Gordie and I were silent the whole way to the store. That was how it usually was between us. It wasn't that we had nothing to say; it was more that we kind of relished in the peace and quiet. There was an unspoken kind of bond between Gordie and I, like we were so close that we didn't have to talk to each other.

After the whole basement incident, Gordie seemed to be the only one who didn't press me for answers. The other guys all wanted to know if I was skipping to look cool. Chris new better. He knew I liked school. He'd bugged me about it for weeks. I guess Gordie might have said something to him because he suddenly stopped asking. The other guys just grew bored and moved on to bigger and better things.

"What all do we need, Gordo?" I asked as we reached the general store.

"Couple pounds of hamburger, a few Cokes, and some buns."

"Right. I'll grab the Cokes, then, if you wanna go ahead and get the hamburger and buns."

"Sounds good," he said. We entered the store, the bell above the door tinkling as we did, signaling that there were customers. The man at the counter— God forbid I remembered his name— looked interestedly at us as we entered. He had a pot belly and was chewing on a toothpick. I'd seen him around town of course, but I'd never talked to him before. Ma didn't like him much. She said she always got that "holier than thou" sorta vibe from the guy. Now looking at him, I understood what she meant, because the fat man stared Gordie and me down like we were little cockroaches and he was just waiting to see what we would do.

Gordie asked for four pounds of hamburger while I made my way to the far end where the sodas were.

"I know you. You're Denny Lachance's brother. Ain't you?" I heard the clerk ask.

"Yes, sir. But Denny, he-" Gordie began, but was quickly interrupted.

"Yeah, I know. That's a sad thing, kid. The Bible says: 'In the midst of life, we are in death.' Did you know that? Yuh. I lost a brother in Korea. You look just like Denny, people ever tell you that? Yuh. Spitting image."

"Puh," I grumbled, hoping the guy'd hear me. I don't think he did. I rounded the corner and placed the sodas on the counter.

"Yes, sir, sometimes," said Grodie politely, but I could tell he was bothered. All us kids knew better than to ask Gordie about his brother. And yet all these adults acted like they were owed an explanation or something. Why couldn't they just leave us be?

"I remember the year he was All-Conference. Halfback, he played. Yuh. Could he run? Father God and Sonny Jesus! You're probably too young to remember."

"I remember," said Gordie.

"You're Howard and Judy Callahan's kid, ain'tcha?"

"Yeah," I replied, gritting my teeth as he reared the conversation onto something I didn't want to talk about.

"God bless your dad, young lady," he said. I could feel my cheeks immediately start to burn red. "Fighting in war like that. God bless, God bless. And your mother. She still own that crafts store? I wonder how she could be working all the time like that and not spend a minute at home with her kids—"

"Uh, Mr. Dusset?" said Gordie quickly, pushing me behind him.

"What, kid?"

"Your thumb is on the scales."

"What?" he exclaimed, like he couldn't believe it. "Why, so it is. Yuh. I guess I just got thinking about your brother, God love him." When he removed his hand to sign a cross onto himself, the scale needle sprang back a whole six ounces. He added a little bit more meat before wrapping it up in paper for us. He rang up the cokes and the buns and I tossed a churchkey onto the counter.

"Okay, let's see what we got here. Four pounds of hamburg, that's a dollar ninety-nine. Hamburg rolls, that's twenty-seven. Five sodas, that's fifty cents. One churchkey, two pence. Comes to...Two ninety-five."

"Seventy-one," I said.

"Huh?" he asked, a fat frown forming on his face.

"Two seventy-one," Gordie pitched. "You added it wrong."

"Kid, are you-"

"You added it wrong," he insisted. "First you put your thumb on the scales and then you overcharged on groceries, Mr. Dusset. I was gonna throw some Hostess Twinkies on top of that order, but now I guess I won't." Gordie slammed the change down on the counter.

"What are you, kid? Are you some kind of smartass?"

