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this,” said Mattie. She picked a clamshell out of her bowl and scooped it full of chowder. She closed her eyes, tipped everything into her mouth, and slurped.
    Bad manners ruled. We all slurped. We all dabbed our hunks of French bread into puddles of the chowder and we all licked our fingers. Weclinked shells in our bowls and tossed empties into the tin colander in the center of the picnic table. We were consumed with consuming.
    I might have been on my second-to-last clam when I realized that something had changed. Something had been added. I felt it behind me. It was Mr. Spivey.
    “I’ll need one of you to come get that sheep out of my yard now.”
    I turned on the bench. There he stood, just ten feet away, hands in his pits. I had probably missed the pecking finger.
    I found my wits and said, “Okay, Mr. Spivey. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” I think we all must have been staring at him then.
    The Spive shook his head. “Can’t wait, can’t keep watch that long,” he said.
    Pop Chilly tossed an empty clamshell into the colander with a bang. He looked right at the Spive. “I heard the young man say he’d be there soon. We’re enjoying a well-earned supper here.”
    “What’s that you say?” Mr. Spivey sometimes pretended he was hard-of-hearing.
    Pop Chilly raised his volume. “I said, not quite done with supper !”
    “Shh! Pop!” Mattie touched her father’s arm. “Settle down.”
    “I’m settled!” Pop growled. “This is communication. This is how it’s done—geezer to geezer.”
    Then, because timing is everything, our own Officer Runkle came biking down the drive with another Rocky Shores bike cop right behind him—somebody new. The Spive scuttled away around the fence into his own yard.
    “Hello, fine Marrisses and fine Marriss friends!” Officer Runkle called. (He did some community theater on the side. Mom always admired the depth of his voice. “He’s a bit like a town crier,” she said.)
    “Hey, Runks!” Lil waved one arm over her head.
    “And how are you this warm summer eve?” Runks asked.
    “Stuffed!” Pop Chilly called.
    “Runks, I’m afraid we didn’t leave you or the other officer a single clam,” said Lil. She gave thenew guy a wave and he returned it.
    “Not to worry,” he said. He stood astride his copsicle and patted his gut. “We’ve already dined, thanks. I’m really here to introduce you to our recruit. Say hello to Officer Macey.”
    A few things about the new cop stood out. First, he seemed young for a cop—about the same age as our new friend Robert, I figured. Second, he had that white-blond hair. The kind that looks like it’s glowing in the dark even when it’s daylight. And finally, he was a beast. Biker muscles, big-time.
    “I thought Macey should get to know you,” Runks said. “He’s on bike duty for now. Fast as lightning, he is.”
    I believed it. It’d be fun, I thought, to get him out on the highway and just try and keep up. But it wasn’t like I had time on my hands.
    Runks turned to Officer Macey. “The Marriss Bike Barn is the nearest and dearest stop when a cable snaps or the gears turn rickety. These are good people to know,” he said.
    “We’ll put you ahead of our orders and get youback on the road,” I told him. “Just like we do for Runks.”
    “I do most of my own maintenance and repairs,” said Macey. “But thanks. I’m still glad to know you’re here.”
    Dad would like that, I thought. He always said it just made sense to be able to do at least minor fixes on any machine you own.
    “So how goes the bike-repair biz in these days of fewer carbon emissions?” asked Officer Runkle.
    “Busy,” I said. “Vince and I are working overtime.”
    “Slaves,” said Vince. “Child labor. Call the authorities. Oh wait, you are the authorities, aren’t you?”
    Eva sat forward. “Officer Runks, did you know that Dad and Mom went away? They can’t get back to our house because the pumps dried up,” she