "He's looney."

The teacher's curiosity was piqued. "Can you really prove it, Danny?"

"Absolutely! The center of attention, the boy's heart pounded like a bass drum.

"Then, please come forward."

Bombarded by insults, Danny trudged front and center.

"Ooh...you're gonna get it now, Mouse!" teased a choir.

"Quiet!" Mr. Foster was unamused. "This debate is exactly how we learn from one another."

The teacher rested an arm on Danny's shoulder, knelt down, and looked the child in the eye. "If you can't prove it, it's all right," Mr. Foster whispered. "I'll clear things with the class."

The man rose to his full height when Danny tugged on his sleeve. "Mr. Foster?" The boy was beaming. "Just find me an assistant."

"Danny informed me," Mr. Foster announced. "He'll need an assistant." He found no allies.

"Having a partner is a marvelous idea! In fact, I think I shall break the class into groups."

"Thanks a lot, Mouse," someone grunted.

"Don't sound so excited. Now...who is willing to help Danny?"

Mr. Foster scanned a sea of blank stares – not one volunteer. "No one? Will no one take Danny as a partner?" Even Andy was uncertain of Danny's cockamamie scheme.

"It depends..." a brave soul revealed.

"On what?"

"Depends if _you_ say he's right...or wrong." The consensus laughed, nodding in agreement.

"This is a class discussion," Mr. Foster explained. "It doesn't matter what I think."

"Sorry, Mr. Foster...I was running late." Patti burst through the door. The bedraggled girl grappled with her books. The stack teetered on her knee while presenting her hall pass.

"Why, Miss Connor!" The teacher rescued her tipsy tomes from a perilous plummet. "I'd say you're right on time. Help us settle a wager."

"Me?" Patti straightened her outfit and patted her hair. "But, I-I-I..."

"That's right," Mr. Foster placed her books on the floor. "Come stand beside Mr. Ormont."

"No, really...I'll just take my—"

"The science book says the moon does not turn on its axis."

Patti failed to comprehend the complexities. "So?"

"Well, Mr. Ormont claims this is incorrect....Which do you believe?"

Patti brushed her bangs and bit her lip. "The science book, I guess...why?"

"Because Danny insists he can prove his point. What do you say to that?"

"Ok...let's see him prove it."

"Will you be his science partner?"

"Oh, boy!"

"All right, Danny..." The teacher stepped aside. "Let's see what you can show us."

Danny approached the globe atop Mr. Foster's desk. His highly curious assistant followed.

"Patti, please hold out your hand." The girl obeyed without hesitation. "Just follow my lead," he instructed, gripping her wrist. "Keep your palm facing the globe at all times, ok?"

The girl nodded in agreement. "Sounds simple enough."

Danny addressed the class. "Now, let's say Patti's hand is the moon." Danny informed his fellow students. "Her palm is what people call the near side. Here's what we'd see if the moon did not rotate."

All eyes were glued on the performers. Mr. Foster shuffled through some books at his desk while Danny performed for the class. Maintaining his grip, Danny proceeded to guide her hand in a path that followed the surface of the globe.

"Hey, what gives? I can't do it!" she declared.

"That's exactly my point. If your hand does not rotate, you can't do it."

Patti cocked her head a tad and smiled in amazement. Danny smiled back; his heart performed backflips.

"But, when I loosen my grip..." Danny repeated the same experiment, circling the globe. "Watch what happens this time."

"Piece of cake!...If you'll let me turn my wrist."

"Exactly. And, that's why the moon _must_ rotate on its axis."

"How did you do that? Is it a trick?"

"Oh, I'm just full of surprises..." Danny dreamed.

Patti giggled like tiny bubbles floating on a breeze. "Uh, Mouse...can I have my hand back, please?" Danny stared in awe, wallowing in her chocolate brown eyes.

"No! You'll fall!" Her companion grew irate. "I won't let go this time!"

" _This time?_ " Patti gawked at the freak. "Is the sky green in your world?"

"I swear this all seems strangely familiar." Danny tightened his grip.

"OW! You're hurting me!"

"Danny? Danny!" Mr. Foster cried. "Mr. Ormont!"

"Mouse, I think you're being paged..." The girl snapped her fingers before his eyes.

"Huh...? Oh, oh..." Danny released Patti's wrist. "I'm sorry."

"That was a very impressive demonstration." Mr. Foster applauded. "Actually, Danny is right. Here are other books which agree."

A collective gasp rippled across the classroom. The children were all abuzz, only this time, not one negative remark was spoken. Danny and Patti stood at the front of the room, awaiting further instruction.

"Let's settle down, people," Mr. Foster called. The students gave Mr. Foster their undivided attention. "I only have one question for the class. Who wants to be Danny's science partner?

All hands rocketed into the air. Mr. Foster gazed into a crowd of goosenecked arms, stretching and straining, competing to reach higher and farther than the next. They moaned in pain, desiring to be Danny's partner.

"Actually, Miss Connor... You two already make excellent partners."

"Huh? No! I mean, I-I-I..."

"Wonderful! I thought you'd agree." Mr. Foster divided the rest of the class into study groups of three amidst grumbles of disapproval. "Don't complain. It can always be worse."

"Say, what about Danny and Patti?"

"I think the two of them will work out just fine. Wouldn't you agree?"

Danny was elated. Good fortune was drawing them together. The couple locked eyes, and the boy's heart floated away. He stood on the brink of bliss ready to reveal his heart. _Why am I so afraid?_ He cleared his throat and conjured up the nerve.

"...St. Swithin's?" Danny cried. "No way!"

"What did you say?"

"Patti, you _really_ came from St. Swithin's?"

"Hey! Who told you?"

"Uh, duuh!...You just told me."

"But...I didn't say anything!"

"Patti! You just told me you went to St. Swithin's School for Girls."

"What are you, a mind reader? I never said a word."

"That's too freaky...how else could I have known?'

"The only thing freaky around here is you!"

"That's funny...I thought you were just new to the class."

"No, I'm new to the school. What's so funny about that?"

"Because...I'm new, too."

"No way!"

"You don't get it. I went to St. Swithin's School for Boys!"

"Impossible. That's just too weird!"

"Uh, Patti..." He shuffled his foot, sighed, and turned away. "Wanna hear something even weirder?" The shy boy glanced back, and she was gone.

Morning Recess:

"Well...? What'd she say, what'd she say?" Andy gushed. "Tell me everything!"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb. What did Patti say?"

"Oh...nothing."

"You two were sure talking up a storm for a lot of nothing."

"Say, Andy...What do you feed a hungry table?"

"I don't know. What kind of question is that?"

"Seriously, what do you feed a hungry table?"

"Quit stalling!...What did Patti say?"

"Give up?"

"I suppose..." The fair-haired boy shrugged. "Tell me."

"Table food!"

"Oh, that's terrible!"

"I know," Danny snickered. "My jokes are no laughing matter." Andy sucker-punched the comedian in the shoulder.

"And, how do you feed a hungry table?"

The captive sidekick covered his ears. "I'm afraid you're going to tell me..."

"One _tablespoon_ at a time, get it?"

"Oh, that's awful," Andy groaned. "Your jokes have gone to the dogs."

"Now, what do hungry fingers eat?"

"Enough, already! Tell me what Patti..."

"...C'mon, guess!"

"Don't tell me." The boy held his stomach and groaned. "...Finger food?"

"Yes, but how do you feed hungry fingers?"

"You got me there."

"By the fistful!" The giddy boys chuckled in the warm autumn sun.

Andy grew serious. "Quit foolin'! Speaking of fool, what was all that nonsense in class?"

"Not sure what you mean."

"Stalling again?...Didn't you tell Patti that she was going to fall?"

"Oh that...it was nothing."

"Nothing, huh? And, something else was strange, too..." Andy scratched his head. "What was it? Aw, c'mon, you remember..."

"We have something in common." Danny blushed. His ears blazed red, stopping traffic a block away. "Patti and me..."

Andy shot his friend an incredulous look. "Ya gonna torture me? Or, ya gonna straight-out tell me?"

"She came from my old school..." Danny stared into the distance.

"Impossible! Didn't you say you went to an all-boys school?"

"Yes, I did. I mean she was at my sister school."

"There's a coincidence for ya," Andy remarked. "What else did she say?"

"Nothing..."

"Enough already!" Andy exploded, tired of beating around the bush. "Did you ask her out?"

"No..."

"Geez, are you dumb! You had her, and you let her get away?"

"Get away? She's not going anywhere."

"Don't be so sure..."

"I'm not worried. It'll happen when the time is right."

"You keep saying that." Andy raised a doubting eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?"

"Don't you see? It's happening right before your eyes! We were destined to become partners!" Danny cheered. "Just like I told ya!"

"I don't know..."

"Oh! And, there's one thing more..."

Andy rubbed his hands together. "Now, we're getting to the good stuff!"

Danny looked his friend straight in the eye. "I can't put my finger on it, but I swear, for a minute there..."

"Finally....Don't stop now!"

"We could read each other's minds!" Danny whispered, glancing around. "That's how I knew what school she attended."

"Dang, Mouse..." His friend ogled the crazy loon, perplexed. "I suppose you expect me to believe that, too."

"It doesn't really matter if you believe me or not. It simply _is_."

In the lower field, the friendly game of kickball exploded into a bench-clearing brawl. Andy and Danny stood beneath the sheltering oak and watched sportsmanship melt into mutiny. Fellow classmates turned against each other pushing, clawing, jabbing, tackling, punching, pinching, grabbing, and biting until the future athletes melded into a living sculpture – a mound of human spaghetti.

"C'mon...let's go break it up."

"Do you have a death wish, Mouse? They'll cream us!"

Danny marched toward the field. "Trust me, I know what I'm doing." Andy followed in hot pursuit.

"Give it back!" Beneath the human pyramid wriggled two forms, one hugging the kickball. "Get off me!"

It was Barnegat and Thompson, kickball diamond kings. Danny saw them for the first time in a new light – their natural habitat. The Neanderthals were undoubtedly the two biggest kids in the sixth grade and destined for varsity football. For now, they were opposing team captains.

"You were out!"

"The ball never touched me!"

Danny perused the tangled knot of angry boys. Andy kept his distance. Boys punched and howled–jammed shoulder to shoulder, foot to face. The pack clawed each other like wolves vying for the same bone. The diplomat approached the hostile crowd, unnoticed. He took a deep breath, placed two fingers on opposite sides of his mouth, and expelled a shrill whistle instantly grabbed the boys' attention.

"Hey, Barnegat! What are the rules to this game?"

"Stay out of it, Mouse!"

"Is this some new way to play kickball, Thompson?"

"Butt out, Ormont!"

Nearby, their teachers served sentry duty over the schoolyard. "What are those boys doing?" Mrs. Fishbine gasped, in horror.

"Calm down, Edna..."

"Shouldn't we break it up?"

"Call me crazy, but I believe Danny has it well under control."

"You're right, Stan..." Mrs. Fishbine seethed. "You _are_ crazy!"

"This won't settle anything!"

"Says you!"

"Is this what the gym teacher means by _magnet ball?_ "

"Mouse, you fool... What are you talking about?"

"Friendship. Is that how friends act?"

"He's no friend of mine!" Thompson snorted. "Did ya see that play at the plate?"

"What's more important?"

The teachers remained at their post, monitoring the situation.

"You put too much faith in your students, Stan."

"They're a fine bunch."

Mrs. Fishbine frowned, turning away. "You coddle them, Stanley."

"And, you stifle them," Mr. Foster retorted.

"Give them an inch, and they'll take a yard."

"You mean, give them an inch, and they'll _grow_ a yard."

The cynical woman faced her colleague. "Want some free advice?"

"No thanks. I can't afford it – even at _that_ price."

"Children should be treated as inferiors."

"Let up on the reins, Edna. Let their pride shine through."

"It'll never work..."

"I'll bet you a lunch that Danny can settle this amicably."

The stubborn woman pumped her advisory's hand. "I'll be looking forward to it."

"There's more to Danny than meets the eye, you can be sure of that."

"They're serving hamburgers today," Mrs. Fishbine bragged. "Make mine rare."

On the kickball field, the fatigued warriors began to unknot. The mob encircled Danny and the two quarreling boys. Barnegat and Thompson dusted themselves off.

"I wasn't out! It never touched me!"

"You still don't get it...do you? You're really all on the same team. It's just a game."

Those words torqued Barnegat's neck. "Well, it's pretty dang important to us!"

"You have to settle this like friends, or else..."

"Or else what, Mouse?"

"First, you lose trust, and then you lose friendship." The two brutes were silenced by the impact of Danny's words. "Heck, why even play kickball if you can't trust each other?"

"So, how should we settle this?...All peaceful like and stuff?"

Barnegat placed an arm across Danny's shoulder. "You know something, Mouse? You're a real pain in my butt!"

"I know..." Danny grinned. "Somebody has to be."

"Well, if it has to be anyone," Barnegat smiled back. "I'm sure glad it's you."

"Here..." Danny revealed a quarter from his hip pocket. "Heads, he's safe; tails, he's out."

The coin toss had been decided. Reluctantly, the team captains shook hands and smiled. Play resumed.

"I wonder, Edna..." Mr. Foster sneered. "Does the cafeteria serve crow?"

# CHAPTER XVII

Gone to the Dogs

After school, Patti stormed into her humble abode and slammed the door.

Mother turned up the volume to her favorite soap opera. "Sh! We're about to find out if Ingrid has been cheating on Anthony."

Patti threw her books in the corner and stomped into the kitchen. She poured herself a cold drink and pounced back into the living room. She collapsed on the couch and cozied up beside her mother. Mrs. Connor stroked Patti's hair while they watched the end of the show.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing! Everything's coming up roses."

Mother turned down the volume. "Did something happen in school today?"

"Yes, _something_ happened!"

"Well, what is it?" Mother rested an arm on Patti's shoulder.

"I got the _wrong_ partner in science. That's what happened."

"Oh, my...is he too dumb to cheat off of?"

"No, Mother!" Patti crossed her arms. "And, why do you assume it's a _he_?"

"Smells like boy trouble to me."

"Yes, Mother..."

"So, tell Mother all about your new pet."

"He's smart, Mother. He'll know. It'll never work."

"And, that's what has my little girl so upset?"

"If that dummy, Mark, hadn't royally screwed everything up..."

" _Mark_? You never told me about any _Mark_."

"Oh, he's just a friend. Anyway, _he_ was supposed to be my partner..."

"Look, Patti," Mother shook a lecturing finger. "I hope I won't be disappointed."

Patti dodged her mother's icy stare. "No, Mother."

"So, how are _we_ doing in school, anyway?"

"Fine, I guess."

"You know, _we_ can't afford any mistakes, Patti."

"Yes, Mother..."

"They'll take you out of the advanced class...understand?"

"I know! I know!" Patti rolled her eyes.

"Don't get flip with me!"

"Yes, Mother, it's just that..."

"Your teachers don't think you can do it, but I—"

"All right, Mother!" Patti eyed the ceiling.

"But, _we_ know differently, don't _we_?"

"Will ya cut me a break?"

"Listen, girly! I fought damn hard to get you into the advanced class. So, start making the grades! Don't embarrass _me_."

"Yes, Mother..." Patti sighed, sulking to her bedroom. "I won't embarrass you."

"Oh, Patti-cakes, can I see you a moment?" Lynn abducted the girl from the hall, clamping the victim's mouth shut from behind.

"Mmm! Mm mmm um mmm mmm!" Patti protested, struggling to break free.

Her sister taunted, "Your science teacher called..."

"Mr. Foster?"

"Sh! Not so loud! You want Mother to find out?"

"Mr. Foster?" the girl whispered.

"Who? Oh, yes, whatever..."

