“Good thing you trust your feelings,” Joe said approvingly. Fiji tried to smile back.

“Something’s going to happen to the boy tonight,” she said. “I think so, at least. He’s been growing so much, and he seems so different from other boys, anyway. I don’t know what it is, but I know he won’t be the same after it.”

Joe nodded. “Don’t forget to tell your cat,” he said. He’d put the dog down, and Rasta was prancing around Fiji’s ankles, smelling the cat on her legs and shoes.

“Mr. Snuggly seems to know. Better than I do. He’s already told me to get a litter box ready for tonight. Normally, he just goes outside.”

“We’ll take Rasta out at the last minute and then hope for the best,” Joe said. “Remember, Fiji. I know you are strong, and I know you are powerful. But no running outside to pick some last-minute herbs for supper or to stand in the moonlight to cast a spell.”

“Do I seem that scatterbrained to you?” Fiji shook her head. “Don’t answer that. I promise, I won’t try to rescue anyone. Have you talked to Bobo?”

Joe shook his head. “I’ll leave that to you, if you have time. I need to get Rasta home. The heat’s too much with all his fur.”

“Okay, I’ll stop in,” she said. “I think Manfred and Olivia have been gone today? You’ve texted them?”

“They’ve been told,” Joe assured her.

“Bye then, and thanks. Stay safe, Joe.” She glanced both ways and then ran diagonally across the intersection and up the steps to the old door to the pawnshop.

It was gloomy inside as it almost always was, and she stopped to get her sight back.

“Hey, Feej,” Bobo called from the back of the store, which was much larger than it looked on the outside. She began fumbling her way back. By the time she reached him she could see.

Bobo was examining a vest. He’d spread it out on the top of an ancient table with carved legs, which probably should have gone to Joe’s antiques shop instead of his own business. That happened, from time to time.

“Is that leather?” she asked, sidetracked for a moment.

“Sure is,” he said. “But I don’t know what the leather is made from. What animal, I mean. Could be anything.”

“Even a person?” She scrunched up her nose.

“I guess so.” Bobo seemed mildly amused by the idea. “It looks pretty cool, though, so I hope not. Maybe when Lemuel comes back, he’d know.”

“I don’t even want to think about that,” she said. “Listen, Bobo, I got a warning from Joe.”

“Joe?” She had his full attention.

“He says to stay in after dark tonight, no matter what.”

Bobo thought about that for a second. “Did he say why?”