"No, sir. But you ain't going to jap me and get away with it. What would your mother say if she knew you was japping little kids?"

He tossed our stuff into a paper bag and practically threw it at my face.

"Okay, kids. Here you go. Now what you do is get the Christ out of my store. I see you in here again and I'm going to throw you out. Yuh. Smartass little sonofawhores."

"We won't come in again," I spat. Gordie and I walked over to the screen door.

"Neither will none of our friends," Gordie promised. "I guess we got fifty or so."

"Your brother wasn't no smartass!" Dusset yelled.

"Fuck you!" Gordie screamed and we hauled ass away from the Florida Market.

We heard the door bang open and, at first, I thought the fucker had fired a gun at us. "If you ever come in here again, I'll fat your lip for you, you little punks!"

We ran until we were well beyond the first hill, looking behind us periodically to make sure he hadn't followed us. We laughed to each other, both humorously and just out of relief. We finally reached the dump gate and scaled over the fence. We began walking through the dump. Halfway across, however, we spotted Pressman's Buick and we both gave each other a nervous look. I glanced behind me at the fence but Gordie wasn't going to turn around and neither was I.

"Just keep walking," he muttered. I nodded and we just kept up the same pace. The fence seemed so far away, but so far so good.

Just fifty feet before we reached the fence, when we thought we were in the clear, we heard Milo Pressman howl out, "Hey! Hey, you! You kids! Get away f'n that fence! Get outta here!" It would have gotten us out a whole lotta trouble if we'd just agreed and turned around, but we were so close to the far fence now that we just broke out into a dead sprint. The others appeared out of some underbrush after Gordie let out a shriek.

"You come back here!" Pressman screamed. "Come back here or I'll sic my dog on you, goddammit!" I pushed myself even faster toward the fence, my hair flying behind me and droplets of sweat beading up on my forehead. I couldn't tell if my heart was actually in my stomach or if it was the adrenaline.

I heard Teddy's eee-eee-eee! I saw Chris and Vern shouting, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. I definitely heard the next thing Milo shouted: "Sic 'em, Chopper! Go get 'em, boy!"

My hands hit the fence painfully as I stumbled into it and I saw Gordie toss the bag of groceries over it, Vern shoving Teddy out of the way to grab it. I made it to the top of the fence in two bounds before throwing myself over the top and nearly landing on Chris. Screaming and Chopper just behind him, Gordie tossed himself up the fence, too, before leaping down beside us. He nearly fell right on top of Teddy, who was too busy crying with laughter, his glasses askew, to notice.

Seconds later, Chopper hit the fence and the five of us screamed with laughter at how pathetic Milo Pressman's guard dog actually was. He was a mangy mutt, really. Teddy began to strut back and forth in front of the fence, wagging his rear and twirling his glasses around.

"Kiss my ass, Choppie! Kiss my ass! Bite shit!" Teddy pressed his ass against the fence, but Chopper got nothing more than a bit of Teddy's t-shirt and a painful slam against his snout. Teddy kept doing it, making 'Choppie' hit his nose against the chain link and eventually making his nose start bleeding. Chris, Vern, and I were almost literally dying with laughter, the three of us lying on the ground. I clutched my stomach as I laughed, my pale face burning bright red and my cheeks aching.

"Here, here! You boys stop a-teasing that dawg! You hear me? Stop it right now!"

"Bite it, Choppie," Teddy screamed in delight. "Come on and sic me! Sic me!"

Pressman gave us the most crazed look I'd ever seen anyone give. "I know you!" he screamed. "You're Teddy Duchamp. I know all of you! Sonny, I'll beat your ass, teasing my dawg like that!"

"Like to see you try! Let's see you try to get over this fence and get me, fatass!"

"WHAT! WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?"

"FATASS!" Teddy shouted. "LARD-BUCKET! TUBBAGUTS! COME ON! COME ON! TEACH YOU TO SIC YOUR STUPID DOG ON PEOPLE! COME ON! LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY!"

