THE PRINCIPAL had a tomahawk framed on the wall behind his desk and a ball musket mounted on another, and on another were his diplomas, three of them with gold stickers and cursive signatures on the bottom, and a painting of a man fighting a tall bear with a sharp long stick and mountains behind them. Terry laughed on the sight of it, but he couldn’t say why

I never had a pet, Terry said.

Get one.

Where?

Pet store. People got dogs for free all the time.

I don’t want a dog.

The principal sent him home for two days. Terry balled the pink suspension note and threw it to one of the trashcans in the courtyard.

He smoked a short joint on the way home, laughed and couldn’t stop. His ribs hurt.

He sat in his room and he looked at the backyard. The leaves turned some.