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crazy, Timmy.
    You know that?"
    “Why?”
    "Mouthing off the way you did? Being a smart-ass? I thought he was gonna lay you out cold, man. One of these days you're going to get smart with the wrong person."
    “You sound like my mom.”
    “I'm just saying, is all.”
    “It's bullshit, and I'm not going to take it. He's not gonna push me around the way he does Barry.”
    Doug stopped pedaling and slammed on his brakes. His back tire skidded on the pavement.
    Balancing the plastic tube, he cleaned his glasses on his shirt.
    “You okay?” Timmy asked.
    “Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?”
    “Well, what he said about your old man ...”
    Doug shrugged. "Oh, I don't care about that. I i mean, it's not true. You know? My dad loves me. When he comes back from California, everyone will see."
    “Yeah.”
    Timmy glanced back at the house. Barry's parents had gone back inside. He wondered what price Barry's mother would pay behind that closed door, perhaps right now, for stopping her husband from hitting him. Then he wondered why she didn't do the same when he hit Barry. If she'd stuck up for her son's friends, couldn't she stick up for her own son as well?
    Doug put his glasses back on and smiled. It looked false. Strained. They coasted into the road. Timmy's handlebars were sweaty. So was Doug's shirt, especially around his armpits.
    “What are you thinking about, Timmy?”
    “Did you notice that both of Barry's parents had new jewelry on? It looked really expensive.”
    Doug shook his head. "No, I didn't see it. But big deal. As bad as he treats Barry and his mother sometimes, we should be happy he's spending money on them at all."
    “Yeah, I guess you're right. I don't know. Just seemed weird. He never does stuff like that. Barry has to bum money from us for lunch at school sometimes.”
    “Maybe Mr. Smeltzer got a raise.”
    Timmy shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.”
    “It's not really any of our business.”
    “I guess not.”
    “So what now?” Doug asked.
    “Let's go find Barry.”
    "You heard Mr. Smeltzer. He said we weren't supposed to play over there anymore.
    Said he'd kick our ass."
    "The heck with him. He ain't watching us right now.
    Probably went back to bed by now. Let's find Barry. I want to see this map you made."
    “But what if someone else spots us?”
    “Who's gonna see? Other than Barry, there's nobody out there this morning.”
    “Except for the dead people.”
    Timmy grinned. “Well, yeah, except for the dead people. They're always there. Wouldn't be a cemetery without them.”
    “Yeah,” Doug agreed. “It would just be a bunch of empty holes in the ground.”
    Chapter Two
    After making sure Barry's parents weren't watching them from the windows, the boys crossed Golgotha Church Road and wheeled around the church and into the cemetery. To their left, down over the sloping hill, were the old graves. Timmy noted again how two of them had sunk into the ground.
    In front of them, sprawling out behind the church, was the more modern portion of the graveyard. This part stretched nearly a quarter-mile to the west. It was split into three large sections by narrow, cracked blacktop roadways, each barely wide enough for a single car to drive on.
    The first road, off to their left, separated the older graveyard at the bottom of the hill from the more modern cemetery above. Halfway along this path was an old yellow clapboard utility shed with a rusty tin roof that was covered with fallen tree branches and leaves. Beyond the shed was another stretch of woods. The boys often played inside the old shed, gaining access, when they didn't have Barry's dad's keys, through a boarded up window at the rear, half hidden by a massive pile of dirt left over from new graves. Inside was a small backhoe, a riding mower, two push mowers, a grass catcher, winch, shovels, rakes, pickaxes, hoes, wooden planks and plywood to cover up open graves, canvas tarps, stone markers, plastic flowers and wreaths, vases for the graves, and little