chapter 12

HENRY

There was no way Henry was going to school. He couldn’t face anyone there. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate in math on percentages, or in science about solids and liquids.

On instinct he headed for Wayne’s house.

The middle of the trail between Henry and Wayne’s went through a red pine grove. It was like walking on an old carpet. Henry’s boots stopped snapping and shuffling, and he could hear the birds chasing after the wind, and the squirrels scraping their claws up and down the bark of the trees. He always loved this place, the quietest place on earth, the place that brought him straight to Wayne’s.

“Out of the way!” a voice screamed from behind him.

Okay, not quiet today.

Henry jumped, Brae jumped, and Henry swore the trees jumped too. He turned around. His up-the-hill neighbor, Nopie Lyons, bombed down the trail on his bike. His hair was in his eyes, a huge backpack pushed his chest onto the bike frame, and silver boots came up over his pants. He looked like a cross between a turtle and an electric mixer. Nopie was a freak of nature, and he was coming straight at Henry.

Henry dove out of the way just in time.

“You’re going the wrong way for school, Nopie!” Henry yelled as Nopie sped away.

Brae loped after Nopie.

“C’mon, Brae,” called Henry. “Stay with me.” He remembered the last time he had seen Nopie. The time before the funeral. “Please stay with me.”