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My mama and daddy run this drugstore here,” Slim said, jerking his thumb toward the window.
    MORGAN’S DRUGS
SINCE 1897
SCRIPTS, SCENTS, SUNDAES
    â€œAnd we’re not a bit rich. In fact, Daddy says he’s so deep in debt, whenever he walks into the bank it starts to trembling.”
    â€œHmmm,” Peter mused. “I should think a drugstore would make you pretty well off.”
    â€œWell, Daddy says Mama trusts people too much, and gives credit on faith. And Mama says Daddy feels too much pity for the sick, and gives away more medicine than he sells.”
    â€œWanna hang out with us?” Ruby asked Slim.
    â€œOkay.” Slim reclaimed the camera and hung the strap around his neck. “Y’all want some blow gum?”
    â€œSure,” Ruby and Peter said together.
    â€œMe too!” Bird added.
    Slim dashed into the drugstore and came back out with two handfuls of Bazooka bubble gum. He passed around pieces to Ruby, Peter, and Bird, too.
    â€œHappy birthday!” Bird said to Slim, as if he had just this minute heard the news.
    â€œWell, thank you very much, Bird,” Slim said. “And when is your birthday?”
    â€œDecember first,” Bird answered promptly.
    â€œThat’s right, Granddaddy,” Peter praised him, surprised and pleased that the old man remembered.
    â€œWhat year?” Ruby asked.
    â€œ
Ev
. . . ry year,” Bird said irritably. “Every gosh darn year that comes.”
    Slim and Ruby giggled, but Peter reminded Bird to watch his language.
    After visiting several stores, and introducing Peter and Bird to more people than they could keep straight, the small group reached the bus depot. From there, Busy Street became Highway 99, with a string of private homes. So they went back the way they had come, taking turns at reading the Bazooka comics.
    â€œHow do you make a handkerchief dance?”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œYou put a little boogie in it!”
    â€œWhen you step on a grape, what sound does it make?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIt lets out a little wine!”
    Then they had a bubble-blowing contest. When Bird blew the biggest bubble of them all, Slim took his picture. The bubble burst all over his stubbly face, and he giggled.
    â€œI don’t know when Bird has had so much fun,” Peter said as he patted his granddaddy’s shoulder with affection.
    Darkness had crept in, and many stores were closing up for the day. The street was almost deserted, as people had disappeared into The Beer Barrel or the Silver Screen. Others had crossed the bridge to Railroad Street to eat at The Boxcar Grill or to rollerskate at the Round & Round, or to bowl at the Back Alley.
    The night air was thick with smells of summer. Across the thoroughfare in front of the courthouse, moths could be seen flitting around the streetlamps. The curb had collected paper cups, Popsicle sticks, candy wrappers, and discarded gum. But the street sweeper would be along in a few hours, and by morning the town would be as clean and tidy as Miss Arbutus’s kitchen.
    Upon passing The Beer Barrel again, they spied Mr. Farmer, husband to Way Down’s postmistress, tumbling out the door, too intoxicated to walk straight. It was a bad habit he had picked up in the war. Ruby and Slim knew Mr. Farmer was not a bad man. He just needed a little extra help sometimes. So they took him home to his wife.
    Then Slim headed back to help close up the drugstore,and Ruby, Peter, and Bird continued toward their homes.
    As they neared The Roost, Peter said, “Thanks, Ruby June, for walking around town with me. You have given me a lot to think about.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œWell, Mama used to say nobody comes into our lives by accident. We have something to learn from everybody we meet. And I met a lot of people tonight.”
    â€œWell, come and meet one more,” Ruby said. “It’s our star boarder. He’s writing a book