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for someone who owns a restaurant.”
    â€œTrust me, he picked a good place to own a restaurant, even if it rains. Even if it gets cold. The cold is amazing, actually. If you cry outside in the winter, your eyes actually freeze shut. Where else does something like that happen?”
    â€œYou’d have to be a crybaby to freeze your eyes shut.”
    Alex picked a stray potato chip off the floor and ate it, like it was no big deal that it’d been on the dirty floor. Just chewed and swallowed without even shouting, “Five-second rule!” I liked Alex, even if he was confused about Wisconsin. I wanted this almost-argument to end, so I didn’t let myself get mad about the crybaby thing.
    â€œSometimes I get the eye sweats when I’m sad, but that’s not crying .” I said it all calm.
    â€œI didn’t get eye sweats when I left my friends in Arizona, but they did. All of them. It was like an army of friends with sweaty eyes.”
    Alex was lucky to have an army of friends to miss. I didn’t have an army. The girls in my class didn’t invite me to parties or sleepovers because I don’t like dolls, jewelry-making kits, crafts, hair braiding, cookie baking, dancing, gymnastics, reading, cute clothes, or sparkle shoes. Those girls said my pretend-play is weird. At home I only had my neighbor Danny Kellerman. He liked making up stories, but he was only eight, and he spent summer in daycare. Plus he whined too much. Alex was way better than Danny Kellerman.
    â€œSo what should we do until the storm stops?” I asked.
    â€œYou better think of something because you can’t pester me all day.” The voice came from Mr. Edmund Clark, and I almost jumped out of my chair. He’d wandered into the kitchen for some water. I thought the kitchen must be as old as Mr. Edmund Clark. Someone had painted the cupboards white, but the paint bubbled and peeled. You could see dirt around the handles, too. The beige countertop was stained, and the floor was sticky. He should’ve been spending the gangster money on a new kitchen, or at least a cleaning lady.
    Alex asked, “When it stops raining, would you take us out in the boat? Maybe tubing?”
    â€œTubing? You can barely swim thanks to living in a state drier than the moon. Ari stona . Good lord. It should be a prison colony.”
    â€œI can float. Besides, I’ll wear a life jacket.”
    Mr. Edmund Clark said something that sounded like no just as thunder shook the house. Then he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and shook his head. “Damn thunderstorm. What am I going to do with you two?”
    Alex asked, “You wanna watch a movie, Christa?”
    Mr. Edmund Clark grumped. “Don’t be getting any ideas about changing up my television programs. You can run around the basement. But don’t touch my taxidermy or my tools.”
    I had no idea Mr. Edmund Clark was an artist. That made him a little less scary. I so wanted to touch his taxidermy stuff.
    Alex said to me, “One of his squirrels is posed like a ballet dancer spinning on one foot. It’s like something from a scary movie.”
    â€œIt’s funny! Don’t you know funny when you see it?” Mr. Edmund Clark slapped his hand on the table. “I’m building a collection for you and your father, so you have something to remember me by after I croak.”
    â€œDo we really have to play in the basement?” Alex asked.
    â€œSomething wrong with the basement? It’s an indoor playground.”
    â€œIt’s … dark,” Alex said. “That one stuffed raccoon doesn’t have any eyes. It’s old and scary down there.”
    â€œBasements don’t scare me,” I said.
    â€œMe, either,” Alex said. “I was just thinking of you.”
    Mr. Edmund Clark’s voice boomed with the thunder. “I’m old and scary! Ain’t nothing wrong with old and scary.” He got