“We only have two pills. But I think I know where I can get more.” I filled the tin cup with water and helped Grace sit up. She took both pills, then lay back down. I draped the wet washcloth across her forehead. She closed her eyes and fell back asleep. I sat by her for the next hour, then went back to the house.

I found Joel laying out baseball cards into fantasy baseball teams.

“Grace is really sick,” I said. “We need to get her some penicillin.”

“Where do we get that?”

“Mrs. Poulsen.”

“That mean old lady down the street?”

“Yeah. Old people always have pills. When we were cleaning her garage I used her bathroom. There were pill bottles all over the place. She must have like a million things wrong with her.”

“That old bat won’t give us any pills.”

“I know. We’ll have to take them.”

Joel’s face showed sudden excitement. “You mean we’re going to break in?”

“No, she’ll let us in.”

“Why would she do that?”

“We’ll go shovel her walk, then I’ll ask to use her bathroom. When I get inside, I’ll take them.”

“I don’t want to shovel her walk.”

“It won’t take long, and then we won’t be stealing the pills because she’ll owe us.”

“She already owes us.”

“I know, but she doesn’t think so.”

“Well, I’m not going to shovel her walk.”

“Joel, we have to get those pills. It’s a matter of life and death.”

He shook his head and sighed, like he always did whenever I coerced him into something, which was a fairly regular occurrence. “All right.”

We put on our boots and coats and carried our shovels down the street to Mrs. Poulsen’s house. Even though it was only a few minutes past five the sun had already begun to set. As we shoveled we made as much noise as possible so Mrs. Poulsen would come outside. Still, it was at least ten minutes before she walked out on her front porch.

“That is so sweet of you boys. Would you like some hot cocoa?”

This would be easier than I thought. “We sure would,” I said. I set down my shovel and started for the door. The storm door slammed before I reached it.

A few minutes later she came out with a couple mugs. “Cocoa break.”

Joel and I put our shovels down and took a mug.

“Could we please go inside?” I asked. “It’s pretty cold.”

“Let’s just stay on the porch. I don’t want you tramping snow inside.”

Joel took a drink of the cocoa and grimaced. I took a sip. It tasted like someone had dipped a brown crayon in hot water, then served it in an unwashed coffee cup. There was a ring of lipstick on my mug.