CHAPTER 12
When Little Joe finally made it home with twilight descending behind him. The old streetlights had yet to switch themselves on, but would soon bathe the street in an unattractive orange glow. Sal was waiting for him anxiously on the front steps. He stood there, his lips curved down at the sides, and his eyebrows matching – usually the beginnings of a stern scolding. “Finally you’re home”, he chirped. “I bought some pizza, but it’s probably cold by now”.
The sun was beginning to set, but that put little damper on the enthusiasm of the myriad kids on the sidewalk running back and forth -- if anything they had just acquired their second wind with the departure of the ice cream truck – as its slowly receding music indicated.
Little Joe passed up Sal without a word, avoiding