"Why would he be calling here?"

"He said you don't appear to show any interest."

"I'm...trying," Patti huffed, biting her lip. "Really, I am!"

"He also said something about an upcoming test?"

"Ug! There's _always_ another test..."

"Ah-ha, I knew it! So...there _IS_ a test come Friday!"

"Big deal."

"Well, I...I mean, _he_ wants to make sure you do well!"

"Oh, he does, does he?" The girl slapped her thighs. "How am I going to do that?"

"Just do whatever it takes. You're good at that."

"Say," Patti sneered. "Why the sudden interest in my grades?"

"Oh, no reason," Lynn flounced her flowing hair. "Sure be a shame if Mother found out, though..."

Patti raised an eyebrow. "This wouldn't have anything to do with you sneaking out the other night, would it?"

"One bad turn deserves another, right _snitch_?"

Patti stared at the floor. "Are you gonna tell Mother?"

"Try me."

"You don't get it. You see, my science partner..."

"Patti, I'm _really_ disappointed in you!"

"No, Lynn, you don't understand. This boy—"

"Boys are _all_ the same, lady. You know exactly what to do."

"Oh, if Lynn knew about this one..." Patti muttered, stomping out of her sister's room. "If she _only_ knew!"

* * *

"Sergeant Zany's Show Dogs," the shingle at the road proclaimed. The front door was ajar. Danny poked his snout through the breach and sniffed with trepidation. The air was rich with a buttery aroma. Intrigued, the Irish Setter pup nudged the door open, craning his neck.

"Watch that—"

" _OW!!!_ "

"...Door!"

"Thanks for the warning, clown!" Patti rubbed her throbbing nose. "You were supposed to fix that stupid hinge!"

Patti let the leash go slack. Danny snuffled hairballs tumbling across the floor. The sweet smell grew stronger, taunting his tongue with a creaminess that made him drool.

"Oh, I fixed it, all right!" the clown boasted.

"You're a riot." Patti pointed to a puddle of slobber. "Clean up this mess!"

Euphoric scents of residual pet oils steered the dog's sniffer across the floor and up a chair leg. He hopped into the seat in hot pursuit of felines.

Patti read aloud the sign over the door: "The Sergeant is Out to Lunch."

_Thump, thump, thump!_ Danny's tail applauded in delight. _Thump, thump, thump!_

The girl snickered, sliding the dead bolt in place with a chilling clink. Danny glanced at the overhead sign that now read "Danger Zone!"

"C'mon, ya dumb mutt!" Patti jerked the leash. Danny dug his claws into the vinyl seat and refused to cooperate. "Move it!" The ring leader yanked again, and the chair began to budge.

"Fine, have it your way!"

She retracted the leash – hand over fist – extracting the seat like a loose tooth. The armrest hooked onto a magazine rack. The dog held his position, but the determined girl would not be defeated. Patti dug in her heels and pulled the leash with all her might. Amused, he rode the furniture ferry across the waiting room – chair and magazine rack in tow. The ferry docked at the receptionist's desk.

"We must see the sergeant. She will take care of everything."

"My, my!" the bearded lady chirped. "And, what does this good doggie do?"

"He'll do tricks for me. Wait and see!"

The beast towered over them, rising on his hinds. Waves of hot breath smothered his admirers; his ginormous tongue hung from his mouth, threatening to detach.

The freakish woman handed Patti her whip. "So...what's your latest trick?"

"Oh, boy! You won't want to miss this dog and pony show." Patti chuckled. "I'm getting ole Danny boy neutered!"

"Aah-wooooooo!!!" Danny howled at the top of his lungs. "Woof! Woof! Woof!"

"No, not again, Aggie!" Mr. Ormont pulled the sheets over his head. "I'm exhausted from my trip!"

"Woof! Woof! Woof!"

"Sailors' shenanigans! He be at it somethin' fierce!"

"I should build him a doghouse. Then, we can all get some sleep."

The woman swatted her husband. "Such foolish talk!"

"Now, Aggie...you know my bark is worse than my bite."

Mrs. Ormont grabbed her housecoat and bolted to Danny's room.

Patti retracted the velvety curtain and cracked her whip, "Can't keep the audience waiting!"

The submissive subject slunk into unfamiliar territory. The girl wormed her way through a maze of props, lighting fixtures, microphone booms, and camera dollies – companion in tow.

The sergeant was a towering woman with bleach blond hair that screamed of peroxide punishment. The stray hid behind Patti, whining. The sergeant arranged the props while the debutante sashayed before a full-length mirror. Danny circled three times and rested at the protégé's feet; her menacing whip dangled before his eyes.

The feather-haired clown trucked past. "Better muzzle this one, Sarge. He tends to squeal."

The sergeant handed Patti the muzzle. "What he said."

The ruddy runt growled; a chill shot up his spine. The canine cowered in the corner, but Patti easily trapped him. The dog curled up in a ball; the boy fell asleep in the fetal position.

"I be a-right beside yea." Mum held his hand.

"I am right beside you." Patti squeezed his forepaw.

In her skintight outfit, the girl was dressed to kill. She slipped the muzzle over his snout without a fight. The ring leader and her canine co-star waited in the wings, planning to make a grand entrance. The dog nosed Patti's toys – hapless pets, like Danny, muzzled or harnessed for her amusement.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" The sergeant bowed deeply as the curtain rose. Danny growled at the sound of her voice; his hackles bristled. Playing emcee, the droll woman slaughtered a few jokes. Danny leapt up, and Patti caught his forepaws. He looked deep into her eyes. _Stop the insanity!_ Star-struck, the wide-eyed girl paid no mind.

"...So, without further delay," the hostess concluded, "please welcome the first victim!"

Victim? ...But who?

Patti lured her star performer center stage. The prima donna spun around, cracking her whip. Her assistant froze in the blinding spotlight. Patti was a completely different person. He had never seen her in this light.

"Go on, Danny!" Patti whispered in his ear. "I got a killer act!"

The strong man hoisted the mongrel over his head. The jittery animal squirmed like a deranged monkey. The audience gasped. The boy wriggled across his bed. Locked in a bear hug, forepaws drooped over muscular shoulders. The dog showered the strong man in urine; the child wet the bed. Repulsed, the behemoth dropped the puppy upside down upon the grooming table. The boy collapsed on the bed – all four limbs protruding in the air.

Mum offered her hand. Danny returned the gesture; the dog extended his forepaw. Patti took his paw in friendship and drew near for a kiss. Danny licked her cheek when she clamped wet cotton balls over the dog's snout. _Can't you feel it, Patti?_ _You're hurting the wrong guy..._ Anaesthetized, the canine collapsed on the table; exhausted, the child collapsed on his bed. The audience erupted in applause.

"Hey, boy...have I got your number, or what?" Hastily, she secured the sleeping lummox to the table, maneuvered the nylon constraints over his posterior.

"Patti, why don't you do the honors?" The sergeant handed the girl a knife. Patti lurched, apprehensive to take the bloodstained weapon into her own hands. "Lynn! I _am_ a lady..."

"I insist, the show must go on!...After all, what are sisters for?"

"I suppose..." Patti clenched the knife. "Is this right, Lynn?"

"Why worry about what's right? After all, you're the boss."

"I mean," the ring leader pointed with the blade. "Where should I aim?"

"I really don't care what you do."

"Oh, boy!" Patti lit up a cigarette. "This ought to be a snap!"

"Break a leg, lady!"

The feather-haired clown came from nowhere and circled the stage upon a kiddie-sized fire truck. Circus music filled the air. The crowd clapped in time to the whimsical melody.

"Pay attention!" the sergeant cringed. "Don't embarrass—" The clumsy clown squirted the woman in the face with a seltzer bottle. "Watch it, Bub!"

"It's one for the money, two for the show," Patti crooned. "Three to get ready, and four"

"Do it just like we practiced, lady."

"Hey, I know what I'm doing!" Patti turned her back on her target and lobbed the dagger over her shoulder. The dog's kneecap shattered like glass.

The funny little man drove up and offered the star a bouquet of sanguine roses, stealing a kiss. Danny's mouth exploded with peppermint. Backstage, the strong man stewed with jealousy and blasted a huge fan at the couple. The roses stretched into balloons that sailed to the ceiling. The clown pretended to shoot them down with seltzer, soaking the hysterical audience instead.

"Get on with it," the sergeant fumed. "Shake a leg!"

"Ya know?" Patti clenched another weapon in her cold hand. "Each toss gets easier and easier!"

"Concentrate!"

"Heck, it's not like I'm hurting anybod—" Patti grazed the dog's heart. "Oops!"

"You're playing with fire!" The clown blasted the girl in the face, extinguishing her cigarette. Drenched, the smoldering cigarette sagged in her pursed lips.

The strong man charged the stage, and the clown scurried for shelter. The muscle man swept Patti off her feet. Cradled in his arms, she admired herself in the strong man's mirrored glasses. _Kaboom!_ The cigarette exploded in his face. Pyrotechnics showered the stage, igniting the set. The curtain fell, and lights came up. The audience took to their feet, screaming for more.

"What a stellar ending!" The sergeant stomped out the flames. "You really brought down the house!"

"I'll say. They were swinging from the rafters."

"But damn, lady... You were too soft on him."

"Oh, Sis, I couldn't—"

"Next time, go straight for the kill."

"We got a problem..." Patti glanced down at her victim. "He's different."

"Are you pulling my leg?"

Danny yelped, struggling to raise his weary head. He peered down the muzzle and gazed at Patti with a mournful eye.

"He's different, Lynn! He, he...he breaks the mold."

"You're just setting him up for a big fall."

"No, I can _feel_ it! I can _feel_ it in my bones."

"Nonsense. He's just one more hound in my sister's pound."

"Shush! He'll hear you!"

"Well, he shouldn't eavesdrop. And, so what if he does?"

"Oh, I don't know..." Patti chuckled. "I suppose he'll hit the roof."

"Maybe it'll cut him to the bone."

"You're one lucky dog." The ring leader rubbed his chest. A hairline scratch bloodied her hands. "You caught a lucky break today."

"Ha! He don't know how lucky he is!"

"Whatcha mean, Lynn?"

"Today, a broken leg," the sergeant cackled. "Tomorrow, a broken heart!"

# CHAPTER XVIII

Cat and Mouse

Science Class:

Since the dawn of time, Fridays were notoriously test days. Perhaps teachers took the old adage too literally: _Work before pleasure._

"There's no need to be worried," Danny assured his female friend.

Patti bit her lip. "Easy for you to say."

"Just remember what we discussed in class. Like, our little experiment."

"I only wish it was that simple..."

"Take one and pass the rest along," the teacher instructed. A student groaned in pain. "Class, take your time and think it through. You have all period. Now...does everyone have a test paper?" His students nodded, meekly. "Then, you may begin. Keep your eyes on your own paper."

A hush fell over the class. Young brains chewed on challenging, multiple choice questions. Some preferred the term "multiple guess." Patti read the first question. She read it ten times, but the words might as well have been written in a foreign language. The girl perused the page, equally lost. Patti kept her head down. Pencil in hand, she pretended to slave away.

She glanced over at her studious neighbor. Engrossed, Danny sat hunched over his answer sheet. The dismayed girl sighed, watching her classmates' brains churn. She peeked at her watch. Fifteen minutes had already passed. Her heart raced the clock. The pressure ballooned with each painful, passing minute. It was now or never.

The girl bumped her desk. A pencil rolled before Danny's feet. She cleared her throat, grabbing Danny's attention. He looked at her, puzzled. She pointed to the ground, mouthing _pencil_. Leaving his paper unguarded, he scrunched down and trapped the pencil under foot.

"Great! Let's see, A-C-E-B-D..." Patti jotted. "A-B-E..."

Danny smiled sheepishly at the girl, returning her pencil.

Patti flipped to the next set of questions. "Now what?" Every second ticked away with her heart pounding in her ears. She drummed her fingers on the desk. Tiny beads of perspiration glossed her upper lip. _Eight questions down, seventeen to go._

She twirled a lock of hair, staring blindly into space. Her blank look mirrored her answer sheet. _Did Mother expect miracles?_ Poised to write again, a new trick dawned on her. Patti's face lit up. She slipped her hand under the desk and squeezed Danny's knee.

_Zing-ding!_ Danny's heart skipped a beat. _Zing-ding!_ He shot straight up and swooned.

Patti batted her eyes allowing her to snitch more answers. "C-B-D-A..."

"Eyes on your own paper, Mr. Ormont."

Patti shielded her answers.

"Yes, sir..."

" _Woooooooo!_ "

"Silence, class!"

Patti wore a devilish grin. "This is easier than I imagined."

_Concentrate, darn it!_ Danny scolded himself. _Focus on the test and only the test._ The boy ran his hands through his hair. _True or false,_ Danny asked himself. _Unlike the earth, the moon does not rotate._ His heart was still reeling from his little vixen's love tap.

"Ten minute warning!"

Patti climbed the walls. Tapping her pencil, she eyed Danny to check his progress. But, boy wonder was floating on air. Daydreaming, he arched his back – hands clasped behind his head.

"The fool's lost in space!" She panicked. "Maybe I overdid it?" The girl bit her nails, waiting for him to recover from her magical spell. "C'mon, Danny," she muttered. "Down, boy, down!"

Moon does not rotate...does not rotate...does not rotate...

The teacher snuck up from behind, hands cupped to mouth, and blurted, "You won't find the answers up there, Galileo!"

Everyone jumped in surprise. The gravity of those words zapped Danny back to earth. His chair legs slapped the hard floor, jolting the gears in his head back into operation. Patti watched him as he attacked the remaining questions.

_Question 18..._ Danny's mind was on vacation. _Moon does not rotate? True._

"Good boy, Danny." Patti was perched, pencil at the ready. "One more trick oughta do it!"

Appearing studious, she slumped over her desk, inching her foot towards Danny's.

_Weeeeeeee!_ Patti stroked Danny's ankle, and his heart melted. The hairs of his neck stood on end. Danny shot love darts into her eyes. She smiled, discreetly scrawling the remaining answers.

"Mr. Daniel Ormont! See me after class!" The room exploded into a tempest of ridicule and laughter. "Time's up!" the teacher announced. "Turn in your test papers; class dismissed."

Patti collected her books and tapped Danny on the shoulder. "Call me!" she winked, stuffing a note into his hand. "Promise you'll call me tonight?"

Danny stared at her in disbelief. "I promise, but..." It was too late. Patti spun around and walked away. Chained to his desk, he watched the girl prance out of the classroom – scot-free.

"Ok, let's have it," Mr. Foster ordered, once the room has cleared.

"What did I do?" Danny dropped his head, afraid to face his teacher.

"I believe it's called...cheating? At least, that's what I'd call it."

The boy fought back the tears. "I wasn't cheating."

"Then, why did I find your eyes on Patti's paper?"

The lad shuffled his foot, fishing for an explanation. He could not even fabricate an alibi. Nothing could explain his behavior. "I don't know..."

"Danny, you know this stuff. Why would you cheat?"

"I wasn't cheating – honest!"

"Just for fun, let's compare answer sheets, shall we?"

"Hmmm..." Mr. Foster rooted through the stack of papers removing both Patti's and Danny's answer sheets. "Ah-ha!" He held them side by side, aligning the numbered problems for quick comparison. "They look identical to me, young man....And, what's this?" Mr. Foster was shocked. "You both got Question 18 wrong?"

Danny's heart fell to his feet. "What was Question 18?"

"Unlike the earth, the moon does not rotate."

"Why, that's false!" Danny laughed. "Remember?...I even proved it to the class!"

"Then, why did you put _true?_ "

"I didn't, I-I-I..." The teacher showed Danny his answer sheet.

"And, Patti got it wrong, too!" Mr. Foster snapped. "This proves you cheated!"

