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I needed, and I was looking forward to starting the actual painting.
    So when I headed into the hardware store to return Feniuk’s sunglasses and wash out my paint things, I was feeling pretty good.
    Until I overheard Mrs. Costello from the flower shop giving Feniuk a piece of her mind.
    â€œYou’re a fool, Sam Feniuk,” she was saying. “What you should be doing is calling the police. The boy is a hoodlum. Hasn’t he proven that? He’s going to rob you blind—or worse! Mark my words. Leo is right. Young people these days can’t be trusted. Call the police before it’s too late.”

Chapter Nine
    When I heard that, I felt like a race-car driver who’s just bounced off a brick wall. I was totally stunned. And that’s because during the last three hours—for the first time all summer—I hadn’t been thinking about the war with Feniuk and the other merchants. That morning the only thing I’d had on my mind was the mural. I’d been so wrapped up in planning it out that I’d forgotten I was being forced to do it.
    But Mrs. Costello’s words jolted me back to reality. I wouldn’t forget again.
    â€œShe really said that?” Benny’s eyes widened with disbelief when I told the guys what I’d heard.
    â€œWhy are you so surprised?” Mike snorted. “We’ve known all along the store-keepers hate us.”
    â€œSo let’s give them a reason,” Danny said.
    â€œWhat kind of reason?” It was Benny again.
    â€œWell, you know how Old Lady Costello puts buckets of flowers outside her shop during the day?”
    We all nodded.
    â€œWhat if we cut off all the tops so that only the stems are left?”
    â€œGood one,” Mike snickered.
    â€œBetter yet, why don’t we just make a switch?” Horace suggested with a grin. “You know—weeds for flowers. You think people will pay $6.99 for a bunch of dandelions?”
    We all laughed.
    Then I got serious again. “But if we do any of that stuff, Feniuk might start thinking Mrs. Costello is right.”
    â€œDon’t you think he already does?” Danny looked amazed.
    I shrugged. “I guess, but he doesn’t seem quite as determined to get us thrown in jail as Jackman and the others do. When he caught me doing the graffiti, he could’ve called the police, but he didn’t. And he has kept his word about not telling my dad.”
    â€œSo far,” Mike replied skeptically. “But that could just be a trick. He might be sucking you in. Maybe he’s waiting for you to finish the mural before he rats on you.”
    I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”
    I had no idea why I was sticking up for Feniuk. I was as frustrated with the merchants as the other guys were. They’d done nothing but hassle us since the shopping center opened. It’s just that I knew what it felt like to be judged unfairly, and I didn’t want to do it to somebody else—not even Feniuk.
    â€œI guess we’ll just have to see what happens,” Horace said. “Let Feniuk make the next move.”
    That was fine for Horace to say. He wasn’t the one who’d have to answer to the cops and my dad if Feniuk did do something. But since I had no control over that, I just kept showing up at the hardware store and working on the mural.
    By the third day, things were starting to come together. The mural was growing into a storefront. It didn’t look like any of the stores in Fairhaven—no sense getting the merchants suspicious—but it still looked like a store.
    Using a technique called trompe l’oeil, which literally tricks the eye into thinking a flat surface is three-dimensional, I painted a blue-and-yellow-striped awning the length of the wall. It looked so real it seemed to pop right out from the building. On each side of the door I put display windows. I drew a No Littering sign on the wall, and under it I