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     all the alder and vine maples (which would be going red by now) to stick a boxy old trailer-house there. “You tell him to
     come on over here and borrow my mower. I’ll show him how to use it, but make sure all the sticks and rocks are picked out
     of the yard first.”
    Sidney dropped her head and let out a slow, steady breath. “Well, that’s very nice of you to offer, Mr. Bradbury. But the
     truth is, I’m having a little trouble with Tyson right now.”
    Aha. It figured. Even from a distance a guy could see the kid had rebellion written all over him. “You just send him over
     here. I’ll tell him where the hogs eat corn.”
    She sighed again, her angular but pretty face losing what he now realized had been a pleasant, almost cheery facade. “My son
     isn’t home right now. He, uh, ran away recently.”
    “So, that’s why the sheriff was there the other night?”
    She clamped her lips between her teeth momentarily as she seemed to study his face. “Mr. Bradbury, I’m going to be honest
     with you. You’re a nice neighbor, and living right across the street from us the way you do, it’s just a matter of time anyway
     until you know the truth. You know that so-called attempted robbery at Graber’s this summer?” He nodded. “Well, that was my
     Ty.” Her stunning green eyes fell away for a moment before returning to his.
    He tried not to seem shocked, though he was. First the mole and now this. He had been living across the street from an armed
     criminal—and to think that he rarely remembered to lock up his house when he went to bed at night. It had never seemed necessary
     before. According to Red, the barber, the kid had almost shot the proprietor—would have killed a guy with a wife and two kids
     over a bottle of booze if he hadn’t tripped and smashed the bottle tucked into his jacket. “But I’ve seen him around since
     then, haven’t I?”
    “The judge let him out to await his trial. Being a juvenile and the fact that it was his first offense, plus that he turned
     himself in, he let Ty come home until his hearing. But he had a curfew and was supposed to be in school every day and no place
     but home after that.” She looked away. “Now he’s messed that all up. Got in a fight at school and ran away. I guess he thought
     they’d slap him right in jail for getting suspended.” Her eyes watered up. “He’s really not such a bad boy, Mr. Bradbury.
     It’s just that something’s got him by the heart and it’s squeezing the life out of him. I see this dull pain in his eyes but
     I don’t know what it is. I don’t know how to fix his hurts anymore.”
    A mole, a criminal for a neighbor, and now a crying woman. If this wasn’t a day to beat all. It was half-past nine and he
     hadn’t even touched the newspaper yet. His whole neat world, it seemed, was being cracked open like a walnut. He should do
     something but he didn’t know what. His hand reached out to pat her knee, but he thought better of it and grabbed the shovel,
     using it as a crutch to stand to his feet, leaning heavily on it as he stretched his stiff knees.
    Sidney stood also, dabbing her face with the underside of her sleeve. That was the way Molly did when she cried over old movies
     or sad telephone conversations so as not to smear her makeup. Molly wore rouge and a little mascara right up until she took
     sick and even then sometimes pinked up her cheeks when someone came to call. “Sorry to lay my troubles on you, Mr. Bradbury.”
     She chuckled through her tears. “I don’t know why I did that.” She glanced at her watch. “Well, it looks like I’ll be working
     past five tonight to make up for it.” She offered a brave smile. “Anyway, I’m glad you were just hunting down a mole and not
     having an aneurysm or something.”
    “You lay your troubles on me anytime you need an ear,” he heard himself say, immediately wondering where that came from. If
     he could have sucked the words back, he