"If you'll just let me explain..."

"You can't explain! Obviously, you copied _her_ wrong answer!"

_Patti, are ya there?_ Danny sensed his spirit drifting faraway. His voice rattled in his skull like pennies in a jar. _I can't find you..._

"Danny?...Danny, did you hear a single word I said?"

_Don't reply!_ Me said. _Grumps can't understand my feelings._

"I demand an explanation, or it'll be that much worse for you."

_Is Mr. Foster like all the rest?_ Danny stared at the floor.

I am deeply disappointed in you, young man. I depended on you."

... _Danny, help meeeeee!_

"And, to think I was just singing your praises to Mrs. Fishbine."

_Keep your dreams alive. Patti needs me._ Me cried. _Never sell her out._

The apprentice locked eyes with his mentor. "...Mr. Foster?"

"Do you have something you wish to tell me?"

"I can't lie to you," Danny sulked. "I-I-I cheated. I admit it."

Morning Recess:

"What's with you today?" Andy grilled his sullen friend. "You sure don't seem like yourself."

"It's not my day..."

"I'll say. Did you think your antics would impress Patti?"

" _My_ antics? Didn't you see what she was doing?"

"What do you mean?...What was she doing?"

"Never mind."

"So, what punishment did Mr. Foster give you?"

"He's going to let my parents decide."

The two boys sat in silence under a steel gray sky. The wind whistled through the bare branches, mocking the naked oak. Cheers from the kickball field magnified Danny's depression.

"Smells like snow," Andy whirled his yo-yo through a battery of tricks in the crisp air. His partner did not respond. The distraught boy rested his chin on the back of the bench, staring blindly at the kickball game. Mr. Foster's parting words were branded on his brain. The scolding chilled Danny more than the autumn gales. _How could I win the admiration of my favorite teacher one moment only to lose it the next?_

"How did things turn out so wrong?" Danny broke into a chuckle. "Although..."

"What's so funny?"

"It wasn't a total waste."

"What do you mean?"

"I got Patti's phone number!"

"How'd you manage that?"

"I just, uh, that is, you see... Aw, heck. She just gave it to me."

"Well, she sure picked a weird time."

"I guess the time was right. It's a sign of better things to come."

"People always say that, but how can you be so sure?"

"Because I can _feel_ it."

"Yeah? And, did you ever stop to think it may be a bad sign?"

"Nonsense! Something tells me this is all meant to be."

"Be careful, Mouse," Andy cautioned. "Mark Parks might just feel the same way."

Reading Class:

The afternoon started with Reading, which meant tolerating Mrs. Fishbine. Of course, the children tolerated Mrs. Fishbine like new sailors tolerating sea sickness.

"Quickly class," the teacher bossed, hands on hips. "Be seated." The students hustled into the room and took their seats in a systematic fashion.

"If she wore cowboy boots," Danny muttered, "she could run for sheriff." Patti smiled in agreement.

"As you know," the woman began. "Today marks the last day of your punishment."

Some boys clapped and hooted in approval of the long-awaited news. Mrs. Fishbine peered down her pointed nose in disgust. "I trust we have all learned something from this experience?"

"And, what have you learned, Mrs. Fishbine?"

"Andrew Drewer! Go keep that corner company for the period!"

"...Not much, I see," the critic groaned, marching to the wall.

"Everyone, sit up!" the teacher demanded. The class sprang to attention. "Now then, where was I? Oh yes..." The students held their breath, fearing the worst. "There is a nasty rumor going around that I am a nice person." The children snorted in pain, stifling their laughter. "Now, I don't know how this got started, but I assure you it is not true." The class did not blink. "Despite this rumor," Mrs. Fishbine continued. "I have exciting news to share." The class groaned.

"Here it comes," Danny muttered. "The other shoe is about to drop."

"Traditionally, the sixth grade holds a talent show come the end of the year," she said.

The children were intrigued. The news melted scowls into smiles. Many applauded with delight. Neighbors chattered, and the classroom was electrified.

"QUIET!!!" Mrs. Fishbine stomped her foot like banging a gavel. A hush tore across the classroom like a riptide racing up the shore. "I'm confident each of you possess a hidden talent. So, I want you all to put forth your best..."

Chipper children drowned her words. All were elated – except for Danny. There he sat, puzzled by the jubilant glow radiating from his classmates. Deep inside, he was absolutely terrified. _Talent show?_ Danny loathed the words. _What talent do I have?_

"Now, class!" Mrs. Fishbine slapped her desk. "Curb your enthusiasm!" Her words were wasted, but her body language instilled fear. Warbles of conversation dissolved into silence. "Students may perform in small groups if you so desire."

Across the room, a hand surfaced.

"Yes, Judith?"

"Will there be prizes?"

"Prizes will be awarded for the three best performances."

A hand flapped furiously before Mrs. Fishbine's face. "Goodness, Bill—" Mrs. Fishbine snapped. "What is it, _William?_ "

"Who will be the judges?"

"Actually, there will be three judges," she snarled. "Me, myself, and I." The class groaned at her words. "Just my little joke," the woman chuckled.

"Very little..."

Mrs. Fishbine ignored the rude remark without skipping a beat. "Actually, the judges are Mr. Foster, Mrs. Hastings, and myself. Are there any other questions?"

Danny raised a hand. "What if we have no talent?" The modest boy's confession was attacked by blasts of laughter.

"Don't be silly, Daniel..."

"Danny! It's Danny!"

"Cleaning erasers is an excellent talent," the teacher frowned. "Wouldn't you agree, _Daniel?_ "

"You still didn't answer my question."

"Did I not make myself clear? Participation is mandatory."

The deflated boy collapsed in his seat as if he had been handed a death sentence. He had no idea what kind of act he could pull together. Then, he stared at Patti. _She's taking this all quite calmly_. Unfazed, the girl relaxed, hands folded in her lap. Danny berated himself. _I bet she's already cooking up something terrific..._

"The success of this talent show rests in your hands," the teacher warned. Someone emitted a low whistle. "By the way, absolutely no class time will be allotted."

"But, Mrs. Fishbine..."

"Case closed. Take out your Readers and copy, copy, copy!"

The shuffle of papers rented the air as the girls and boys put pencil to paper for the final installment of their punishment. Danny spied Patti removing a lilac pencil and a sheet of paper from her orchid notebook. _...Just as dainty as she is._

Not a whisper was heard. Graphite styluses squeaked and scratched against hard laminate, etching curled paths across blank paper. Danny opened his Reader and began the mundane task of copying the printed word.

"Psst! _PSST!!!_ " Danny did not respond. "Et-ah-hem!" Patti coughed, deliberately clearing her throat. Danny lifted his head and discovered a crumpled ball of paper resting by the corner of his notebook. "Read the note!" she mouthed, pointing to the ball.

"What?"

Patti's scowled, _Could he really be so dense?_ "Read it!" she mouthed, pointing again.

Danny swiftly swiped the little ball off the table. Burying his hands in his lap, he carefully unfolded the note. "You will call me tonight, won't you?" the note read in a curly cursive.

"Yes. Here's my number, too." Danny squeezed his reply onto the back of the tiny scrap as neatly as he could. He crumpled the note back into a little ball. Danny looked to see what Mrs. Fishbine was doing. Surely, he did not want to tangle with her. The woman sat at her desk engrossed in some reading material. Eying the teacher, Danny tossed the note across the desk. It landed a little short, but still within Patti's reach.

The girl snatched the note and read it with an expressionless face. Hastily, she scrawled a reply and tossed the note haphazardly back at Danny without any fear of being caught. "That's not important," Patti wrote. "Just promise you _will_ call me tonight."

_Not important?_ Danny's stomach twisted into knots. _Why in the world would she say that?_

The boy licked his wounds, relishing in the thought of calling her. He was elated to share these secret notes, and Danny wanted to prolong the correspondence. He tore the corner of his paper and placed it atop his open notebook. He slid his chair in close and slouched over the desk. "I promise I will call you," he wrote. "Any thoughts for the talent show?"

As before, he crumpled the note and studied Mrs. Fishbine for a spell. When he felt all was safe, he tossed the note in Patti's direction. But, the ball slipped from his fingers prematurely and hit Patti in the face. Someone giggled at the comical sight.

Did Mrs. Fishbine see me?

Patti scooped the note into her hand the instant the teacher looked to see what was so amusing. Patti shot Danny a dirty look with a piercing stare. Her angry eyes hid the familiar sparkle he so loved. Patti held the note in her lap. The sly girl waited for the teacher to return to her affairs. She scratched a reply and lobbed the note towards her pen pal. Again, more giggles.

The note came to rest in the center of the aisle, fully exposed and beyond Danny's reach. Desperate, he stretched his body to the extreme without falling out of his seat. He trapped the tiny scrap under his foot, and...

"Sit up, Daniel!"

The boy straightened his posture. Wriggling in his seat, he dragged the message toward him and scooped the note into his lap. "Don't know, don't care." He was chilled by Patti's callous reply. "But, you have to!" Danny scribbled. Light chuckles filled the classroom as more spectators took interest in the volleyed responses.

"She can't make me!"

"Be my partner?"

"NO WAY!"

Danny's stomach squeezed like a vice. The crestfallen boy kicked himself. Had he assumed too much? Danny hoped to smooth things over.

"I'm worried about you."

"Don't worry about me!" Patti fired the note directly at him and beaned Danny on the forehead. The spectators roared.

"Daniel Ormont!" Mrs. Fishbine bellowed. "Read that note out loud!"

"I d-d-don't think so..."

"I don't care what _you_ think." Mrs. Fishbine snapped. "Read your love note to the class!"

_Woo-hoo!_ Some boys hooted like a train whistle.

Danny glanced at Patti for support. Aloof, the girl rummaged through her purse.

"Come now, Daniel! The class is waiting!"

Danny arose beside his seat and slowly unfolded the tattered clump of paper. "It says: ' _Fishbine has no spine!_ '" Danny declared. "Are ya happy now?" The class burst into rounds, chanting this catchy slogan.

"Let me see that!" The woman snatched the slip of paper from his grasp. "It does, indeed." Mrs. Fishbine seethed. "And, in your handwriting!"

" _Whaaat?_ " Danny did a double take. "Can I see that?"

"Suit yourself," the teacher said, presenting the note. The boy could not believe his eyes. Indeed, these very words appeared to have been written by Danny. Somehow, in the frantic exchange of notes, Patti had managed to emulate Danny's printing style.

"I never wrote...I mean... Tell her, Patti!"

The unshaken girl sat there, beaming like the cat who ate the canary. "Tell her what, Mouse?"

"Don't you dare blame that innocent girl!" Mrs. Fishbine defended. "Go stand in the corner!"

"But, she..."

"Be quiet!"

Danny rose, avoiding eye contact with everyone as he lumbered towards Andy's corner.

"Hold it, Daniel... Not that corner, _that_ corner! The class giggled. "Perhaps a phone call home will prove just as humorous."

Danny took his post at the near corner, and the class settled down. The boy bided his time, fidgeting from one foot to the other. The instant Mrs. Fishbine faced the blackboard, Danny whipped around and glowered at Patti through watery eyes. She batted her eyelashes at him.

"CALL ME!" she mouthed through her big grin.

* * *

That evening, the atmosphere was volatile at the Ormont dinner table. Danny sensed that even one word from him could spark an explosion so great, only a crater would remain where the house stood. Staring into his bowl, he slurped at his soup as if it were his last meal. He sat with a bowed down head, praying for a quick and painless execution.

"It will all be over in a flash," Danny muttered. "This is just to fatten me up."

Silently, his parents partook of the appetizer, as well.

"...quick and painless..." Danny hoped. "Like a lamb to the slaughter."

"A funny thing happened today, Danny," Mr. Ormont salted his soup. The boy's face went pale. "It seems my wonderful son..." his father paused, drawing a taste to his lips. "Has become the most popular boy in school. My son, the ace student!" Danny could barely face his soupy reflection let alone face his parents. "He's an overnight sensation." Mr. Ormont tossed his hands in the air. "Seems the teachers can't say enough!" Danny waited for his father to end his antics. "Suddenly, the phone is ringing off the hook!" The man clenched his chest, shocked.

"Dad, I..."

"So, I figure I must be some great father!" His chest heaved with pride. "I tell Mum they must be calling to praise our son!" For an instant, his father sat in silence as if he were at a loss for words. Danny knew it was the calm before the storm. "First, they say my self-proclaimed, no-talent son is a natural born comedian."

"Dad, please..."

"Then, the phone rings again!" his father gushed. "How much more praise can I stand?"

"C'mon, stop it, will ya?"

"Next, they inform me how my son's going to be a great scholar!"

" _Daaa-aad!!!_ "

"Great scholar? Ha! Great cheater!"

"It's not whatcha think..."

"I want to hear the truth!" Mr. Ormont shook both fists at Danny.

"I _am_ telling you the truth!"

"I don't want to hear it!"

"Listen, Dad...will ya listen? It's not like that, I tell ya. It's not like that at all!"

"You can't fool me! I'm not blind!"

The hurt look his father wore was too much to bear. Danny burst into a torrent of tears.

"Has the very devil himself crawled into you? Answer me!"

"No, Dad, I swear..." Danny bawled. "I don't know what's happening!"

Mrs. Ormont stroked Danny's neck.

"Damn it, Aggie, leave the boy alone!"

"One minute everything is fine, and then..."

"We're gonna get to the bottom of this!" his father bellowed. " _TO-NIGHT!!!_ "

"Dad, I swear it's like... She just does these things to me!"

" _She?_ " Mum asked, concerned. "Who she be, dear?"

"Patti!!!" Danny hid his face in his hands. "Oh, God! Help me!"

His father was astounded. "How in heaven's name is this possible?"

"I don't know what I'm doing when I'm around her!"

"I admit, I felt the same way when I was dating your mother..."

"No, Dad, it's not the same thing! She's _very_ different!"

"Different? Don't be silly. She's _just_ a girl."

All the while, Mum sat there weighing the evidence.

"No, I swear..." Danny gasped between crying spells. "She's driving me crazy!"

"Denny?" Mum dared to ask. "Be she the one? Yea know, dear... _yer_ Patti?"

" _YES!!!_ " Danny blurted as if confessing to the crime of the century. "Without a doubt."

"Then, yea stay far away from that one." Mum's words sliced her son's heart in two.

"No, Mum, I cannot stay away."

"Denny, Denny... There'll be so many others."

" _Noooooooo!!!_ " Danny howled. He sprang to his feet, knocking his chair backwards.

"Lad, try to understand. 'Tis what be best..."

"Now hear this! Nothing, but nothing, will keep me away from Patti!"

"We forbid you to have anything to do with that girl!"

"You cannot stop me!" Danny righted his seat. "Got it?"

"Enough!" His father slammed the table. "Your parents have spoken!" Danny planted both elbows on the table, buried his face in his hands, and wept uncontrollably. "Monday morning, Patti is off limits, is that clear?"

"I'm afraid that will be impossible," Danny glowered at his father.

Mr. Ormont's nostrils flared. "And, why is that?"

"Because she is my science partner, and—"

"You will ask the teacher to find you a new partner."

"And, she sits next to me in Reading..."

"Then, you will ask the teacher to move your seat."

Danny crossed his arms across his chest. "I will do no such thing!"

"If you disobey me, then I will do it for you!"

"Have yea lost yer senses, lad? Can't yea see 'tis for the best?"

"Don't ruin this for me," Danny begged. He dried his eyes, pushed back his chair, and rose to his feet. "Can I please be excused?"

"This discussion is not over!"

Danny raced to the stairs in a fit of tears. "It is now!"

"Just where do you think you're going, mister?" His father's voice grew hoarse.

