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coming out of the forest didn’t help Tick’s anxiety much after his experiences with the freaky thing in his bedroom and the ghost-face in the alley. He yelped and started to run down the street toward his home, only making it two steps before he tripped over a chunk of ice that had fallen off the back of someone’s tire well. His face slammed into the fresh snow, which was, to his relief, powdery and soft.
    By the time he scrambled up from the ground, the enormous woman was beside him, helping him to his feet instead of ripping out his throat. Her face fell into a frown, as though saddened to see him so afraid. Her expression somehow made Tick feel guilty for running away so quickly.
    “’Ello,” she said, her voice husky and thick with a strange accent. “Pardon me looks. Been a bit of tough journey, it has.” She stepped back, towering over Tick. Her eyes were anxious and hesitant and the way she fiddled with her huge hands made him think of Kayla when she was nervous. The gesture made the giant lady seem so . . . innocent, and Tick relaxed, feeling oddly at ease.
    She had thick black hair that cascaded across her shoulders like a shawl, her face square and homely with bright blue eyes. Her gray clothes were wet and worn, hanging on her impossibly thin body like droopy sheets on a wooden laundry rack. The poor woman looked miserable in the cold, and the slight hunch to her shoulders only added to the effect. But then she swept away that impression with a huge smile, revealing an enormous set of yellow teeth.
    Tick knew he was staring, but he couldn’t look away. “You’re . . . huge,” he said before he could stop himself.
    The woman flinched, her smile faltering just a bit. “I’m a bit lanky, I’ll admit it,” she said. “No reason for the little man to poke fun, now is it?”
    “No . . . I didn’t mean it that way,” he stammered. “It’s just . . . you’re so tall. ”
    “Yeah, methinks we established that.”
    “And . . .”
    “Lanky. Come to an understanding now, have we?” She pointed down at him. “The little man is short and ugly. Mothball is tall and lanky.”
    Tick wasn’t sure he’d heard her right. “Mothball?”
    The woman shrugged her bony shoulders. “It’s me name. A bit unfortunate, I’ll admit it. Me dad didn’t have much time to think when I popped out me mum’s belly, what with all the nasty Buggaboo soldiers tryin’ to break in and all. Fared better than me twin sis, I did. Like to see you go through life with a name like Toejam.”
    Tick had the strangest urge to laugh. There was something incredibly likable about this giant of a person. “Bugga- what soldiers? Where are you from?”
    “Born in the Fifth, I was, but lived in the Eleventh for a season. Ruddy rotten time that turned out to be. Nothin’ but midgets stepping on me toes and punching me knees. Not fun, I can promise ya that. At least I met me friend Rutger there.”
    Every word that flew out of the woman’s mouth only confused Tick even more. As hard as it was to believe the sheer size of the lady standing in front of him, the conversation was just as bizarre.
    “The Fifth?” he asked. “What’s that, an address? Where is it? Where’s the Eleventh?”
    Mothball put her gigantic hands on her hips. “By my count, you’ve done asked me several questions in a row, little man, and none time to answer them. Me brain may be bigger than yers, but you’re workin’ it a bit much, don’t ya think?”
    “Okay, then,” Tick said. “Just answer one.”
    “Ain’t it in the Prime where they say ‘Patience is a virtue’? Looks like you missed out on that bit of clever advice.”
    Tick laughed despite the craziness of it all. “Mothball, I’m more confused every time you speak. How about you just tell me whatever you want, and I’ll shut up and listen.” He rubbed his neck, which hurt from looking up at her so much. His scarf was crusted in snow.
    “Now that’s more like it, though I