CHAPTER NINE
OCTOBER 28, 1960
We had an honest-to-God day off from school today, so I didn’t have to create one. Russ picked me up just after noon in his dad’s old Ford truck, a lumbering relic with a steering wheel as big as the trunk of a sequoia. Just bouncing around in that old cab makes you want to yell words like “yee-haw” out the window.
We decided to stop for a Coke at the sundry store. Russ and I slid into a booth, rubbing our butts along the vinyl just to create those rolling-fart sounds. When Snarls heard the rumble, he laughed and stepped out from behind the pharmacy counter. My mouth fell open when I saw his face. He had a shiner so bloody-looking it could have doubled as his liver. Even his puff of red hair was flat, which was unsettling in an odd way.
“Whoa!” I yelled. “