"I am going to call Patti!" Danny jeered. "Even prisoners are entitled to one phone call!"

# CHAPTER XIX

Tag, You're It!

"Sunday is your father's birthday."

"So?"

"So, don't make any plans."

"We'll see..."

"He'd like to see you, Patti."

"When is it?"

"Sunday. At noon."

"We'll see..."

"Can't you spare him some time?"

"Since when do you care?"

"I don't," Mother admitted. "In fact, I'm not even going to be there."

"Ha! But, I should?"

"Well, he is your father, and he does send you gifts."

"Big deal!"

"Listen, if you play nice now, you can play him for a fool later."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means if you play your cards right, you can get anything you want out of him."

"We'll see..."

"Patti, we need the money."

"What are you saying?"

"Nice things don't come cheap."

"So what?"

"Everything costs more these days, Patti."

"We'll manage."

"If he sees you, he'll send more money, understand?"

"Does he _really_ think he can buy my affections?"

"You don't get it, do you? We need the money!"

"Why? So you can blow it all on your booze?"

_Smack!_ Mother's hand flew across Patti's face. The girl glowered, rubbing her cheek. "Don't think I don't know you've been dipping, too."

"That's a big fat lie!"

"Then, why does my vodka taste more and more like water?"

"Maybe your taste buds need to sober up!"

_Smack!_ Patti winced. The same cheek took another blow. "Don't lie to me, Patti," Mother shook her daughter's shoulders.

"You've taught me a little _too_ well, Mother!"

"Save your lies for your boyfriends!"

"Yes, Mother."

"After all, I am the only one you can trust."

"Yes, Mother..."

"Do me this one little favor, and we'll get along swimmingly."

Patti gazed up at her mother in admiration. "Like the bestest of friends?"

"Like sisters," Mother assured. "Why, Sis, I'll even consider raising your allowance."

"Really?" Patti cheered. "Then, I'll consider being at Dad's party."

* * *

"Lynn?" Patti knocked on the bedroom door. "Lynn, Can I come in?"

"What, snitch?" her sister snapped, cracking open the door. "Make it quick."

"Whatcha doing tonight?"

"Me and the gang's gonna take an excursion."

"Can I come? We need to talk..."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"I'll tell Mom..."

"All right, I guess so..."

"What's the matter? You don't sound so sure."

"I'd like you to come, but Stinger ain't too cool about your boyfriend, Skippy."

" _Boyfriend?_ " Patti laughed. "Who?...Reb?"

"Reb, Shrub, Grub...whatever."

"He ain't my boyfriend."

"Ok, so you want to play that game, huh?"

"He ain't my boyfriend!"

"Oooooh...touchy, touchy!"

"Shut your trap! Quit nosin' into my business!"

"That's my Patti!" Lynn laughed. "Just playing the field, huh?"

"Well, can he come or not?"

"Reb was feeling too froggy last time....Bugging Stinger and all."

"Damn, Lynn..."

"Just keep that boy of yours on a short leash."

"Hey, I can handle Reb!"

"Make sure ya do."

"Since when do you let a guy tell _you_ the score?"

"Since I stopped doggin' Stinger, ok? I don't need Reb blowin' nothing."

"No worries there."

"Peachy!" her sister cheered. "I'll talk to Stinger."

"Peachy!" Patti mimicked. "And, I'll work over Reb."

"Oh, I almost forgot. If Reb plays it cool with Stinger tonight, there's a party on Sunday."

"Sunday? Sundays ain't for partyin'. Sundays is for restin'..."

"When did that ever stop you? Party at noon, rest at night. Ya in or not?"

"If I can swing it....I'll let ya know."

* * *

"This is crazy," the nervous child mumbled. He sat alone in the dark on the corner of his parents' bed, staring at the telephone. "It's so much easier to talk to her in class," Danny whispered. _Why do I feel so scared?_ "This is my moment of glory, and still..."

An incessant clock ticked away, announcing each passing second. _Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick..._

"What do I say to her?" His anxiety mounted. _Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick..._ "How do I talk to a girl?" _Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick..._ "What's wrong with me?"

The shy one remembered Debbie and how carefree life once was. He never feared talking to a girl. On the other hand, he had never called a girl on the telephone. This certainly was a personal milestone and a monumental step in his relationship with Patti. His heart raced; his palms drenched with sweat. "But, this isn't just _any_ girl. It's Patti, and she's waiting for _my_ call."

Danny rested a hand on the phone. _Just place the call...no big deal._ He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath. _Just one stupid phone call..._ He lifted the receiver just high enough to hear the inviting hum of the dial tone and dropped the phone as if the coiled wire were a venomous snake.

He peered out the window. In the distance, the wind harassed the bare treetops. Popcorn clouds checkered the western sky. The sun's golden grasp slipped off the rooftops. In the waning light, something glistened in the corner of the boy's eye. Danny traced a sunbeam to a glinting picture frame on the nightstand beside him. He lifted the picture and drew it near. It was a portrait of his parents. The happy couple looked so natural together in each other's arms. He gazed into the eyes of that gallant young man, wondering if his father once shared these same fears. His thoughts began to wander down the annals of time.

"How do couples meet, anyhow? Where does it all begin?" He restored the picture to its rightful place. The boy turned his gaze back toward the window. The winds had whipped the popcorn clouds into puffs of cotton. Perhaps for the first time, Danny witnessed how such fragile forms were soon lost forever. "I wonder how the winds are shaping my relationship with Patti..." Taking a lesson from the clouds, he realized he could not afford to wait.

"Do I tell her how much I like her _before_ or _after_ I accuse her of cheating?" The glum child reflected upon his maddening day at school – and the dinner table. _What's the worst that could happen?_ He couldn't chicken now. Grinning ear-to-ear, his heart swelled with delight. His mind was set; he was going to call Patti!

"I should write down my thoughts," the boy thought, spying a notepad. "So, I won't stumble on my words." He took the notepad and jotted down some ideas. In a short while, he was fully prepared, and gripped the receiver with confidence.

"Nothing can stop me!" At that very instant, the phone rang. Danny jumped sky-high. "Hello?"

"Did you call her yet?"

"No, I..."

"Is it a date?"

"Well, you see..."

"How much trouble are you in?" Andy jabbered. "Are you grounded?"

"They said..."

"Are you suspended?"

"Cool it, will ya?" Danny bossed. "Take a deep breath."

"C'mon, man. Spill the juice!"

"I haven't had the chance to call her yet, okay?"

"No way!"

"And, my parents want me to stay away from her."

"Get out!"

"They want me to change science partners and everything..."

"That's terrible."

"Yeah, well, it ain't gonna happen. Not if I can help it."

"So, what's your punishment?"

"I think they're still deciding."

"Geez, that's the worst kind of punishment!"

"Why?"

"Because you never know what's coming and when."

"Thanks for the comforting thought."

"Will you be in school on Monday?"

"As far as I know."

"Boy, things are certainly getting weird."

"How so?"

"Whatever started with Mark has spread to you. It's like she's got fleas!"

"Don't say that!"

"Sorry."

"Look, Andy...I gotta go."

"Good luck, pal! See ya Monday?"

"...Assuming I live through this weekend," Danny sighed, hanging up the phone.

* * *

The phone rang once at Patti's home where Mother lounged on the sofa. Engrossed in an evening soap opera, she ignored the unwelcomed intrusion.

"Aren't you going to answer it?"

The phone rang twice.

"Never rush, Patti," Mother explained. "Always wait for the third ring."

The phone rang once more.

"Hello?" a peeved voice grunted.

"Hello, uh, Mrs. Connor?...Is, uh, Patti there?"

Mrs. Connor winked at Patti. "No, she's not here at the moment."

"Oh... Do you know when she'll be back?"

"I have no idea. You'll just have to keep trying." And with that, the woman slammed the receiver.

"Patti, darling...your science teacher called."

"I'm not buyin' it, Mother! Not this time..."

"This time?"

"Did Lynn say he called?"

"Why would he call Lynn?"

"Well, I didn't do it!"

"Do what?"

"Whatever he called about..."

"Relax, he called to congratulate you!" Mother beamed. "You got the highest test score!"

"Oh, boy!"

"I knew _we_ could do it," Mother hugged her daughter. "I am so proud!"

"Actually, my science partner is superterrific."

"Really, Patti..." Mother rolled her eyes. "How trite."

Just then, the phone rang. Patti reached for the receiver, and Mother slapped Patti's hand. The phone rang a second time, unacknowledged. Patti shook her hand, erasing the penalizing sting. The phone rang a third time.

"Hello?"

"Uh... Sorry to bother you again."

"Oh, it's no bother," Mrs. Connor sneered.

Patti tugged on her mother's sleeve. "Who is it?"

Mother clamped a hand over the mouthpiece. "Why, I think it's your class pet, missy."

"Sh! Mother, please...he'll hear you."

"Should I tell him you're out?"

"Give me that!" Patti demanded, grabbing the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hi, Patti. Can ya talk?"

"Yup..."

"My folks are plenty mad at me."

"Oh? How come?"

"Mr. Foster thinks I cheated on that science test."

"No way!...Did you?"

"Patti, are you joking?" Danny cried. "You know full well I didn't."

"So why would Mr. Foster think you did?"

"Because I was trapped into confessing."

"Were you feeling guilty?"

"No, Patti..." Danny raised his voice. "I was covering for you!"

"Covering for me?"

"Yeah, you heard me."

"What did I do? You were just dumb enough to get caught!" Danny ignored her insensitive remarks and continued to grill her.

"What did you think you were doing during the test?"

"Can I help it if I get nervous?"

"You didn't have to squeeze my knee!"

"And, _you_ didn't have to enjoy it!"

"Do you know how much trouble I'm in because of you?"

"Well...better you than me,"

"I've protected you this time, Patti..."

"You protected _me?_ "

"I took the blame for your cheating."

"Me?...Cheating? How dare you say that!"

"Well, you did!"

"Ha! I did no such thing. After all, I _am_ a lady."

"Spare me, Patti... What's up with you, anyway?"

"You're just mad you got caught trying to look at my paper!"

"Patti, I even managed to get the moon question wrong."

"What can I say? You're just very bad at cheating."

"But, I _knew_ that! I taught _you_ that one, remember?"

"Fess up, Mouse...you blew it."

"Aw, just forget it." There was an uneasy silence. Danny realized he could not win this argument. "So...what was up with your little notes?"

"What about the notes?"

"You didn't have to send 'em!"

"Well, you didn't have to enjoy flirting with me!"

"You could have been more careful, that's all..."

"Hey, don't tell me what to do!"

"Look, I really don't want to fight with you, ok?"

"Say, why'd you call me, anyhow?"

"It wasn't my idea!" Danny huffed. "Besides, you could have called me, ya know."

"Well, I _am_ a lady," Patti touted. "And, Mother says the boy _always_ does the calling."

"Does that mean you like me?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

Again, silence.

"Patti...I need to know something."

"What is it?"

Danny took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and bit the bullet. "I heard this rumor," Danny quavered. "D-d-do you _really_ like Mark Parks best?"

"Mark?" Patti chuckled. "He's such a lizard!"

Wait a second... Those were my exact words!

"So (gulp) who _do_ you like best?"

"I like you, Danny!" Patti winked. "I was just telling Mother you are _sooo_ smart..."

"Well, uh, Patti... Can we study together?"

"No. I don't think so."

"...Are you studying with Mark?"

"No!"

"Then, are you studying with someone else?"

"Maybe..."

"Patti, will you _pleeeeease_ come study with me?"

"Why is it so important to you?"

"Because, I...I... I'm worried about you."

"Mouse, listen up! No one _ever_ worries about me! Got it?"

"Fine! I won't!"

"I can take care of myself, understand?"

"Ok, ok! So, while I'm not worrying," Danny demanded, "you just think about this, _lady_."

"What is it?"

"Who ya gonna cheat off of once all your boyfriends are expelled?"

More silence. Patti was dumbfounded. She hung on the line, stewing. _He's right..._ She bit her lip. _The cheating game won't last forever._

"Well? Answer me! You owe me that much."

" _Boyfriend???_ " Patti growled. "I never said you were my boyfriend!"

Her words sliced Danny's heart. A tear ran down his cheek. "Ok, have it your way! Come study with your _un-boyfriend!_ "

"Well... I didn't say you _weren't_ my boyfriend, either."

"You can't have it both ways, Patti!"

"Who says I can't?"

"Geez, I wish you'd make up your mind."

"Why should I?"

"Because you're driving me absolutely nuts!" the boy screamed, fighting back the tears.

"Daniel Ormont! A lady needs time to think about such things."

Danny dropped the phone, slapping his forehead repeatedly.

"Yoo-hoo? Danny?...Are ya there?"

"Maybe I should go study with...with...Cheryl!" Danny recovered.

_Damn you, Danny Ormont! You're more clever than I figured._ "Be at the library Sunday at noon...understand?"

"Hey, what changed—" _CLICK!!!_ Patti hung up without saying goodbye. "What the heck just happened here?" Danny rubbed his temples. A headache was coming on.

Patti stood beside the phone, brooding. "Of course!" she gasped. "He was just bluffing! Why didn't I call his bluff?" She dropped onto the sofa and pouted. "Now, what do I do? Still, it might pay to keep him around... That's it!" The sly girl snapped her fingers and laughed. "Thank you, Mouse! You make the perfect bait!"

"Is everything all right, my darling?" Mother asked, glued to the television.

"Oh, boy!" Patti giggled. "It just keeps getting better and better!"

Sliding across the couch, she snuggled close to Mother when a commercial came on TV.

"Say, I meant to ask..." Mother eyed Patti with suspicion. "Will you be able to keep your grades up?"

"Certainly, Mother...in fact, I just bought me some insurance!"

Mother hugged her daughter. "That's my precious girl!"

"Now, you give me a lift to the library on Sunday at noon, and I'll..."

"Wait a minute..." Mother growled. "We agreed you're gonna see your father!"

"But, Mother! Aren't my grades more important?" The telephone rang, and Patti stormed into the kitchen.

"Look, don't try to weasel out of this, Patti..." The second ring passed. "If that's your little pet again, you just tell him to forget all about Sunday!"

"Hello?" On cue, Patti grabbed the phone after the third ring.

"Hey, what's shaking, babe?"

"Oh, it's _only_ you..." _Geez, what is it with these boys?_ "What do you want, Mark?"

"Hey, that's no way to treat your jail bird."

"I can't talk right now..."

"Yeah, right, sure...whatever. Look, I just wanted to ask..."

"Spit it out already!"

"Do you still like me, or what?"

"Mark, you lizard, you messed up everything!"

"Hey, girl, you still owe me!"

"Oh, boy!" Patti groaned. "Give me a break!"

"Don't give me your stuff!"

"Better run, Mark. The museum's lookin' for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're history, clown!"

"Is that so?" Mark growled. "Well, I'm not through with you!"

"Sorry, game over."

"We'll see about that."

"End of the line, clown!"

"Who is _he_ , Patti?"

"Oh, just someone from class..."

"You just tell ole whats-his-face, he better watch out!"

"You know, Mark, I've missed you. I can't wait to see ya in class, Monday."

"Really? I swear, sometimes, I don't get you."

"Sure! So, you can tell him yourself!" Patti hung up without saying goodbye.

"Did you put your pet back in his cage?"

"Yes, Mother... Just leave everything to me!"

"Good! Now, be sure to—"

But, Patti slipped down the hall and stole into Lynn's bedroom. "I got it made in the shade."

"Peachy. I explained the deal to Stinger. He ain't too thrilled, but..." Lynn said. "Just keep your end of the bargain."

"Real keen, Lynn!"

"Great! Now, here's what's shakin' Sunday..."

