“I got no use for that stuff.”

“You won’t know until you try.”

I say sullenly, “All summer I babysit Cassie.”

“Bring her along. I have a play area for little kids. How about two p.m. on Saturday?”

“There were four of them! What good is karate then?”

Docker doesn’t bother answering. “Bye, Cassie. See you, Brick,” he says and jogs down the driveway. Jogs like it’s his natural pace, no wasted motion.

“Cassie,” I say, dabbing at my lip again, “you’re not to tell anyone, anyone at all, that Floyd beats up on me. If you do it again, I’ll never take you back to the library. Or MacTaggart’s.”

She sucks in her breath. “But it was a big Bang-up.”

“He’d be real angry if he found out I’d blabbed on him.” Floyd’s anger she understands.

“Okay.” Then the thumb goes back in her mouth. “Let’s go inside,” I say.

Six months ago. School’s back after the Christmas break. Behind the gym, when Brian Colpitts won’t hand over his new Atlanta Braves ball cap, I try roughing him up. But he’s always just out of reach, dodging, deflecting my fists with his arm, landing kicks so fast I don’t see them coming. Kicks that sting. Power behind them. Other kids are starting to gather, so I take off, looking as though the whole thing is nothing to do with me.

Later, I learn that Brian’s taking karate.

Lie down.

For supper, make hot dogs, which Cassie eats in front of the TV. Supervise her slopping around in the tub, so what if she forgets the soap.

Oh, the Places You’ll Go! is downstairs.

Recite her favorite picture book instead, about a stripy cat and how it finds a good home. Then I do something I’ve never done before. I lean over and give her a kiss. On the top of her head. Her hair tickles my nose.

I say, “G’night, Cassie. Night, Rover. See you in the morning.” That’s regular, at least.

She says sleepily, “Horton’s a happy elephant.”

I leave the bedside lamp on low, because of her nightscares, close her door, clean up the bathroom, which looks as though a force-three hurricane passed through, go to my room, close the door, swallow four Advil—who cares what the maximum dose is—and very carefully lie down on the bed.

I survived the day.

Just because Marigold kissed Cassie doesn’t mean I have to. First thing you know, she’ll expect it. Every night.