“How can you remember that if you weren’t even here?” asked Austin.

“There was still talk when I moved to the neighborhood.”

Must have been some fire if there was still talk nearly twenty years afterward, thought Austin.

“Talk about what?” said Macey.

Miss Miklowsky tried to remember. But nothing came to her.

Thirty-eight years ago. Austin was sixteen this year. Thirty-eight was more than twice as long as he had been alive. He could readily imagine that a person would remember nothing from thirty-eight years ago. On the other hand, his grandmother could still quote poetry she’d memorized in grammar school, seventy years ago.

Austin and Macey circled the fire to find a good toasting spot. Macey’s grandmother had patiently toasted her marshmallow to golden perfection. “Nana, does 1959 sound right?” asked Macey.

“For what, dear?”

“For the fire at the Demitroffs’ stable.”

“I’m foggy, dear. These bonfires blend in, you know. Every flame the same as the next.”

Austin’s marshmallow was perfect. He showed it to Macey, who thought he was offering it to her, and she ate half his marshmallow off the stick. He ate the other half, and the gooey sweet taste was the taste of summer. “Why are you interested in the fire, Mace?” asked Austin.

“I need a local history project. Don’t you? You have Mrs. Johnson, right?”

He nodded. “I’m going to have a hard time. I’m not local, and I can’t work up any excitement about local history.”

“The fire prickled at me,” said Macey. “I feel itchy from it.”

A horn honked three times, in a rhythmic pattern: short, short, long.

“Oops, it’s Mom and Dad,” said Macey. “Guess I’m not spending the night after all. Bye, Nana! Bye, Papa! Got to run.” She was showered with the good-byes of neighbors, like falling stars.

“You would think they could bother to get out of the car,” said Macey’s grandparents, more loudly than they needed to, “and come say good evening to us all.”

“Bye, Mace,” said Austin softly. “See you tomorrow.”

In the flickering light, her smile was just a curve. “I was going to skip Saturday Group, Aus, but if you go, I’ll go.”

She was still holding the marshmallow stick he had whittled for her.

2

“Lindsay, use your head,” said Graff. “You can’t take that designer leather jacket and your cell phone. You’re just setting yourself up.”

“My mother said I have to take the cell phone, in case we have to call for help.”

“I’ll be there,” said Graff. “You won’t need to call for help. We’re going to be in a church basement.”

“But the church is in the worst neighborhood in the whole city,” said Lindsay.

Actually, the kids were pleased to be visiting the worst neighborhood in the whole city. They lived in a town that had only best neighborhoods, so danger and poverty intrigued them.