* * *

Danny sat in the vacant bedroom taunted by Patti's words spinning in his head. "Things certainly did not go as I had hoped." He gazed out the window. The weary sun kissed the earth goodnight, and the sky blushed. The days were appreciably shorter now. The encroaching shadows made the boy feel like a forgotten toy. "At what age does it get any easier?" He stared longingly at his parents' portrait once more. "I suppose I won't live that long..."

Outside, the puff balls stretched into a dismal cloud bank silhouetted by the terminal twinkle of twilight. _If gray clouds are just darkened, white clouds..._ he reasoned. _If her no means yes..._

"Hey! It's our first date!" He jumped, startled by the sound of his own voice. "...Sorta. After all, she _did_ agree to meet me at the library!"

The excited boy grabbed the phone, dialing in haste. "Andy?" Danny whispered, struggling to contain himself. "You won't believe what I'm doing Sunday!"

Danny paused, allowing Andy to recover from the shock of his big news.

"That's great, but...will your parents let you?"

"Will my parents let me? They won't even know she'll be there!"

"Get off the phone!" Mr. Ormont bellowed from downstairs. "And, get to your room!"

"I better go, Andy....Wish me luck."

"I'll do better than that," Andy said. "I'll find you a good lawyer!"

# CHAPTER XX

Hot Times

"Mother, I'm leaving!" Patti shouted, halfway out the door. "Don't wait up!"

"Whatever..."

"See, Lynn, what'd I tell ya?" The youth strolled off with her older sibling. "She don't even bother to ask."

"Figures. She's in her own little world."

"I can sneak out anytime I like."

"So could I – if I didn't have to worry about _someone_ snitching on me all the time.

"You don't have to sneak," Patti griped. "You're big enough to do whatever you want.

"Not totally. I still have to be careful whenever Mother sobers up."

"Anyways, you got it good compared to me," Patti frowned. "I wish I was big..."

"You forget you got Mother wrapped around your little finger," Lynn said. "Lucky squirt, getting' all the attention.

"Ha! She don't pay me no attention."

"She lets you get away with murder."

"That's because she don't pay no attention to nothing at all!"

"So, like, what'd ya nab?"

"Eh, my old stand-by...a carton of cigarettes."

"Then, let's get going. Stinger's waiting at the grove."

"Wait! What about Reb?...Did ya set Stinger straight?"

"As long as you set Reb straight."

"Oh, boy!...I'll run and get him."

The petite girl disappeared down the walk towards Reb's residence. Lynn took a cigarette from her purse and lit up. She puffed like a chimney while waiting for Patti's return. Holding hands, Reb and Patti came tripping down the walk to discover Lynn pacing nervously "Now, Reb, don't you go rattling Stinger's cage, understand?"

"Yeah, yeah...I got it."

"Because if ya don't," Lynn showed some muscle. "I can help make it very clear for ya."

"For the record, I'm only doing this for Patti."

"That don't concern me. Just keep your big mouth shut."

"C'mon, let's get going!" Patti whined.

The three scampered across the street and vanished into the thicket. Following the familiar dirt trail, they were soon greeted by the gentle babblings of Sable Creek.

Stinger chugged a beer. "Where the hell have you been?" he said, crushing the can.

"Cool it," Lynn said, consulting her watch. "We got time."

Stinger pawed at Patti's satchel. "Whatcha bring us?"

"Nothing if you don't relax." The sassy girl evaded Stinger's grasp.

"Wanna hear a joke?" Lynn took a swig from a bottle and passed it around.

Stinger lit up. "Sure..."

The giantess strode beside her sororal kin. Dwarfing the girl, she rested an arm across Patti's shoulders. "L'il Sis here's gonna see her old man Sunday."

"That _really_ is a joke," Reb agreed. "When'd ya see him last?"

"Don't remember, and I really don't care." The tomboy struggled to light her cigarette, sheltering the soft glow of a lighter's flame from the evening breeze.

"At least you knew your old man," Lynn said. "My Dad ran off when I came along." She took a long drag of her smoke. "Never did see him." The teen turned her back to the group and wiped away a tear.

Stinger piped up, leaning against a tree. "Damn, I ain't seen my old man, neither, ya know. My folks went straight from Honeymoontown to Splitsville." The brute popped open a beer.

"Just the same old, same old..." Reb muttered, smoke billowing from his lips.

"Hold that thought!" Patti spied a butterfly. The straggler flitted and danced in the Indian Summer air then rested beside a puddle. Patti pounced, splattering mud over her companions. The yellow-winged jewel was reduced to an unrecognizable, twitching heap.

"Patti!" Lynn shrieked. "Look what you've done!"

"It was just _one_ butterfly..." The girl took a drag from her smoke. "No big deal."

"No, I mean look at yourself!"

Patti examined her soiled clothing. "Well..." She wiped mud from her cheek, donning an angelic smile. "It was worth it."

"Now, there's a _real_ nature lover!" Stinger snickered.

The pack jabbered over Patti's compassionate act – except for Reb. The loner stood beside the creek, reflecting upon the tales of his cohort's childhood memories.

Patti approached the boy, resting a hand on his shoulders. "Hey, Reb!" Patti jabbed her buddy in his ribs. "Tell 'em what you once told me."

The punk shot his girl a disgusted look, lifting a cigarette to his lips. The sweet taste of tobacco soothed him. He shrugged off her hand and walked away.

"Aw, go on..." The girl refused to quit. "Ain't no secrets here."

Reb flicked his cigarette into the mud puddle. The burning butt died beside a colorful stain where the vibrant butterfly once lingered. "My old man got remarried..." Reb gripped his bottle of Old Grannie, running his thumbs over the label. A swig of whiskey granted him the courage to continue.

"She used to be _the other woman_ when he was married to Mom. Even now, he's still sneaking around. He'll say he's at my sister's when he's really supposed to be here. Later, we find out that no one's seen him. He plays these games so he can drop in on his latest girlfriend whenever it's convenient. But, do ya think we're gonna clue-in his clueless new wife? Hell no! She'll find out soon enough exactly how Mom felt competing with _the other woman_."

Having relayed his life's story, Reb staggered away from the group, wiping the tears. He guzzled the remaining contents and drowned the painful memories.

"Makes ya wonder if we were even wanted," Lynn said.

Stinger spit on the ground. "It's like we've been forgotten."

"Sometimes, you just wanna run away from it all," Patti gazed skyward.

"A friend of mine did," Lynn added. "Hitched a ride to Florida. Never heard from her again."

"I bet they wouldn't even notice." Reb rejoined the circle. He moved in close to Patti and attempted to steal a kiss. The girl stepped aside without missing a beat. Loverboy fell into the mud puddle, face first, kissing the sludge instead. The gang howled at Reb's undoing.

"Hey! Look, Patti!" Stinger hovered his foot over Reb. "Another sorry butterfly! Should I crush it?"

"Just let him be." Patti shoved Stinger off-balance. "...You can get up now, Reb!"

The haggard boy arose, wiping his muddied face on his shirt.

" _Brrrrr!_ " Lynn shivered. "Wind's really whipping. Better make tracks."

"Where's the fire?" Patti quipped.

"Looks like a hot time shakin' up there." Stinger pointed to the far embankment where one house in particular shone bright, every window illuminated. The teen skittered across the fallen log, leading Lynn by the hand. Patti and Reb trailed behind. Under the full moon, the foursome followed the path toward Majestic Mews.

"I stroll into the house by sun-up," Stinger plowed through the high grasses. "But, Mom don't notice nothin'..."

"My old lady just grunts at me," Lynn said, crushing the overgrowth under her boots. "If she's not passed out on the sofa, that is. Patti knows the score."

"Mother don't really care what I do." Patti smoked her cigarette down to a nub. "I just cramp her style." She exhaled in disgust and flicked the smoldering butt carelessly into the cornfield. It landed under an abandoned tractor where a black puddle sparked to life.

"Christ, girl!" Stinger howled. "Are you mad?"

Reb chugged his peppermint schnapps. "Maybe she looked at your face!"

A ravenous fire feasted merrily upon the dried crop. Fanned by a stiff breeze, flaming tongues licked at the fence line and blocked their path forward.

"Beat feet!!!" shrieked Lynn.

The gang stampeded down the hill. Reb stumbled and bowled over his companions. The foursome tumbled head over heels, landing in a briar patch.

Patti rubbed her back side. "I feel like I rode a twister in a tumble drier!"

"No thanks to _your_ boyfriend!" Lynn snapped. "You're two peas in a pod!"

Stinger pulled thorns from his denim jacket. "Ya got that straight!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Patti fumed, yanking needles from her jeans.

"Simple, you're a nature freak, and..." The brute squirmed, checking for hidden hitchhickers. "Reb's a goddamn freak of nature!"

The weary warriors staggered back to the grove. "We can hang back at our pad," Lynn shivered. Four shadows raced against a crimson sky, scrambling for shelter within Lantern Lofts. In the distance, the fire encroached upon the houses of Majestic Mews – the closest being the Ormont residence.

* * *

Danny paced his room like a caged panther, fearing the looming punishment. _Thump-Bump! Thump-Bump! Thump-Bump!_ His heart beat in time to his father's heavy footsteps. Mr. Ormont pushed open the bedroom door to discover his son crouched in one corner, crying.

"Danny, come here..."

The boy approached the edge of the bed where his father was seated.

"You've done a terrible, terrible thing."

"Yes, sir..."

"And so," the lecture continued. "You must be punished severely."

"I suppose..."

"Yet, you still refuse to have your seat moved in school?"

Danny nodded, staring at the floor.

"Why, Danny? Is there something you're not telling me?"

The boy gazed up at his father, yearning to tell him everything. He opened his mouth, but the right words would not come. "A whipping won't hurt me, but moving my seat will kill me!"

"Tell ya what, let's see what your tea—" _KABOOM!_ Exploding glass rocked the house. "Stay here! I'll go see what that was."

Mr. Ormont raced to the kitchen. Flames leapt through a gaping hole where a bay window once stood. Mr. Ormont froze, surrounded by chaos. Everything moved in slow motion. A distant voice called to him; a woman yanked him out the front door. Together, they fled to the safety of a neighbor's house.

"Denny?" Mum trembled. "Where's Denny?"

"Oh, my God! I told him to wait in his room!"

The hysterical woman wept uncontrollably. "Me baby..."

"Now, Aggie, stay calm. I'll tell the firemen. They'll rescue him."

"Denny! Denny!...He needs me!"

Mr. Ormont embraced his wife. Tears soaked her husband's shirt while her husband gestured for a neighbor to inform the firemen.

Danny remained in his bedroom, wondering what detained his father. A flickering filled his room. He rushed to the window. Flames licked the house. The boy stepped into the hall. The thick smoke was suffocating. Trapped in his bedroom, he sought shelter in his walk-in closet. The fresh scent of clean clothing tickled his nose. The meek one dove under a curtain of haberdashery. Squashed, he crawled out and fumbled for a pull string.

_Dink!_ The bare bulb shed its ghostly glow. Oppressive heat radiated through the door. Danny assessed his position. Time was running out as were the options. Visions of suffocation clouded his mind. Overhead, an attic hatchway was his only hope. But, could he ever reach it?

The only glimmer of hope was to climb to a high shelf filled with forgotten toys.

"Wow, what luck!" Danny unearthed two crates hidden under the garments. "At least this will give me a boost." The scout dumped over each crate, kicking the contents under the wall of clothing. He pushed the crates to one side where a narrow rack of shelves lined the corner. He stacked the crates and ascended with care. The precarious tower shifted under his weight. He placed one foot on the edge of first shelf. It groaned under the strain, but the shelf held firm.

"It's hotter than Hades!" The room was a sauna. The boy wiped streams of sweat off his face. He scaled the shelving like a ladder until he reached the top.

"Now what?" He glanced around in the dim light. "I'll never make it that high." Danny pushed the toys off the shelf sending them crashing to the ground. At the far end of the shelf was a forgotten laundry basket filled with old clothing. "Mum must've placed this here."

Danny was about to dump the basket when something green and sparkling caught his eye. It was his "birdie" t-shirt from those lost years with Debbie. "Oh, Debbie, please remember me!" Danny wept into the precious memento.

With no time to spare, he stuffed the shirt into his back pocket as a keepsake. The innovator turned over the basket, retaining its contents. He climbed on top. The soft material sagged under his weight until the bundle of clothes offered support. Now, Danny could reach the attic hatchway. He pushed against the plywood covering until it budged. The panicked child was showered by sawdust. A loose bolt of insulation blanketed him.

"Damn my left arm..." Danny cried. "There's no way I can pull myself up!"

Soaked in sweat, he yanked on the fiberglass swatch in anger. The batting broke free, pulling a scrap of wood across the attic mouth. Danny gripped the stud and smiled. The wood made the perfect crutch. He faced forward, wedged the wood into the rear corner and pried himself upward – feet leveraged against the back wall. Like a backward pole vault, he pried his body upwards taking meticulous care to prop his feet first. Relentless in battle, he fought every inch of the way to scale the wall. Against all odds, he soon found himself resting upon a roof truss inside the attic.

"I just want to sleep." But, Danny knew he must stay awake at all costs. Gallons of sweat gushed down his back; a stinging sensation registered in his brain. Wounded, but...where? A bloodied shirt...huh? The brain identified the source of a burning – there! An abrasion across his chest. Snagged by a nail, no doubt. And, splinters in both hands, to boot. Danny ignored the pain.

The closet light cast its ghostly glow into the musty attic. He studied his surroundings. Twisted shadows wrapped around the crossbeams where Danny sat. In the far corner, splintered sunlight poked its fingers through the woodwork. In between, the rafters stood in silhouette. "It's my only hope..."

He pushed on the makeshift flooring. Could it hold his weight? It did not budge. Danny pushed harder, and the sheetrock gave. "I better step on the beams." The trusses were spaced further than Danny could stretch. "I'll just have to chance it." He held his breath, and took his first step. Pushing through a spider web, he lunged toward the neighboring rafter. But, his stride was too short. One foot pushed off the flooring. Skipped across, he felt the panel bow beneath him. Some nails popped. He hugged the rafter, gasping for air.

"One down," Danny sighed. "Only a million more to go."

Danny placed a foot on the attic floor. Again, he held his breath and lunged forward. Something creaked underfoot. His face broke through more cobwebs. He landed safely on the adjacent rafter. Stretched to the max, he sprang forward but misjudged. The flooring trembled. The frightened child staggered, fighting to keep his balance. "Guess I overdid it." He shifted his weight and scooted to the next perch.

Wheezing, Danny's lungs burned in the enveloping smoke. He tasted ashes in his mouth. "No air!" Danny cupped the birdie t-shirt over his mouth. "There's no air!" The burning sensation began to subside. He started off again, landing without incident.

"How many rows now?...two beams? Maybe three." Did it really matter? In a race for survival, he staggered toward the taunting shafts of daylight. The roof sloped sharply down upon him now. Hunched like a bell tower keeper, Danny pressed on – _thump... thump... thump..._

The daylight beckoned. With one last stutter step, Danny reached the far wall where the silvery light poured through an attic vent. He peeped through the louvers down to the street below. Blinding searchlights turned night into day. Fire trucks crammed the street, and a crowd of people had gathered. Fire hoses slithered across the yard like a pit of vipers.

He tugged on the grate with a lame grip, but it would not budge. His hands ached too much to be of any service to him now. Having come so far, his hopes of ending this nightmare were thwarted. There would be no escape from the terrifying reality. He trembled and wept into the birdie t-shirt; waves of countless memories crashed upon him like a shipwrecked sailor at the mercy of the sea.