"You little tin-weasle peckerwood loony's son! I'll see your mother gets an invitation to go down and talk to the judge in court about what you done to my dawg!"

"What did you call me?" Teddy said, his voice so simultaneously calm and outraged that I even got scared.

"Your dad was a loony," Milo said, clearly pleased that he'd so obviously pressed the right button. "Loony up in Togus, that's what. Crazier'n a shithouse rat. Crazier'n a buck with tickwood fever. Nuttier'n a long-tailed cat in a room fulla rocking chairs. Loony. No wonder you're actin the way you are, with a loony for a f-"

"YOUR MOTHER BLOWS DEAD RATS! AND IF YOU CALL MY DAD A LOONY AGAIN, I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU COCKSUCKER!"

"Loony," Milo said with an evil grin on his face. "Loony's kid, loony's kid, your father's got toys in the attic, kid, tough break."

"No more, no more, please, no more. I swear to God I'm going to bust!" Chris cackled, but I'd since stopped laughing. Vern and Chris had busted up again after Teddy had shouted about Mother Pressman blowing rats.

"Don't you say nothing else about my dad! My dad stormed the beach at Normandy, you fucking wet end!"

"Yeah, well, where is he now, you ugly little four-eyed turd? He's up in Togus, ain't he? He's up to Togus because HE WENT FUCKING SECTION EIGHT!"

"Okay, that's it! That's it, that's the end. I'm gonna kill you!" He leaped at the fence.

"You come on and try it you slimy little bastard," Pressman challenged.

"No!" Gordie screamed. Gordie grabbed him by his jeans and pulled him back, both of them falling down. Gordie let out a groan, but kept his hold on Teddy.

"Lemme up! Lemme up, Gordie! Nobody ranks out my old man! LEMME UP GODDAMMIT, LEMME UP!"

"That's just what he wants, Teddy," I shouted. "He wants you to go over there so he can beat the piss outta you and take you to the cops!"

"Huh?" Teddy asked, whirling around to look at me.

"Never mind your smart mouth, kid," Pressman said, pointing a dirty sausage finger at me from behind the fence. "Let 'im do his own battles."

"Sure, you only outweigh him by five hundred pounds," said Gordie. I could have snorted, but I bit my lip to keep my laughter back.

"I know you, too. Your name's Lachance." He pointed to me and then to Vern and Chris. "And that little brat Roseanne Callahan and Chris Chambers and you're one of those stupid Tessio kids. All your fathers are going to get calls from me, except for the loony up at Togus. You'll go to the 'formatory, every one of you. Juvenile delinquents!"

Chris spat through a hole made from his finger and thumb and I just stood there, torn between wanted to strangle the asshole and not actually wanting to get in trouble with authorities.

"Come on, Gordie. Let's get away from this asshole before I puke."

"Oh, you're gonna get it, you foulmouthed little whoremaster. Wait'll I take you to the Constable."

"We heard what you said about his father," I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest. "We're all witnesses. And you sicced that dog on us. That's against the law."

"You was tresspassin'" he said nervously.

"The hell we were," said Gordie. "The dump's public property."

"You climbed the fence."

"Sure we did. After you sicced that dog on us." I glanced to Gordie, but said nothing. "What'd you think we were gonna do? Stand there and let him rip us to pieces? Come on, you guys. Let's go. It stinks around here."

"'Formatory. 'Formatory for you wiseguys," Milo said, even though his voice was shaking pathetically.

"Can't wait to tell the cops how you called a war vet a fuckin' loony!" Chris shouted back as we all walked away. "What did you do in the war, Mr. Pressman?"

"NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS! YOU HURT MY DAWG!"

"Put it in your t.s. slip and give it to the chaplain," I heard Vern say and I let out a chuckle.

"Come back here!" I heard Milo scream, but we didn't turn around and he didn't make any further efforts to try and get us. We just continued on.