For one moment I allow myself to think past this awful summer. To imagine myself walking to school side by side with Morgan. In my mind, I’m as tall as she is. My shoulders are back, my head and chin held high. Girls and guys say hi as we stroll onto the school grounds. Everybody sees me; everybody knows me. I’m not a teacher-pleaser or a peanut. I have a friend. I am no longer a loner.

I am so wrapped up in this daydream, I don’t pay attention to the drone of an engine growing louder.

Danger, danger. Two-wheeled noisy thing coming!

Or react to Diesel’s thoughts. Morgan looks up and waves at a burly guy on a motorcycle. He and the little girl sitting behind him wave back. The explosive splutter of the Harley Davidson is so loud now that Luanne covers her ears.

“Both hands on the leash!” I yell at Morgan.

Too late. Diesel rips away from Morgan. Attack! Attack! Two-wheeled thing threatens! He bounds toward the bike.

“Diesel, no!” With the stroller blocking me, I can’t make a dive for him. My legs and arms feel weighted, like I have to pull them through water to move. Time slows.

Morgan dashes in front of Diesel, waving her hands. “Stop!”

Wild-eyed, she bends down, snatches up the leash, then freezes.

The motorcycle rumbles forward. It’s going to hit both of them.

An image flashes in front of my eyes. Diesel high in the air, a Smart Car driving away. The Smart Car dissolves, and a motorcycle takes its place. Will Diesel die by motorcycle instead? Will Morgan die with him?

Is my second sight, as Morgan calls it, crooked?

At the last possible second the motorcycle rides up onto the driveway beside them and then down the sidewalk, till it comes to a stop a few metres away.

Diesel lunges for the motorcycle. Stay away from my pack. I will bite, bite, bite you!

The rider shuts off the engine.

Morgan yanks Diesel back by his leash. “Sorry, Uncle Lurch. Should have held him tighter. I didn’t know he liked choppers. Hi, Auntie Lynn.”

Bite, bite, bite, Diesel growls.

“Quiet!” Morgan stoops down, puts her arm around Diesel, and says something into his ear.

Diesel quiets down. You are part of Pizza Girl’s pack. I accept you into ours. His tail gives a double wag as he eyes the pair on the bike.

Pizza Girl? I thought Morgan was Wiener Girl?

She smells different today. Her last meal was pizza.

Luanne begins wailing and I take her from the stroller into my arms.

The small figure on the back gets off the bike. She’s wearing a red leather jacket paired with black leather pants. “Hey, Morgan.”

That girl is Auntie Lynn? I bounce Luanne and sway. “Shhh, baby, it’s okay. Everyone’s fine.”

Lynn pulls off her helmet, and her long, bright blond hair tumbles down. I see now that she looks about Mom’s age, with heavier wrinkles around her eyes and mouth.