by his scorn.
Suddenly he changed the conversation. âYou have blood running out the side of your mouth.â
He let go of my hand and pointed at my face as if I didnât know where my mouth was located.
I reached up and touched my lip where Gary had punched me. âI just had my braces removed,â I explained, and wiped the blood on the back of my hand. âMy gums are still sensitive.â
âI have you pegged as a total fake,â Mr. Mercier concluded in a voice practiced at being cold. âA serial liar like Gary doesnât hang around with little farts like youâlittle mamaâs boys.â
Suddenly Gary was up on his toes. He stood like a boxer shifting his weight from side to side with his hands low and close to his hips, but his face was stretched all the way forward in anger.
âHeâs not a fake, Mr. M,â he declared, spitting his words. âHeâs my friend, and heâs helping me become a better person.â
âBetter for what?â Mr. Mercier asked. âLying?â
Gary stepped toward him, and right then I stood and put my hand on Garyâs shoulder, hoping to settle him down.
Mr. Mercier shrugged off Garyâs performance. âLet me give you some advice,â he said toward me, âjust in case you are blind or retarded in some tragic way. Gary is a criminal sociopath who makes things disappearâstarting with the truth. Heâs been in and out of foster care, juvie joints, and psych wards all his life. His brother, Frankie, has an IQ that doesnât add up to the coffee change in my pocket. The parentsâ nicknames are âDonât Workâ and âWonât Work,â and only the sister, who is a dog groomer, keeps this family going on dented cans of baked beans and Alpoâand one of these days sheâll wake up and ride off on a bullmastiff.â
âI donât think so,â I said. âThey seem to me to be a whole family that sticks together.â
âYeah, like a box of rats are a whole family,â he said sarcastically, and frowned. âLook, you seem like a nice kid,â he said evenly. âTake my advice and walk out of this house and keep going.â Once again he reached out and gripped my hand. âAny kid that enters this house will never leave as nice as when he arrived. You might think Garyâll end up being more like you, a mamaâs-boy-chess-king, but you will be more like himâa career criminal in his early years.â
Then he didnât so much release my hand as throw it back at meâbut this time it arrived with his business card folded into my fist. âYouâre playing with fire, kid. Do yourself a favor and leave. Now.â
I looked at Gary.
Gary pointed toward the front door. âYou heard the man. Go,â he said insistently. âSave yourself from me. You ever knock on my door again Iâll knock you unconscious.â He lunged at me with a mock punch.
I ducked anyway. âWhat about the Sea Cadets?â I asked. âMy dad paid in advance for that uniform.â
âTell him to call the admiral for a refund. Now beat it.â
I walked quickly out of his house, leaving the chess set behind, and crossed the crackling grass shards toward my front door.
I was embarrassed and angry. All I could do was think of vengeful little things like holding Garyâs head down in the canal and letting one of those Korean fish chew his face off. That would be satisfying. Or I could call the cops and have them dig up Garyâs side yard looking for bodies.
I grabbed my front doorknob and held it for a moment. Then I froze.
Was Gary pulling a fast one on me? I couldnât tell. He had changed so quickly from almost punching Mr. Mercier to then threatening me.
I went into our house and from behind our curtain I watched out my living room window and as soon as Mr. Mercier drove off in his Ford Falcon I went running back over to