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.”“Except I’m not sure the witch is dead,” Summer said.“Dorothy and her friends might get assaulted on the way home.”“No way,” Trevor said.“Those guys are going to stay a million miles away from us.They probably think we have super powers or know voodoo.Would you mess with somebody who could turn gravity against you?”“No, but who knows if they’ll be able to make sense of what happened? They might decide we drugged the candy and they dreamed the weird results.I mean, what happened seems impossible.”“If all else fails, we break out the Shock Bits,” Trevor said, as if that idea ended the discussion.“Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?”“Depends on what they’re trying to do.”“What if it stops their hearts?” she asked.“When I shocked that guy, he flew a long ways.A lot farther than any stun gun would throw him.And stun guns can give people heart attacks.”“We’ll do what we have to,” Trevor said.“Now that we started fighting back, we can’t let up, or they’ll make us pay for years.”“That’s exactly right,” Nate said, approaching with Pigeon.“They asked for it.Once they stop asking for it, we’ll stop giving it to them.But not before.Besides, after today we should add some new weapons to our arsenal.”“I hope you guys are right,” Summer said.“You’re as bad as Pigeon,” Nate accused.“There is nothing wrong with giving a stupid, mean bully a taste of his own medicine.”“Except Denny isn’t stupid,” Summer said.“Mean, yes.Stupid, no.And unlike some bullies, he’s not a coward.Last year he thrashed a sixth grader who was bigger than him.”“Tom Turrel?” Trevor said.“He was big, but it was all fat.”“Would you have fought him?” Summer asked.“No way—what if he sat on me!”“Sounds like Summer might have a thing for Denny,” Nate said.Summer clenched her teeth.She wanted to slap Nate for saying something so stupid and embarrassing, but managed to restrain the impulse.“I’m just saying we should be ready for Denny to come looking for revenge, no matter how scared he should be.”“We’re with you there!” Trevor said.“Why do you think we’re sneaking home a different way?”“We want to be careful,” Nate said diplomatically.“We’re also having fun enjoying the victory.”Summer resisted a smile.“It was pretty funny,” she admitted.“They were freaked out.”“It was the most hilarious thing that has ever happened,” Pigeon agreed.“I’m just worried it might cost me my life.And that my mom won’t be able to stop eating fudge long enough to hold a funeral.They’ll probably just dump me in a hole in the backyard.”The four of them walked west along Oak Grove Avenue, the street that granted access to the school parking lot.Going home this way would make the walk nearly twice as long, since they all lived south of the school, and the first few southbound cross streets west of Mt.Diablo Elementary ended in cul-de-sacs.The slope at the rear of the school continued west for some distance before the incline diminished, allowing a road to connect the top of the ridge to the bottom.A block down from the school on Oak Grove waited a boxy old ice cream truck.The shabby vehicle was painted a faded blue.Music chimed from hidden speakers.The words Candy Wagon were emblazoned on the side in black cursive.A semicircle of kids huddled around the opening in the side of the truck.“Is that Mr.Stott?” Pigeon asked hopefully.“Looks like it,” Trevor said, hurrying forward with Pigeon at his heels.“Who’s Mr.Stott?” Nate inquired, continuing alongside Summer.“He’s the best ice cream man,” she said, “but he hasn’t come around for over a year.”Summer and Nate caught up to Trevor and Pigeon, who were waiting behind other kids.Mr.Stott was handing a red-white-and-blue Popsicle to a young black girl.He looked to be in his late sixties or seventies.His silver beard hung halfway down his chest and had a pair of dark streaks that ran from his chin almost to the end of his whiskers.His bushy eyebrows dipped and bobbed expressively, and he wore his silver hair smoothed back close to his scalp.Notwithstanding his age, Mr.Stott was robust, with a gruff, grandfatherly voice.“Any of you guys have money?” Trevor begged.“I’ll pay you back.”“My mom gave me a ten this morning,” Pigeon said reluctantly.“I’m supposed to buy white fudge on the way home.”“Spot me?” Trevor persisted.“What I want is only fifty cents.”Pigeon had reached the front of the line.Only the four of them remained beside the truck.“Here are some familiar faces,” Mr.Stott chuckled.“Trevor, Pigeon, Summer … and I’m not sure I’ve met you.”“Nate,” Summer said.“Hi,” Nate said with a little wave.“Good to meet you,” Mr.Stott boomed.“Sebastian Stott, at your service.”“Where have you been, Mr.Stott?” Trevor asked.“Here and there,” Mr.Stott said.“At my age, an extended vacation now and again helps keep the motor running [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]