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now egg-free.) If only I didn’t have to leave Vancouver. Not yet. Not yet .
    And “Black Socks,” the song I’d been belting out when I was five and Ardle had knocked on the door, came back to me:
    Someday I think I will wash them,
    But something keeps telling me
    Don’t do it yet,
    Not yet, not yet…
    A cloud of smoke encircled me, followed by a laugh-cough.
    â€œArdle!” I exclaimed, jumping. “That’s weird. I was just thinking about you.”
    Ardle grinned. His lips were pursed as if he were trying to hide his few lopsided teeth. “Checked out your house, but no one there. So I thought I’d stroll down to the park, catch some rays and wait fer a while. And here ya are…Whoa, that’s a gigantic sore yer friend’s got.”
    He peered over his cigarette and down the bench to Liesl, who’d finally finished layering on the lip-gloss. Her mouth was a round, red sheen, like the planet Mars.
    â€œLiesl the Weasel’s no friend of mine,” I replied sourly. “You won’t believe what she did to me the other day.”
    And I blabbed the whole incident to him. What can I say? Sometimes my lips have sneakers tied to them.
    â€œI’ll take care of this fer ya,” Ardle promised, adding ominously, “Nobody behaves like that to a kid of Mike Galloway’s.” He marched, in his bobbing-up-and-down way, past the bench and alongside the baseball field.
    â€œUm, wait,” I began uneasily.
    Talbot pitched. Liesl walloped the ball. Ardle leaped, smacked his knees and laugh-coughed hysterically.
    Talbot and Liesl turned and stared.
    â€œOoo, sorry,” Ardle apologized, wiping his eyes.
    More pitches, more wallops, more leaps and laugh-coughs.
    â€œNow look , buddy,” said Talbot. He started toward Ardle.
    Ardle held up his hands. “Sorry—it’s a condition I have.”
    Talbot hesitated. On his sensitive features, doubt struggled with his natural good manners toward an adult. “Maybe you could laugh and cough somewhere else,” he suggested.
    â€œSure, buddy! With McBean, you kin McCount on it.”
    Right. When Talbot made his next pitch, Ardle was still there. This time Liesl, her eyes panicky above her Mars-like mouth, freaked and missed completely.
    If only—if only —Talbot hadn’t glanced at me just then.
    Though I was chomping down on the inside of one cheek to keep from laughing, I couldn’t help letting a smile flit across my face…
    Ardle cheered my hits, which was a bit of a stretch. He sure was loyal to the memory of my dad.
    When I’d finished and was slinking away from Talbot’s accusing this-guy’s-a- friend -of-yours? expression, Ardle announced he had to go for fresh “smokes.”
    â€œHow many packs a day do you go through?” I demanded disapprovingly.
    â€œMeasuring by tens or dozens?” He bobbed off, laugh-coughing, past the wading pool and surrounding hedge at the far corner of the park.
    An ancient, dented gray Buick careened around the park, past the softball diamond, toward that far corner.
    From behind the hedge, a figure sprang up. I couldn’t see his dinner-plate face, but I didn’t need to. I’d recognize that bowl cut anywhere.
    Ardle started to cross the street.
    The gray Buick screeched toward Ardle. Bowl Cut leaped and reached for Ardle.
    â€œWATCH OUT!” I yelled, flailing my arms.
    Too late. The Buick slammed into Ardle, sending him Frisbee-like through the air to smash on the sidewalk.
    The Buick tore down the street. It swung left on busy Broadway. Amid the angry honkings of other motorists, it disappeared.
    I was already running to Ardle. I could see Bowl Cut bending over Ardle’s inert body, reaching inside his jacket pockets. Searching for the eighty-thousand-dollar king, I thought.
    The singing exercises I had to do each week for my voice instructor paid off. Though out of breath, I was able to