An evening zephyr wafted through the grate. The cool night air soothed Danny's burning chest. The soffit planks creaked and moaned beneath him. Startled, he dropped his makeshift birdie mask. The wheezing ragamuffin hovered beside the vent and drank up the fresh air when the rotted woodwork shredded like tissue paper. The boy penetrated the eaves and plummeted three stories. He landed on all fours and collapsed on the ground, matching limbs lay in pairs. The fall had knocked the wind out of him.

"He's over here!" A stranger crouched beside the boy and thrust a bottle of smelling salts under his nose.

"Hey!" Danny lifted his head, squinting. "Can't you let sleeping dogs lie?"

"You fell from the eaves," the man laughed. "That makes you an eavesdropper!"

"And, that big red suit makes you a funny little man!"

"Today must be your lucky day."

"Sure, I'm one lucky dog, all right."

"I'll say. It was risky, but when you hit the roof..."

"It was an accident!" Danny blurted. "She didn't mean it..."

"Whoa! Take it easy!" the man insisted. "You feeling ok? You're white as a sheet!"

"That's my shiny, new coat. After all, it _IS_ shedding season!"

"Can you stand up?" The man offered his hand, but Danny did not return the gesture.

"Why?" The boy eyed the man with suspicion. "Wanna squirt me in the face, or something?"

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"Aw, c'mon, you know! Birds gotta sing, fish gotta drink...hiding a seltzer bottle in your pants, I think?"

"I'm afraid you're mistaken."

"That's a clever disguise, but it'll never work."

"Come again?"

"How long ya gonna peddle that dumb old fireman routine, anyhow?"

"Are you feeling ok? I'll have my sergeant get you checked out right away..."

"Look, pal, I _had_ all my shots!" Danny whined. "My nose is wet. I'm dewormed. And, as for fleas..."

"You know," the man pointed. "The paramedics are waiting in that truck."

"No foolin'? Say, how many of you can jump out of that thing, anyhow?"

"You talk funny."

"Not as funny as you."

"Quit clowning, son."

"Ha, look who's talkin'!"

"That was quite a spill. You oughta be checked out...

"Would you quit hounding me? I just want to chase a cat and go to bed," Danny yawned. "I'm so doggone tired..."

"You having fun yet?"

"A tail-waggin' good time."

"Good. Then, humor me and see the medics."

"I'm fine, I tell ya!" Danny took to his feet. "Ow, ow, _OW!_ "

"That doesn't sound fine to me. What's the matter?"

"My leg! My leg! I can't move my hind leg!"

"Your _hind_ what...?" the man scratched his head. "Ok, son. You've been pulling mine long enough!"

"Sir? Oh, sir!" Mum tapped the man's shoulder. "How's me lad, Denny? Be he injured?"

"Can't rightly tell, ma'am..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mr. Ormont dared to ask.

"Forgive me for saying so, mister, but..." The man rubbed his neck and swallowed hard.

"Well? For goodness sake man, speak!"

"Your son thinks...he thinks...well, he thinks he's a dog."

"You hear that, Aggie?" Mr. Ormont winked. "Our boy's fit as a fiddle!"

"Saints be praised, 'tis grand news!" Mum gasped, wiping away the tears. "Bet his noggin took quite a nasty knock, that it did!"

"Yes, that's why I told your son he really should have his head examined."

"We'll have him checked out right away, chief."

"Ha, that's funny. My dad actually called you _chief!_ "

"Naturally. Who'd you think I was?"

"Gee..." Danny cheered. "All this time I thought you were just some clown!"

# CHAPTER XXI

Your Sunday Best

Sunday morning, Danny arrived fifteen minutes early at the library. Still adapting to the crutches after Friday night's fall, he did not want to keep Patti waiting.

"Thanks for the ride, Dad!" Danny called. "Don't forget to pick me up around two!"

Watching his father drive off, he had a nagging suspicion that she might not even show. _Click, thump! Click, thump!_ Danny hobbled along. Clambering up the stairs outside the library, he tried to set his mind at ease.

With backpack slung over his shoulder, Danny managed to prop the heavy glass door open and slip inside. He took a right and headed towards the Adult section of the library. Countless racks jutted from the wall, tracing the perimeter. Two rows of conference tables filled the heart of the airy room. Danny grabbed the last empty table in front. Lowering his backpack to the floor, he collapsed into a chair and waited.

The library was buzzing, and Danny had a front row seat to observe the activity. A crowd of preschoolers toddled near. Carefree, they bubbled with excitement toward the Children's section – oblivious to the commands from nervous maternal chaperones. _It must be story time_. Danny thought. Looking to his left, a herd of high school kids were corralled in one corner. "What if Stinger's here?" Frantically, Danny scanned the teen crowd in search of a familiar face. "Yeah, right," the boy laughed to himself. "The library is the last place _he'd_ be found."

"Expecting someone else?" a scratchy voice asked.

"Huh? Oh, no! I was just..." Danny rubbed his eyes. There stood the epitome of elegance in denim and lace. Patti's unbuttoned jean jacket barely hid her low cut, party dress. Soft flowing, burgundy curls caressed her shoulders enchanting the enamored boy.

" _Weeeeeeeeell???_ " Patti rolled her eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Danny blushed, offering her a chair. "Can I take your coat?"

"No, that's ok," The girl's hoarse voice faded in and out. "I, uh, I think I'm catching a cold."

"I'm glad you came."

"Let's get started. I can't stay too long."

Slamming her notebook on the table, she took a seat next to Danny. The girl noticed Danny's crutches, but she did not bother to ask.

"You're all dressed up. You look so, so...glamorous.

"Naturally," she gloated. "Especially today. It's my Dad's birth— Hey, you feelin' ok?"

"Oh, sure...never better."

"Math's impossible," Patti groaned, shuffled through her papers. "I bet you're a real math whiz, huh?" The girl flashed her illuminating smile.

Thunderstruck, the hopeless romantic drowned in her cocoa brown eyes.

"...Something wrong?"

Danny swooned, enamored by her radiance. Sequin freckles danced with her smile; dimples pinched each cheek. "Oh, you're perfect..."

"Then, help me with this assignment," Patti demanded, scooting closer.

"Let's see. Percents aren't too hard..."

"Oh, I can't do percents," Patti groaned. "But, I'm sure you can teach me!" She latched onto her tutor's arm, and the startled boy's heart raced.

"Well, uh, you see," Danny stuttered. "First, we need to change the per—"

"Say! Did you hear about that fire Friday night?"

"I'll say! I—"

"I heard a fire truck had to come," Patti laughed. "Can you believe that one?"

"It's not funny, I had—"

"I'm sorry I missed that dog and pony show!"

Danny's jaw dropped. "What did you just say?"

"I said, it must've been a real _dog and pony show!_ "

Holy waters!...Just like in my dream!

"Such a fuss!" Patti rolled her eyes. "A real riot, I bet."

"Don't you know?"

" _Sh!_ "

"I'm _sure_ it would have just burnt itself out..."

"Are you crazy?" Danny snorted. "It was real serious, you see..."

" _Sh!_ " the librarian hissed. "Quiet, please!"

"Heck, it's not like _anyone_ got hurt, right?"

Danny's jaw and stomach slammed the ground simultaneously. "No one got hurt, huh?"

The librarian approached the two children. "Lower your voices."

"We're sorry," the boy said. "We'll be quieter..."

"That would be nice..."

"If only the place weren't so packed. You know a library is always booked!"

The woman turned up her nose and walked away in disgust.

"Patti!" Danny continued, pointing to his bad leg. "I almost got _killed_ in that fire!"

"Oh, you say the silliest things!"

Danny relayed his story, but the disinterested girl turned up her collar, tossed her head, and poofed her hair.

"That's all very nice." Patti stroked her curls in place. "What time is it?"

Danny glanced at his watch. "It's quarter after...why?"

"Oh, boy! I really gotta run."

"So soon?"

"...Uh, to the bathroom, of course."

Anticipating her return, the eager youth solved the first few math problems. The homework was lengthy – a mix of percents, decimals, and fractions.

_I wish she'd hurry!_ The jittery boy pushed his text aside and bit his thumb. Repeatedly, he dropped his eraser onto the table to see how far it might bounce. _She'll be mad if I work_ _ahead_.

"Danny?" a familiar voice called. "What in the world happened to you?"

"Oh, hi, Andy!" The boy ceased his personal source of amusement. "You mean the crutches?"

"Did your Dad break both your legs?"

"No, nothing like that..."

"I thought you were studying with Patti."

"Oh, but I am!" Danny cheered. "She'll be right back."

"That's funny..." Andy confessed. "I just waved goodbye to her as she climbed into a van!"

* * *

"Hi-ho, D-D-D-Daddy-o!" Patti giggled. "Now ya see me; now ya don't!" The dizzy dame stood on her father's front porch playing a game of peekaboo with the man.

"Christ, Patti! Is this your idea of a joke?"

"Speaking of jokes, I know a good one." Patti latched onto a pole and swung herself around the column.

"Does your mother know?"

"No, she's hasn't heard this joke yet."

"You've been drinking!"

"I was very thirsty!...Anyway, do you know why ketchup pours so slow?"

"Wait until your mother hears—"

"Because it falls behind!" Patti laughed, hysterically. "No, that's not right..."

"Come inside..." A heavy hand fell upon her shoulder.

"Wait, don't tell me!" Patti insisted, pushing him away. "Why do they serve ketchup?"

"Get in the house, NOW!" her father bossed.

"Because it pours so slow!" Patti cackled. "Isn't that so cute?...Just like Danny."

" _Danny?_ " he growled. "So, that the hood's name, huh? I am not amused..."

"It was funnier when Danny told it. Guess you had to be there!"

"Did he get you drunk? You know how much I worry about you..."

"Relax!" Patti shouted, plugging her ears. "I was learning about percents!"

"Percents?" Her father plucked away her fingers.

Patti tugged on her father's chin. "To know the proof of my alcohol, stupid!"

"Get in the house!"

Patti stumbled across the threshold. Her father punched a number into the telephone, watching his daughter collapse on the threadbare couch.

"Miranda! What the hell is this?"

"What is what, dear?" A sugary voice replied.

"Don't play dumb with me!"

"Why, Fred, I don't have the foggiest..."

"When I said I wanted to see my daughter," he began. "I presumed she'd be _sober!_ "

"For your information," Miranda insisted. "Your daughter spent the day at the library."

"Oh? Does she find her lessons intoxicating?"

"Have you been drinking?"

"Not me! Your darling daughter's more tanked up than my car!"

Miranda sighed. "Put her on the phone..."

"I'd love—" His words were interrupted by violent gagging and a toilet's flush. "Unfortunately," Fred shouted. "She's too busy puking her guts out!"

"What can I say? She's growing up."

"Really, Miranda! And, who is this Danny boy? Some hood?"

"Danny?...There's no Danny."

"First, this Danny boy gets her drunk, and next this Danny boy will be getting her..."

"Big deal!" Miranda snapped. "She has to learn some time."

"Well, I certainly hope you're satisfied. You and Tim should be proud."

"It's _Rick_ , and we're doing just fine."

"Oh, so it's Rick now, is it? I'm surprised you can recall their names!"

"That what's really bothering you, isn't it?"

"Look, you can do whatever you please, but when it concerns our daughter..."

"Hey, she can make her own decisions."

"Is that all you have to say? Aren't you the least bit concerned?"

"Concerned? Of course, I am concerned!" Miranda huffed. "I just hope she remembered not to mix her alcohol!"

# CHAPTER XXII

The Gemini Promise

"L-l-looks l-l-like we're a hit!" Andy shivered. His words faded away in a frozen cloud.

"Yup, I'd say so!" Danny leaned on his crutches and ogled the crowd in amazement. The compatriots enjoyed a most rewarding sight. All along the boys' line, yo-yos of every color took to flight – spinning, rocketing, dancing on command.

"Could this be the end of kickball come spring?"

"It's a start," Andy shouted with pride. "Give me ten!" Danny leaned on his crutches and congratulated his partner, exchanging awkward hand slaps. "Ok...guess I'll settle for five."

They squirmed in place, struggling to keep warm in the frigid air. Would the bell ever ring?

Andy revealed his yo-yo and performed a few stunts to pass the time. "So, you never told me what happened to your leg."

"Didn't you hear about the fire?"

"What fire?"

"You mean you _really_ don't know?"

"So, sue me! What the heck are you talking about?"

"I broke my leg escaping a big fire at my house!"

"Really? How did the fire start?"

"Well, I saw..." Danny clammed up. "They haven't a clue."

"Say, was that the same fire on Devonshire's farm?"

"That's the one."

"Yeah, there was something about it on the news."

"It gutted a good bit of the house. The whole back side is toast."

"Are you still living there?"

"No, some friends put us up until the house is fixed."

"How long will you be on crutches?"

"Could be as long as six weeks."

"So...whatcha gonna do for the talent show? Any thoughts?"

"I don't know..." Danny grumbled. "I asked Patti to be my partner, but she refused."

"Hey! Wanna work on something together?"

"That's a great idea! What exactly did you have in mind?"

Andy glanced about with shifty eyes to make sure no one could hear. "I have masterminded a plan to even the score with ole Mrs. Fishbine!"

"But...won't we get into big trouble?"

"On the last day of school?" Andy laughed. "What can she possibly do to us?"

"That's beautiful. You're a genius!"

"We'll give her what she really deserves."

"So, what's _the deal?_ "

"It's one dastardly little plan. Only thing is I can't tell you...yet."

"Why not?"

"It's all hush-hush, top secret stuff. I can't say until Winter Break."

"Winter Break? I don't think I can wait that long!"

"That's not too far away. Just remember, curiosity killed the cat."

"Yeah, and it's gonna kill this mouse, too."

"First, I have to work out the kinks. Besides, it'll be worth the wait."

"Oh, I hate waiting! Tell me...please?"

"No, it's a big secret. So, never breathe a word to a soul, ok?"

Danny placed his hand on his heart. "You can count on me." The boy unveiled a glow-in-the-dark yo-yo from his jacket pocket. Danny performed a few stunts before rocking his yo-yo to sleep. He tried to show Andy when a finger plucked the dangling string. The yo-yo was thrown into havoc, promptly lassoing itself.

"Well, well, well..." a voice piped up. "If it isn't the biggest yo-yo of 'em all."

"You shouldn't be so hard on yourself, Mark." Danny returned his wounded toy to his pocket.

"How would you like me to break your other leg?"

"In your dreams!"

A long-awaited shrill tone announced the start of another mundane Monday.

"Saved by the bell," Mark grunted.

Begrudgingly, the children filed into the building. Per the prescribed regimen, they visited their lockers and prepared for lessons. Danny juggled his crutches and books while stowing his belongings. Today's class schedule started with science, but for once Danny did not look forward to it. He did not wish to face Mr. Foster after last week's events. Hobbling, Danny arrived at his seat to discover his nemesis chatting away with Patti. And, when the twosome cackled with delight, Danny wanted to explode.

"Here's your notebook, Patti!" The steamed boy dropped the notebook from under his arm The binder slammed upon the desk. "You forgot it when we were studying together." Patti's jaw hit the floor. Mark turned forest green with envy.

"Why did I ever name you Mouse?" Mark shot Danny a dirty look. "You look more like a _rat_ to me."

"Then, you must be looking in the mirror. It's a common mistake."

"Boys, please..." Patti winked at Danny. "Don't stop on my account."

Mr. Foster grew flustered waiting for order. "Is there a problem back there?"

"He stole my seat!" Danny accused.

"Mark, you know you don't belong there!"

"But, Mr. Foster..."

"Don't make me separate you two."

"Oh, I'll keep watch over them," Patti assured, sandwiched between the two rivals.

"Mr. Ormont, can I see you a second?"

"Yes, sir," Danny sulked. Grabbing his crutches, he took a circuitous route to Mr. Foster's desk.

"I had a word with your father."

