They left Ida Nee’s and started walking down Lake Clara Road, back toward town. Raymie was carrying Beverly’s baton and her own baton.

Beverly stopped occasionally to beat Ida Nee’s baton against the small rocks and gravel on the side of the road. The lake glinted, appearing and then disappearing again, as the road curved and they walked farther and farther away.

“Where are we going?” asked Raymie.

“We’re getting the heck out of Dodge,” said Louisiana.

“That’s right,” said Beverly. She stopped and beat some more gravel with Ida Nee’s baton. “Getting. The heck. Out.”

“I know what,” said Louisiana.

“What?” said Raymie.

“It’s time. We Three Rancheros should go and rescue Archie.”

“We’re not the Three Rancheros,” said Beverly.

“Well, who are we, then?” asked Louisiana.

“Look,” said Beverly. “That cat can’t be rescued.”

“You said you would help. Let’s just go to the Very Friendly Animal Center and ask for him.”

“There is no Very Friendly Animal Center!” shouted Beverly. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

Raymie stood between Beverly and Louisiana and flexed her toes. She was suddenly terrified.

“Are you going to help me or not?” said Louisiana. She stared at Beverly and Raymie. Her bunny barrettes glowed a molten pink on her head.

It was so hot.

“Fine,” said Beverly. “We can go and look for the cat. All I’m saying is that you don’t understand how the world works.”

“I do so understand how the world works,” said Louisiana. She stamped her foot on the gravel. “I know exactly how it works. My parents drowned! I am an orphan! There is nothing to eat at the county home except for bologna sandwiches! And that is one way the world works.”

Louisiana took a deep breath. Raymie heard her lungs wheeze.

“Your father is in New York City,” said Louisiana. She pointed at Beverly. “And you tried to get to him, but you couldn’t. You only made it to Georgia, and Georgia is just the next state up. That’s not far away at all. And that’s how the world works.”

Louisiana’s face was very red. Her bunny barrettes were on fire. “And your father,” she said, twirling to face Raymie, “has run away with a tooth-cleaning person, and you don’t know if he’ll ever come back. And that’s how the world works! But Archie is King of the Cats, and I betrayed him. I want him back, and I want you to help me because we’re friends. And that’s also how the world works.”

Louisiana stamped her foot one more time. A little cloud of gravel dust rose up between the three of them.

Raymie could feel her soul somewhere deep inside of her. It was a small, sad, heavy thing, a tiny marble made out of lead. She knew, suddenly, that she wasn’t going to become Little Miss Central Florida Tire. She wasn’t even going to try to become Little Miss Central Florida Tire.

But Louisiana was her friend, and Louisiana needed to be protected, and the only thing Raymie could think to do to make things better right now was to be a good Ranchero.

And so Raymie said, “I’ll go with you to the Very Friendly Animal Center, Louisiana. I’ll help you get Archie back.”

The sun was high, high above them. It was beating down on them, staring, waiting.

“Fine,” said Beverly. She shrugged. “If that’s what we’re doing, then that’s what we’re doing.”

They walked the rest of the way into town in silence.

Louisiana led them.