“Now, hear me out,” I say. “Once we finish the pigs, we’re going to help Pastor Ernie with a new project he’s got going. We’re clearing that vacant lot next to Ron Redd’s because he and Figg are going to be building a playground there soon. I expect us to help out when it comes time for that, too.”

The guys all nod and agree with me. “I think we can handle that. Good call, Cap,” Nate says, patting me on the back.

It’s Thursday morning, and about half the team is gathered at Bucky’s farm, helping to load squealy pink piglets into a cage in the back of Bucky’s truck.

Bucky’s dad is there, too, helping corral the little animals while we load them.

“Yes, sir, this is going to be a good one,” Mr. Redd says, laughing while we bring pig after pig to the truck.

“And there’s no chance these guys are going to tear up the field, right?” I ask Mr. Redd. “We just want to inconvenience them, not ruin them.”

“Aw, no. These little porkers aren’t going to do anything to that big old field,” he says. “Not unless someone throws some feed down and they start digging for it. You’re going to be just fine. It’s prank season.… Taylor’s expecting you!” He laughs out loud.

Elijah has been quiet and a little withdrawn this week. He’s still speaking to me, but he won’t let me hold his hand or touch him. It’s almost like he’s lost in thought a lot. I’m giving him as much space as he wants, but I miss him so much.

“I’m glad you’re doing this with me,” I told him on our way out of the house this morning.

“I’m doing it for the team.” He smiled, climbing into Bucky’s truck for the ride back out to the Redd barn.

We decided earlier that after the team helped load the animals at Bucky’s farm, Bucky, Nate, Darien, Elijah, and I would be the ones to deliver the piglets. A mess of pickups driving onto the Taylor field before the sun comes up might cause a bit of a ruckus, and that was the last thing we wanted. We didn’t need to give Taylor a warning about what we were trying to do.

The drive out to Taylor takes about thirty minutes. “Did you remember the Crisco, Darien?” I ask, my leg shaking from nerves.

“Got it right here, Cap.” He points to a few grocery bags at his feet. “Quit worrying. This is going to go off without a hitch.”