"I figured you would..."

"He asked me to assign you a new science partner."

"No! Please don't do that!" Danny bowed his head in shame.

"I told him I didn't think that was necessary."

Danny gazed at his teacher in admiration. "Really?"

"Yes, under one condition. That this will never happen again."

"Oh, I promise...I won't let you down!"

"Better not," Mr. Foster cracked a smile. "Your father's even tougher than the principal!"

"Very true."

"Say, I'm sorry to hear about your accident."

"Just my dumb luck, I guess."

"Well, let's not have any more accidents, ok?"

"That's fine with me."

"Oh, and one more thing..."

"Yes, Mr. Foster?" Danny asked, whipping back around.

"Are we still friends... _Mouse?_ " Mr. Foster extended his hand.

Danny pumped Mr. Foster's arm vigorously. "You betcha!" Smiling until it hurt, the relieved child limped back to his desk.

"I got my eye on you, Mouse!"

"Aw, I didn't know you cared."

"One more false move, and I'll snap you like..."

"Et-hem!" Mr. Foster cleared his throat. Silence blanketed the room.

Science Class:

"Today," Mr. Foster began. "We're going to try something new." The children groaned, anticipating the worst. Mark slithered under the tables, keeping one eye on the teacher. He crawled beyond Patti's feet and positioned himself under Danny's desk.

Mr. Foster revealed a wooden box. "I brought this game." The bewildered children whispered amongst themselves. Mark untied one of Danny's shoes and wound the laces around the table leg. "I hope you like it as much as I do," the teacher said.

Mumbles escalated into chatter as curiosities grew. Mark rushed to complete his handiwork. Intertwining the loose laces with the bows of the tied shoe, he knotted the free ends together.

"Let's settle down, people," Mr. Foster ordered. "Now, grab a partner, please."

Mark popped back into his seat just in time "Oh, boy!" Patti latched onto Mark's arm. "I have my partner!"

The victorious boy stuck his tongue out at Danny. "Too bad, Mouse," he snickered. "Better luck next time!"

Chaos filled the room as the children strategically chose partners. Danny could only sit still, unable to maneuver about the crowded room on crutches. He tried to get Andy's attention, but his friend had already teamed up with someone else.

"Once you have your partner," the teacher directed. "Come gather around me." The class gathered around the center of the room, pushing and shoving for the best view. At last, Danny rose upon his crutches and took a nosedive – smack on his face, flat on the floor. The classroom erupted into laughter; contorted children ogling the calamity.

"Gee, what happened?" Mark rushed to help Danny to his feet. "Are you hurt?"

Mark crouched down and whispered an ominous message into Danny's ear. "You may have won the battle, Mouse," he warned. "But, you won't win the war."

Danny climbed back into his seat and retied his shoelaces. Mr. Foster called the class to attention as Mark fled to Patti's side. Rising to his feet, Danny limped over to join his classmates and took a back seat to the crowd.

"This is like a floating maze," Mr. Foster began. "You must get the ball to the end."

"That's not so hard," someone shouted. Mr. Foster ignored the retort and continued.

"Each team will collaborate, working together to steer the ball to hole one hundred."

"But, how do we do that?" cried another.

"These knobs roll the maze left or right, up or down. You must be quick, anticipating the ball's every movement."

"Can I try? Can I try?" The students pawed the controls, but the man ignored their pleas.

"Andy, you're waiting very patiently," Mr. Foster declared. "Why don't you go first?" The class parted to allow Andy and his partner to approach the maze. "Ready? Set? Go!"

"Left!" Andy shouted. "Right! Now, left again!"

" _Ker-plunk!_ "

"Not bad," Mr. Foster encouraged. "You made it to the sixth hole."

"Pick me, pick me!" The choir of children chanted.

"Andy's team has one more try," Mr. Foster said. "Then, I'll pick the best behaved." The teacher placed the ball at the start. Andy and his partner took their positions once more. "Ready? Set? Go!"

"Left!" Andy directed. "Right, left, left again!"

" _Ker-plunk!_ "

"Ok, they made it to ninth hole that time," the teacher smiled. "Who can beat that?" Mr. Foster picked the next team from a sea of volunteers. Mr. Foster announced the scores as the results rolled in: "Fourteen... eleven...eight...seventeen...five...nineteen..." Danny observed each team's technique.

At last, it was time for Mark and Patti to try. Danny held his breath. With Mark's agility, they could easily claim the winning score.

"Ready? Set? Go!"

" _Ker-plunk!_ " The ball immediately sank into the zero hole. "Mark, wake up!" Patti berated her partner over the jeering crowd. "You know I _hate_ losers!"

"What are you saying?" Mark gasped. "You're the one who's asleep at the wheel!"

"Remember this takes teamwork," Mr. Foster said. "Ready? Set? Go!"

" _Ker-plunk!_ " Again, the ball sank into the zero hole. "Mark!" Patti blasted the inept boy. "We'd do better if you _were_ asleep!"

"Did anyone not get a turn?" The teacher scanned the students for a raised hand.

"Me!" A little voice declared, blocked by the crowd. "I didn't have a turn!"

"Danny?" Mr. Foster inquired. "Where's your partner?"

"Right here!" Patti hoisted Danny's hand high in the air. "C'mon, Mouse..." The girl rushed to Danny's side. "We'll show them!"

"No fair!" Mark whined. "She already went!"

"Yeah, but there's an odd number of students today." Danny arose on his crutches. The class cleared a path and let the couple pass. The eager boy leaned against the table, cracked his knuckles, rubbed his hands together, and rested his fingers on the maze's controls. Patti mimicked his actions. They hunched over the maze, waiting for the signal.

"Ready? Set? Go!"

The ball was set in motion. Patti bit her lip, studying the course. Danny studied her most subtle movements while the ball steadily progressed.

"Watch my hands, Patti," Danny whispered. "Watch my hands."

Still, the girl's eyes remained glued to the course.

"Twenty," Mr. Foster soon announced. The class held their breath, watching in silence.

"Watch my hands, Patti," the boy repeated to himself. "Watch my hands."

Slowly, Patti's eyes jockeyed between the maze and the boy's hands. She seemed hesitant to look away, until at last, her eyes rested solely upon Danny's hands.

"Forty..."

Mysteriously, the pair compensated for each other's movements, communicating through unseen means.

"Sixty..."

"My eyes," Danny meditated. "Look into my eyes." Patti did not glance at the maze anymore, compensating for her partner's motions without a conscious thought.

"Eighty!" The class roared with excitement.

Now, they were in the home stretch. The couple moved as one. Patti locked eyes and smiled at Danny. Together, they guided the ball to the finish with lightning speed. Were they reading each other's thoughts?

"One hundred!" Mr. Foster shouted over squeals of delight. The class could not believe how effortlessly the two manipulated the silver ball through the entire maze.

Danny slapped Patti a high-five in celebration of their victory.

"Beginner's luck!" Mark scoffed. "Bet they could never do _that_ again!"

"How about it?" the teacher asked.

"Bet we could!" Danny boasted, smiling at his partner. Patti smiled back in agreement then turned to Mark and shot him a disgusted look. Then, she smiled sweetly at Danny once more. The two assumed their positions at the maze, and Mr. Foster placed the ball. When Patti leaned over the maze, her necklace slipped out from behind her turtleneck. A sandstone medallion dangled from a thin leather strap. Danny gasped in surprise.

"The triple spiral!" Danny gasped. "But, does she remember...?"

"Ready? Set? Go!"

The teacher's words snapped Danny's attention back to the task at hand. Instinctively, the two locked eyes. The ball accelerated to top speed.

"Twenty!" the class cheered. Mr. Foster smiled in delight. The pair moved together in a well-choreographed dance. They manifested an unspoken rhythm reaching far beyond their own comprehension.

"Forty!" the class shouted.

The actions of the twosome seemed effortless. The ball careened through the maze like quicksilver.

"Sixty!" the class squealed for an instant, then fell silent. There was no sound except the soft scratches of the ball running over the wooden track. Eyes transfixed, they balanced each other's movements with precision.

"Eighty!" the children howled. The concentration of the players remained immutable. The class was ecstatic. Danny and Patti had closed their eyes! The ball zipped like lightning; the pair mastered the maze with ease.

" _Ker-plunk!_ " The ball gyrated wildly, disappearing into the last hole.

"One hundred!" the teacher declared. "You're golden!"

The class exploded into pandemonium. Danny gave Patti a big hug. Patti returned his gesture with a token effort. "Too bad, Mark!" Danny ribbed his foe. "Better luck next time!"

"So, who thinks they can match that?" The teacher's words were engulfed by the chaos.

Mr. Foster announced free time, allowing those who wished to practice with the maze.

Patti tried to sneak back to her seat, but her attempt was quickly foiled. Danny blocked her path, placing one crutch before her and placing the other behind.

"Ha-ha! We did it, Patti!" Danny beamed. "Only we could have pulled that off!"

"Yes, but, but...how?" Patti scratched her head. "H-h-how did we do it?"

"Didn't you feel that? I sure felt it! Surely, you felt something, too?"

"What do you mean, _feel?_...Feel what?"

"Aw, c'mon, Patti!" Danny squealed with delight. "The maze – that was no accident!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't ya see? There's something special between us!"

"Really? Like what?"

"Patti, even you have to admit that for a moment there..."

"...What? What were you going to say?"

"Wow...it's like...well, you DID anticipate my every move!"

The incredulous girl stared at Danny; her cheeks touched with pink. "How can that be?" Patti demanded. "You're keeping something from me!"

"I don't know myself! It's like...what twins can do."

"What are you babbling about, Mouse?"

"They say twins can tune in to each other's thoughts."

"That's ridiculous! You? My twin?"

"Not exactly, but...I know you."

"Of course you do, stupid! That's no news flash!"

"No, Patti..." Danny whispered. "I mean I've _known_ you!"

"What are you getting at?"

"Patti, I think...I mean, I know..." Danny floundered. "About your necklace..."

"Oh, do you like it?" Patti fingered the etching. "It's one-of-a kind, like me."

"What are you talking about?"

"It was a gift from my uncle," the girl bragged. "It's made from Argent's Point sand in Maine."

"But, Patti..."

"There's something special about the sand there. Betcha can't guess!"

Staring at her with trepidation, Danny tried to keep his mouth zipped, but his tongue would not be silenced.

"It's home of the singing sand," they blurted out together.

"It squeaks when you walk on it," Danny added.

"Hey, that's a private beach!" Patti's eyes popped out like someone had squeezed her head. "How could you _possibly_ know?"

"I guess it's just one more of those things..."

"One of _what_ things?" Patti cried, collapsing into the chair beside him. "This is just _way_ too scary! What's this all about?"

"Think of how we met," Danny pleaded. "And the maze, and the fire, and..."

"Aah! How'd you know about that?" Patti gasped. "I _never_ told a soul!"

"Somehow, I just know. These things just...come to me."

"My fist might just come to ya if you don't shut up!"

"Patti, please listen..." Danny begged, easing her fist downward.

"I don't want to hear it!" The stubborn girl clamped her hands over her ears.

"You will listen!" The boy uncovered her ears. "You _must_ listen!"

"Ok, ok!" Patti shrugged. "What's so bloody important?"

"Can't you see? I'm _trying_ to tell you something!"

"So, tell me already!"

"I've been _trying_ and _trying_ to tell you..."

"Well? I'm waiting!" Patti tapped her foot. "Make it good."

"It's like. like...we're connected. I _feel_ it...don't you?"

"Mouse, the maze was just uh, uh...a fluke."

"That was no fluke! Don't you _feel_ that we're connected? That maybe we belong together?"

"Your banana brains have turned to banana _SPLITS!!!_ "

"Don't try denying it!"

" _Feelings?_ " Patti froze, frightened by his amazing insight along with the peculiar revival of warm emotions she assumed were dead. "Feelings are life's little grass stains – made to wash away!"

The sting of her razor sharp words ambushed Danny's tender heart. _Why would she say such a horrible thing to me?_ Danny would not be discouraged. Fate had brought him closer to Patti than he could have ever imagined. There was no surrender. He had passed the point of no return.

"Look, I _know_ you! It's all so clear—"

"Ha, you don't know me! You don't know me at all!"

"Damn it, I _do_ know! Like I said...I know _you_ started the fire!"

"Shush, you fool!" Patti gasped, shooting Danny a chilling glare.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

"No one would believe you. You can't prove anything!"

"But, it's true...isn't it?"

"Would you hush up? Who told you?"

"No one told me anything. I saw you. It's like, like...I was there!"

"Impossible!" Patti whispered. "You must've been spying on me!"

"No, Patti, honest!" Danny pointed to the maze. "It's as plain as day to me!" The smug boy reclined in his chair, smirking.

Patti fumed, leering back at him through angry eyes. "Why, you dirty dog!" Patti took a swipe at him. "You _really_ do know!"

Danny lurched to one side, narrowly escaping the fury of her petite fist. "So, _now_ do you believe me?"

"You mustn't tell ANYONE! Got it? Promise me!"

"Me?" Danny clenched his chest "...Promise you?"

"Mouse, if you know what's best for me..."

"Only if _you_ promise me something first."

"Wh-wh-what do you want from me?" Patti eyed her counterpart with suspicion.

"Friendship. Promise you'll always treasure our friendship."

"Oh, sure, I promise. You're the kind of friend a girl could really... _use!_ "

"Aw, you're too much!" Danny blushed.

"But, you have to swear you'll _always_ be there for me."

"C'mon, Patti! You know in your heart you can always count on me."

"Then, I guess I promise...OK?"

"It's a good start," Danny whispered, leaning forward. "But, not good enough."

"Well, what the heck more can I say?

Danny beckoned for her to come closer, and the girl drew near. "Don't just promise me," Danny whispered in her ear. "Make me a _Gemini_ promise!"

"A Gemini what?"

"Remember? That's what you said to me!"

"Oh, Mouse!" his confidant laughed. "You say the most ridiculous things!"

"Think back, Patti. Who _really_ made that necklace?"

"I already told you. My uncle gave it to me, stupid!"

"C'mon, Patti...think." Danny held her hand. " _Think!_ "

The girl sat in silence. Biting her lip, she pulled back and stared into the distance.

"Remember? We chased the sandpipers along the shore?"

"Yes..."

"And, the sand castles we built away from the water?"

"Of course, but..."

"Then, we dug for clams at low tide?"

"Yes, I know all that, but still..."

"That's when you found that strange coin, remember?"

"Who could forget?" Patti agreed. "Those funny swirls..."

"The triple spiral!" Danny cheered. "You remember...we snuck some glue from the guest house?"

"And, we made molds of the coin," the girl whispered. "Pressing it into a wet sand mix, and..."

"That's right! Go on..."

"We placed the molds in the sun to dry, and when they hardened..."

"Go on, Patti!" Danny encouraged. "You remember, don't you?"

"The coins...they were our lucky charms, and..."

"Yes, yes!"

"No! That's _not_ right!" the frantic girl shook her head. "Do you hear? It's simply impossible!"

"Why, Patti, why?" Danny gazed into a face he no longer recognized. "What's impossible?"

"Well, if you're so smart, you figure it out!" The girl trembled as if she had seen a ghost. "You should know this simply _cannot_ be!"

"Why not?" The boy grew irate. "Tell me, why not?"

"Because..."

"Because why, Patti? I'm waiting!"

"Because, I...I wasn't _actually_ there," Patti confessed in a whisper. "I _couldn't_ have been!"

"But, I saw you with my own two eyes! We ran on the beach together! We jumped in the waves together, holding hands..."

"Things are never as clear as they appear, are they?"

"Funny...things seem pretty clear to me!"

