“All right,” I said. I didn’t really feel like going to the garden center or the cemetery, but ice cream makes everything better.

Our first stop was the cemetery. As we pulled into the lot, the car’s tires crunched over the gravel. Dad parked in front of the groundskeepers' little house.

I used to think it was weird that Sarah and Richard—a really nice older couple—live in a cemetery, but when I asked Sarah about it once, she grinned and said she didn’t mind because at least the neighbors are quiet.

It’s a good thing they’re there to keep watch over things. Not to warn us of zombies or ghosts, but to be there in case of real problems. Recently some jerks vandalized another Jewish cemetery in the next town, where there aren’t people keeping watch. The vandals knocked over gravestones and even spray-painted some hateful symbols too. It was on the news, and made me sad and angry. Mom and Dad were really upset about it too. Sarah and Richard arranged for extra security lights and cameras to be installed, just in case.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Dad said as he grabbed the car-door handle. “You can wait here, ’kay? If you come in, Sarah will start talking, and we’ll never get the ice cream.”

I would have gone with him to say hi, but he’d made a good point. Sarah likes to talk even more than I do.

“Okay,” I said, “just leave me the keys so I can listen to the radio.

Dad turned the key so that the radio and air-conditioning stayed on. Then he got out and walked up to the house.

I saw Sarah answer the door and gesture Dad inside. A song I liked came on the radio, so I turned it up and sang along.

The next song wasn’t as cool, so I turned the radio down and looked around. What was taking Dad so long?

I scanned the sea of headstones, relieved that none had been knocked over and there were no signs of vandalism. But then something caught my eye.

Squinting, I quickly realized that the something was Oren. His right arm was still in a sling. He was wearing beige cargo shorts and a black Batman T-shirt. He was standing in front of two graves without stone markers. Even from a distance, I could tell by the way his shoulders were slumped and his body was shaking that he was crying.

I’d thought about him a lot since the funeral, wondering how he was doing. My parents had visited the shiva house a few times after that first time I’d gone, but they hadn’t seen him either. Shiva was officially over now, but even though the official week of mourning was done, nothing about Oren’s life would go back to normal. It never would.

I got out of the car, and started toward him. It was a while before he noticed me and looked up. His red, teary eyes widened in surprise. I suddenly worried he was going to run away.