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bug up his butt about something, and it sure wasn’t just the ice-cream man.
    ‘You want to tell me what your problem is?’ Marty said.
    Rick forced air out between his teeth. ‘It’s nothing.’
    ‘“It’s nothing” with you, usually means it’s something.’ Marty grinned.
    ‘Geez, shut up, will ya.’
    Kathy’s Korner Store wasn’t on a corner, but roughly halfway along Fifth Avenue. It was one of those old-fashioned buildings made from fibro sheeting with stairs running up one side to the residence above. An unknown, but obviously colourblind renovator had attempted to fix up the place by painting it banana yellow with hot-pink trim and bright green sign-writing.
    The condemned Starlight Theatre stood across the road, surrounded by temporary wire fencing. Marty looked at the boarded-up building and remembered the night his parents had come to see him in the Christmas play when he’d been nine. Marty had played one of the Wise Men and it had taken over a week to convince his teacher that he could manage to walk on stage without his walker. More than anything he’d wanted to look like all the other kids, not like some cripple. And he did, too, at least up until he’d fallen over another Wise Man’s crook and been pitched into the audience.
    Rick nudged Marty. ‘Whatta ya staring at that dump for? C’mon.’ He strode towards the shop door.
    Aaron was serving a woman with a whingeing baby slung over her arm. He looked up in obvious surprise as Marty and Rick pushed their way through the plastic streamers hanging in the doorway.
    ‘I could really go a double chocolate malted milkshake with extra everything right about now,’ Rick boomed. He swaggered over to one of the plastic table settings positioned near the drinks fridge, pulled out a chair and flopped into it. ‘Whatta ya say, Aaron?’
    Aaron handed the woman her change and a plastic bag containing a tin of baby formula. The woman put the baby, who was now screaming its head off, into a stroller and hooked the bag over the handle.
    ‘I said, I could really go a –’
    ‘Cut it out,’ Marty hissed, punching Rick on the arm.
    Aaron watched the woman wrestle the stroller out the door and glanced towards the back of the shop. ‘Yeah, all right, but I can only give you the one
    – unless you’re going to pay. And please keep your voice down.’
    Rick leaned back in the chair, hands behind his head, and grinned. ‘Don’t know about Marty, but
    I’m flat broke.’
    ‘One will be fine, mate. Don’t want you getting into trouble,’ Marty said, giving Rick a hard look.
    Aaron sighed and picked up two stainless steel cups. ‘No, it’s okay; I’ll give you one each. Mum won’t know.’
    Marty grinned at Aaron. ‘How’s stuff going with your step-brother?’
    ‘Great, so long as I stay out of his way.’ Aaron’s eyes flicked towards the ceiling. ‘He’s on the net chatting to one of his mates. Should be there for hours.’
    Aaron finished making the milkshakes and carried them to the table. ‘I’ve been thinking, you know, about yesterday,’ he said, licking his lips several times.
    ‘Look, it’s okay. I got a bit freaked out myself,’ Marty said. He picked up his milkshake and gulped it down until a cold spike hit him between the eyes.
    ‘Argh, brain-freeze.’
    Aaron licked his lips again and glanced towards the street. ‘You know, I even had nightmares about that stupid van, dreamed it was following me everywhere.’
    Rick laughed and slapped the table. ‘Sounds like you’ve been watching too many of them cheesy horror flicks, mate.’
    Aaron straightened up and tightened his jaw. ‘I’m telling you there was something seriously not normal about it.’ He turned and went back to the counter.
    Glaring at Rick, Marty said, ‘Aaron’s right. Besides, I had a few weird dreams myself.’
    Before Rick could say anything, the air was split by a jingling blast of ‘Pop! Goes the Weasel’.
    Marty’s heart slammed into his ribs.