"You _still_ don't get it, Mouse, do you?" Patti protested. "Trust me. It's just impossible, ok? Forget what you know because it's simply impossible...understand?"

"Impossible? Is it impossible that we should share some fun in the sun together?"

"No..."

"Is it impossible that we should enjoy each other's company?"

"No..."

"Is it impossible that we're so much alike?

"No..."

"Then, what is it, Patti?" Danny sighed. "Is it impossible that we might have _liked_ each other?"

She stared straight through him, biting her lip.

"That's it, then...isn't it?"

" _Whaaat?_ No!"

"I like you Patti! There, I said it. But, it scares you that maybe – just _maybe_ – you might just like me, too."

The girl remained silent.

"Fine, have it your way!" Danny shouted at his stoic friend. "But, I never stopped searching for you – never!"

"Searching?...Really?"

"Searching... Hoping... Believing..."

She turned to face him. "...Believing what, Mouse?"

"Believing that we'd meet again," he confessed. "I always believed that, and here you are."

"Really?"

"And, I'll tell ya one better...I believe in you, Patti!"

"Why?" Patti wept into her hands. "Why do you believe in me?"

"Simple! Because _you're_ the one!"

"This is all _way_ too freaky, Mouse! How do you explain it?"

"Explain? There's nothing to explain."

"I mean...the beach?...This class?...And, now the maze?"

"Simple! It's all part of the magic we share."

"This is all too weird...it makes no sense!"

"That's all I can say," the boy grinned. "...Until tomorrow becomes today."

"Mouse! My woman's intuition says you're up to something."

"Just _promise_ me, Patti! The same promise you asked of me..."

"But, I... I... I don't recall!"

"Make me a Gemini promise, Patti!" Danny spoke from his heart. "I swear, we can find that magic once again. I don't possess it without you. Don't leave unfinished what we have yet to get started." The tolerant child waited for her reply with words he longed to hear. "...Well?" His smile waned with his patience.

"Well... _what?_ "

"Don'tcha have anything to say?"

Patti held the boy's hand. Gently, their fingers intertwined. She placed their conjoined hands on her heart. "I Gemini promise you," Patti gazed deep into Danny's gentle eyes. "I won't ever forget this special day!"

His mystery girl sprang to her feet. "And, I promise – neither shall you, Danny boy!" Patti muttered, donning an evil grin. "Neither shall you..."

# # #

The adventure continues in Volume II: _Precognitions_. What happens next? Come sneak a peek...

# PHASE THREE — HAPPENSTANCE

That which lurks around every corner...

*** SNEAK PEEK! ***

CHAPTER XXIII

Mirror, Mirror

Greater Boston, Late 1970s:

"Say now, I'll be a-havin' me the stuffed cabbage and a salad," Mrs. Ormont said.

A waitress, dressed in a color-coordinated uniform, hovered beside the Ormonts' table. "And, what kind of dressing?"

"Ranch, please."

"I'd like the strip steak with a loaded baked potato," Mr. Ormont said.

The waitress scribbled madly on her pad. "How would you like your steak prepared?"

"Medium will be fine."

"Your steak also comes with a salad....What dressing for you?"

"Ranch is fine for me, too."

"I think I'll try the open-faced, hot turkey with french fries," Danny said.

"Would you like gravy with that?"

"Yes, over everything, please."

"And, to drink?"

"Three colas," Mr. Ormont said. "Oh, and a round of water."

"Very well," the waitress remarked. "I'll be right back with your drinks."

"Well, tonight we'll be sleeping in our own home once again," Mr. Ormont observed.

"Took quite a spell," Mum replied. "'Tis well worth the wait, I imagine."

"We were fortunate the Devonshires could put us up for so long."

"You mean, _put up with us_ for so long, right Dad?"

The waitress returned with their drinks and a bread basket. Danny snagged a roll and was about to sink his teeth into its pillowy softness when a firm hand grabbed his wrist. "Not so fast!" Mum scolded. "First, we be a-sayin' Grace."

Danny could not stifle his hunger. "Since when did we start saying that?"

"Sakes! Need yea remindin'?" Mrs. Ormont frowned. "Since we be a-havin bountiful wonders to be tankful fir."

"Son, better do what your mother says."

The disheartened boy returned the roll to the bread basket, placed his hands together, and bowed his head. His parents repeated the same ritual, prepared to give thanks.

"We give tanks fir the food of which we partake," Mrs. Ormont began. "And, fir our house which He did not forsake. Amen."

"Amen," Danny and his father declared.

"I must say," Mr. Ormont said. "The neighborhood sure has been quiet lately."

Their son smiled, "I guess the winter put a chill on things."

"My soul, Denny, why don't yea avoid folks like Stinger?"

"I try to avoid him." The boy retrieved his dinner roll. "Thing is, he doesn't avoid me."

"Mum's right, he's nothing but trouble."

"Stinger?" Danny dropped his butter knife in mid-spread. "Is that who started the fire?"

"He's the prime suspect in my book." Mr. Ormont tore open a croissant in disgust.

"But..." Danny buttered his roll, maintaining his composure. "Do they know for sure?"

"No," Mum sighed. "The authorities be doing their best."

Mr. Ormont shook his head. "I'd hate to see how this affects our insurance rates."

His son stroked his jaw. "What do ya mean? That's what insurance is for, right?"

"Yes, but now we're a risk," his father explained. "File one claim, and your rates increase."

Danny laughed. "You mean you pay for insurance, but you can never use it?"

"That's right."

"That's crazy!"

"That's reality."

"And, what happens when they catch whoever done it?"

"Be it all the better."

Mr. Ormont pushed his chair back and smiled. "I'd sure like to see Stinger sent to jail."

"Heavens, Al, he be merely a juvenile..."

"A juvenile delinquent, you mean!" His father's callous words brought Danny visions of Patti behind bars. _Clank!_ Danny's knife slipped out of his hand. "You seem awfully jumpy tonight, son," his father remarked. "Got ants in your pants?"

"Denny, be a tad more careful," Mum frowned, rummaging through the bread basket.

"I'll try," Danny laughed, itching to learn more. "Tell me again. If they catch the person..."

"The entire neighborhood would benefit," Mr. Ormont said.

"How?"

"People track these incidents. The cows, the fire..."

"But, it didn't hurt the entire neighborhood."

"Aye, that it does, Denny."

"I don't understand..."

"You've got a lot to learn about life, young man," Mr. Ormont remarked. Danny knew this statement meant his father was about to impart some tidbits of wisdom. "More than the neighborhood, it weakens our community."

Danny grabbed his soda. Mysteriously, his arm jerked and smashed the glass on the floor.

""Land sakes!" Mum said. "What the devil be wit yea tonight?"

* * *

"Hey, stop that!" Patti's friend slapped her wrist. A compact shattered on the floor of the cosmetics aisle.

"Look what you made me do, Cheryl!"

"What were you thinking?"

"It's called hide and seek."

"It's called stealing! You were going to drop it into your purse."

"Aw, it's just one little packet of eye shadow. The store won't even miss it."

"It's still wrong."

"Hey, they have plenty more." Patti reached for the display. "We just want one."

"Et-a-hem..." A store clerk cleared his throat. "Can I help you ladies?"

"No, thanks." Innocently, Patti ran her extended hand through her hair. "We were just looking."

"Indeed..." The clerk quipped with a suspicious eye. "That's what I thought."

* * *

"Here we are...two salads."

"Careful, dear!" Mum warned the waitress. "Afraid we rightly had a wee accident."

"Oh, no problem," the server smiled. "It happens to the best of us." The young lady brushed the broken glass out of the aisle with her foot and motioned for a bus boy. "Your food will be coming right out." Nothing could sour the waitress' demeanor. "I'll bring you another drink."

"Dad, tell me again," Danny asked. "You know, what you said about the community and all?"

"A community is only as strong as its weakest link."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"How it pains me to say this, but I fear Stinger's bad reputation be a plague."

"How so?"

"Neighbors move away..." His mother chewed upon a forkful of greens before completing her thought. "It makes the neighborhood unstable."

"But, others will move in, right?"

"The news jumped all over the story about the fire." Mr. Ormont pointed his fork at his son with fiery eyes. "The reporter enjoyed calling it arson. He couldn't use that word enough."

Mum nodded in agreement. "Spreads bad tidings 'bout our community."

Danny took a long drink of water and cleared his throat.

"Would you want to move to such a place?" Mr. Ormont asked.

The question festered in Danny's head when their dinners arrived. The waitress opened a stand, rested her tray, and began to serve. "Let's see, a strip steak for the man of the house," the waitress announced, centering the plate before Mr. Ormont.

The Ormonts eyed their son eager to continue the discussion.

"Stuffed cabbage for the first lady..."

"Hold your thoughts, son."

"And, the hot turkey for the young squire."

"A veritable banquet," Mum said, wide-eyed.

"Steak sauce for you, sir?" the waitress offered, replacing Danny's refreshment.

"Certainly."

The waitress rested the bottle on the table. "Will there be anything else?"

"No, I think we're fine for now."

"Well, then...I'll be back to check on you soon."

"Is that how you want people to view our community?" his father asked, drowning his dinner in steak sauce.

"Gee, it's not the neighborhood that's bad," Danny considered. "Just a few bad apples."

"Pity..." Mum sliced into her entree. "Truth be told, a few bad apples be a-spoilin' the whole bunch."

Danny considered his mother's words, blindly reaching for his drink. Once more, his arm jerked wildly, thrusting his glass to the floor.

"Denny!" Mum shouted. "'Tis twice now!"

* * *

"Patti!" Cheryl shouted, jerking Patti's arm once more. "What's with you?"

"Hey, don't make a federal case out of this," her companion barked. "Just slip this into your pocket."

"I, uh, like the color you chose for me. But, I don't want it that badly."

"It was worth a second try. I hate waiting in line."

"I'll just pay for this, and we'll be out of here."

"You know, I bet you could walk right out of here, and no one would know."

"Oh, yeah...right." Cheryl rolled her eyes.

"No, really!" Patti coaxed. "Just walk straight into the mall. Piece of cake."

"It'll never work. Besides, some of these places are alarming their stuff."

"Don't be such a coward. They're only alarming the big stuff, not this."

"Since you're so smart, why don't you do it?"

"I'd do it in a heartbeat...if this were my color, that is."

"C'mon, Patti, get real," Cheryl challenged. "I dare ya!"

* * *

The Ormonts finished dinner in silence. But, when the family was ready for the check, the waitress could not to be found.

"That ought to cover it." Mr. Ormont tossed two twenties on the table. "Now, let's leave before someone causes any more damage." All eyes fell upon Danny as he slunk down in his seat.

Mr. Ormont headed for the door with Mum trailing close behind. The pair did not wait for Danny. The boy wriggled out of his seat, spilling his water across the table where the money lay. Unable to find a clean napkin, Danny produced a packet of crumpled tissues from his pocket and dabbed at the mess.

* * *

"I'll do it if you will," the challenger whispered in her friend's ear. The two girls moved to the far end of the aisle and continued the debate.

"No, Patti...I don't think we should."

"You dared me. You can't back down now, Cheryl."

"What if we get caught?"

"Relax. Nothing to it, really."

"No...it's just not right."

"I'm not gonna wait for you to stand in that line."

"Honestly, Patti, I don't get you. I'd wait in line for you."

"You're wasting my time!"

"But, you know how much I really want that shade of eye shadow!"

"Stop whining!"

"C'mon, let's beat it." Cheryl returned the compact to the shelf, gave her companion the cold shoulder, and stormed out of the store alone.

* * *

"Denny, time's a-wasting," Mum called over the din of restaurant chatter. "Off wit yea!"

The boy glanced at his mother, groping for the unused tissues. Rushing to catch up with his parents, he jammed the wad into his back pocket. But, something did not feel quite right. Danny climbed into the car and toyed with the bunched-up lining of his back pocket. He leaned forward, struggling to smooth the bulge to no avail. Annoyed, he emptied the pocket. Two soggy twenties lay folded in his hand. Their wrinkled faces stared back at him in disgust. _Holy helicopters!_ _I just stole the dinner money!_

* * *

Outside the mall, the two girls stood in the afterglow of a dying, wintry sunset.

"Here ya go, Cheryl!" Her companion laughed, revealing a small item from her back pocket.

"But, how...how'd you pay for it so quickly?"

"Pay? Oh, yeah, right..." Patti smirked. "Let's just say this one's on me."

* * *

"Welcome home, everyone!" Mr. Ormont announced while the family explored their home as if they were seeing it for the first time.

Danny ran his hand along the wall. "You could never tell there had been a fire here."

"'Twas worth the wait, that it was," Mum said.

"It's good to be home, again," Danny said, inhaling the pleasing aromas of new carpet and fresh paint.

Mum took a leisurely stroll to admire her new country kitchen. "Bless me soul! I wouldn't believe it if I not be seein' it wit me own eyes." She caressed the polished, cherry wood panels, opening each and every cabinet with care.

Danny raced upstairs. "I can't wait to tell Patti the good news."

" _Patti?_ " his parents cried in shock.

"I thought _we_ agreed to stay away from her," Mr. Ormont grumbled.

"Well, uh..." Danny smiled. "She's changed."

... _the adventure continues in Volume II: Precognitions_

# About Daniel Ormont

Daniel Ormont traces the origins of his psychic episodes back to toddlerhood when subtle inklings tipped the first domino in a lifelong chain reaction of poignant, precognitive events. These occurrences intensified starting in Middle School. Today, he is a degreed engineer catering to the defense, power, and chemical industries. An amateur astronomer, he once attended a Cosmology Symposium at Johns Hopkins' Space Telescope Science Institute (STSI).

Over time, acquaintances have shared similar peculiarities: locating lost items for others, foretelling of relatives' illnesses, intervening to prevent a fatality – strictly through precognition. For Daniel, it not _just_ through dreams, and he believes each of us possess this ability to various degrees. Therefore, he remains open-minded to the _impossibilities_.

With fingers poised at the ready, _The Boy From Tomorrow_ project formally began in 2003 when the urge to churn burgeoning thoughts into chapters could no longer be quelled. But, spinning a yarn to illustrate how his psychic experiences unfolded over time proved quite challenging. And, while Danny slaved away at the keyboard, was science catching up?

While preparing to publish his first novel, he was pleasantly surprised to learn that some far-out ideas – once deemed too wacky for scientists to pursue – are being re-examined. Discover Magazine (July/August 2016) reported on renewed interest in _Entanglement_ , an abandoned idea from the infancy of quantum physics (the study of subatomic behavior) explaining how one particle may instantly influence another without physical contact nor proximity. Now, laboratory experiments are revealing what was once only imagined: the existence of "spooky action" at the subatomic level. ( _Everything Worth Knowing About Entanglement_ , Devin Powell).

* * *

Daniel resides on the Delmarva peninsula with his wife and two children. He remains abreast of the latest scientific theories published in today's science and technology periodicals. Yet, despite a technical education and an internet of conventional wisdom to the contrary, he experiences precognition to this day.

* * *

_Connect With Daniel Ormont_

Visit my webpage at: www.DanielOrmont.com

Friend me on Facebook: <https://www.facebook.com/How2FutureGlimpse>

Follow me on Twitter: <https://twitter.com/AFutureGlimpse>

Follow me on Instagram: www.instagram.com/DanielOrmont

# Other Books by Daniel Ormont

Enjoyed my book?

Please write a review at your favorite eBook retailer.

Tell all your friends to purchase a copy and come along for the ride!

Enjoy other Daniel Ormont titles at fine eBook retailers everywhere:

### The Boy From Tomorrow Series

Volume I: Premonitions

Volume II: Precognitions

Volume III: Prologue*

Volume IV: Clandestiny**

### Non-Fiction

The Psychic Within**

*Available late 2017

**Future release date to be announced
