To find out, I raised the cylindrical piece. When it stopped from an internal block, the conductor’s cab fell off in my hand, exposing a hollow middle. I cringed. Had I broken the train in two? I scrambled to put it back together, but the cab wouldn’t fit, not until I fully lifted then lowered the chimney. Sure enough, the toy was whole again. Like a secret key, the smokestack locked the cab into place.

I wanted to run back and show Big Vera, then wondered if she already knew.

“I told you it’s mine!” The outburst turned my head.

Along the wall, just yards away stood a boy I almost didn’t recognize. Shined up like a new penny, Arie Jansen wore a sweater vest over a collared shirt with cuffed gray pants, hair slicked and combed. Add to that his jutted chin and puffed chest, and he didn’t appear at all the solemn kid from the apartment next door.

“Yer really that daft, are ya?” The freckled boy dominated in height and mass, yet neither deterred Arie, who answered through gritted teeth.

“I warned you. Now give it back.”

The bully studied the small wooden plane he held, surely a gift from the barrel, as if contemplating the threat. “Eh…I don’t think so.”

Arie’s glare narrowed as the other boy continued to goad him.

“Course, if it’s that bloody important to ya, you can go and get—”

Arie hauled off and lunged for the airplane. The two fiercely grappled until the larger boy wrenched his arm free. I gaped when he pushed Arie against the wall, but Arie retaliated by slamming the kid’s chest, causing the bully to jerk in surprise.

“Fergus!” a man barked, and the boy grimaced. “It’s time we were off. Give the lad what’s his.”

Fergus apparently knew not to argue. With a huff, he held the plane out for Arie. “Fine, have it, ya amadán,” he said—clearly not an endearment—as his father started away. Before Arie could accept, Fergus dropped the toy and stomped it with his boot. Arie flinched, I gasped, and a snickering Fergus took off after his father.

Slowly Arie bent and scooped up the pieces. After more than a year of our living in proximity, with Arie just one grade higher at school, we’d yet to exchange even a single word. His only sibling, a sister with a honey-blond ponytail and sapphire eyes, would offer smiles in passing. But already eighteen, she was rarely seen for all her activities.