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going to believe this. There are hitching posts stuck in the streets here! So, that's cool. And you know what? I met this girl who never stops talking.” I took a breath. “I'll send you a picture of our house when I find my camera. It's a fixer-upper, only it's falling down. Do you know what a painted lady is? Bye!”

T he pizza had given Mom a burst of energy. She was ripping open moving boxes like a madwoman. She stopped to grin at me. “We've only been in town for a couple of hours and you've already met a new friend. How cool is that?”
    “It helps to know one person before I go to school,” I said. “Even if it is a girl.”
    Mom smiled. “Girls can be good friends too, Baker. And after meeting Hannah, I'd say she's a perfect new friend.”
    “Yeah. She's okay. She's bringing her best friendover later. His name is Murray.” I ran up the stairs to unpack my stuff. I looked at Waldo.
    “Listen, Waldo. Guess what? We are living across the street from a girl who knows everything about everything.” I opened up a box. It was filled with Mom's purses. Thank goodness Hannah hadn't seen this box with my name scrawled across the top of it with Mom's red marker.
    It was getting late when I heard the doorbell ring again. I looked over the banister and saw Hannah's bright red hair bobbing next to a cowboy hat in the entry hall. I jogged downstairs.
    “This is Murray” Hannah said.
    “Hi,” I said.
    Murray smiled and said hi back. His brown cowboy hat was bigger than he was. His hair matched his hat. It was as dark as a mud puddle. So were his boots. He looked like the cowboys I'd seen in movies. I wondered if he owned his own horse.
    The three of us went out onto the front porch. I was glad that Dad wasn't there to mention Murray's boots.
    “Flip on the porch light,” Hannah told me. “It's getting dark out here.” I went back into the house, but I had no idea where the switch for the front porch was. After looking around for several minutes, I gave up. Hannah popped back into the entry hall.
    “The switch is over there,” she said, pointing to a switch plate across the room. “Mr. Miller had it moved.”
    “Why would he do that?” I asked.
    “Who knows? Mr. Miller changed lots of things. He didn't like those doors that folded back into the wall in the dining room either, so he nailed them shut. My dad nearly blew a gasket over that one,” Hannah said. “People are supposed to restore these old houses. Not destroy them.” She rubbed her hand along the wood that framed the front door.
    “C'mon,” she said. We headed outside. “What should we tell him first?” Hannah said to Murray, plopping onto the porch swing. “He needs to know everything.” She popped a red sucker into her mouth. “Suckers are my trademark.” She pitched a red one at Murray and an orange one at me. “Red's my favorite.”
    Did it mean anything that she gave me an orange one? I decided not to worry about it. Instead, I wondered if maybe I needed a trademark. Tootsie Rolls? Hershey's Kisses?
    “Let's start with the play,” Murray said, interrupting my thoughts.
    “What's so important about a play?” I asked.
    Hannah yanked the sucker out of her mouth and dragged her sandals across the wooden porch to stop the swing.
    “Not
a
play,” she said. “
The
play.”
    “Okay
the
play” I said. “Tell me about it.”
    “Every year the citizens of Franklin and Buffalo Gulch put on a fall festival,” Hannah began. “It started a hundred years ago. Everyone gets involved.”
    “It used to be just ranchers selling things like pies and cakes and homemade quilts and stuff,” Murray said. “And they showed their cattle, too. But over the years it turned into a huge celebration.”
    “We alternate hosting. Last year it was Buffalo Gulch. So this year it's us,” Hannah said.
    “What about
the
play?” I asked.
    Just then Mom came out with some Oreos. “I found these in the linens box,” she said, handing me the