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off his hat, and ran his fingers through his thinning gray hair. “Life’s chock-full of things that seem unpleasant. Like school. And sirens that wake you in the black-middle of night. And discarded nails, carelessly lying on the sidewalk, that puncture your bike tires and make them go flat. What you have to remember is that things that seem unpleasant usually aren’t all bad. Nails come in darn handy for hanging pictures on a wall. Sirens are necessary to get speedy help to someone in need. And school, well school is one place where you learn about life. How big the dinosaurs really were. What state was the thirtieth to become part of this country. The life cycle of the frog. So you see, it’s not all boring. And some things—the best kinds—you don’t even learn from books. In fact, I learned the most during recess. And that’s definitely part of school.”
    Whitaker wasn’t totally convinced, but Barney’s words comforted him enough at least to let his mind drift back to matters of present importance. “Any mail for me, Barney?”
    â€œI hate to disappoint you, Whitaker,” Barney replied. Taking a deep breath and shrugging his shoulders, he continued, “But all there is today is this mailing from the new shopping mall for their first annual back-to-school sale. Were you expecting anything in particular?”
    â€œI was waiting for a letter from a friend. An answer to one I wrote.”
    â€œWell, sometimes it takes a while for someone to answer a letter. For example, I had been planning to write a letter last night, myself, but it was inadvertently postponed. You see, after dinner I took out my lawn chair to watch the sunset from my backyard. I only meant to stay out a few minutes. But the colors were magnificent. Red and orange and purple scudding around and around. And before I knew it, the sun was gone and right before my eyes were the most stars I’d ever seen. Dusted over the dark blue, they were slivers of glass, just winking away. I fell asleep and didn’t wake until the sun was back where the Eastern stars had been. Sometimes I think I could watch it all forever. So anyway, I didn’t write my letter. And maybe the very same thing happened to your friend.”
    â€œI doubt it. I don’t think my friend would be doing that.”
    â€œWell, you never know. But about that letter—the best thing you can do is check again tomorrow. And I have a feeling that it will be here.” Barney replaced his hat on his head, his sack already reslung over his shoulder.
    Whitaker followed Barney down the steps. Then he lay on the front lawn. He watched the clouds glide past the water tower. He thought about spaceships. He thought about the letter. He thought about school. He found the cloud that resembled Miss Smathers again. Then he pointed his finger and held his hand as if it was a gun. And he shot her.

CHAPTER 4
New Clothes
    I T HAD BEEN A BAD DAY all around for Whitaker. First his cigar had been confiscated. Next he had been reminded that school was soon to begin. He hadn’t gotten any mail. Then his mother made ham for dinner and managed to ruin it by smothering it with pineapple chunks and brown sugar. And to top it all off, right when he was in the middle of an after-dinner baseball game at Horlick’s Field with his friends (possibly the last of the summer), he heard the telltale rumbling of the family car getting closer and closer. His parents and Molly drove up in their beat-up ’64 Chevy Impala. Everyone in the neighborhood called it the Zebra, because it was white with striped primer marks stretching across the body from fender to fender.
    â€œHey, Champ,” Mr. Murphy called from the car, “we’re going to the new shopping mall to get school clothes. And that means you, too.”
    â€œBut, Dad, I can’t,” Whitaker yelled from second base. “We’re in the middle of a game. Tie