Jillian, sitting nearby, was clearly wishing she was anywhere else, but the truth was, they weren’t bad. Their choreography still needed a little work, but Allison could carry a tune, and Grant had stage presence. When they finished, a trio of boys with guitars from the high school Spanish club performed “Guantanamera,” which inspired a whole new crop of dancers to join in. Allison held out a hand to Terrance. “Want to dance?”

Terrance, too, was a lousy dancer, but he didn’t care. He did a few disco moves, then some Irish dance steps, with a little Mexican hat dance thrown in. Meanwhile Allison danced fluidly, smiling and laughing. The Cox boy danced with Kaye. Grant danced alone, while Suzanne and Adam sat on a blanket, both looking like they’d rather be home, sleeping.

Terrance tipped his head and body from side to side, making Ted think of the Peanuts characters dancing on A Charlie Brown Christmas. When the song ended, Allison kissed the top of his hand, and he kissed hers. Then he gave her a big bear hug, which made her laugh.

Ted offered some cider to Terrance, who was still tipping his head to the side. He was hot from dancing, his face moist looking. “The trees look funny,” he said.

“Funny how?”

“Like they want to take a nap.”

Ted looked where Terrance was looking, at the little copse of woods near the playground—he was right. Something did look off. Ted headed over to investigate, and Terrance followed. It was quieter there, and darker, the moonlight straining to make its way through the leaves.

Most of the trees looked fine, but others, no. The moon shadows were sideways, and indeed the trees themselves were sideways, their trunks bent or snapped clean. Not the big ones; the big ones looked all right. It was the small trees, saplings—just a handful of them. Two of them just leaned over toward the earth, but two others were uprooted, their trunks on the ground like fallen soldiers.

“Odd,” Ted said.

Terrance tugged the less broken trees upright, but they sagged again. He looked at Ted. “Don’t cry, Teddy. It’s okay.”

“I’m not crying.”

Terrance frowned. “Okay,” he said in the tone of someone who has been told the world is flat when he knows it is round.

“Cox,” Ted said, shaking his head.

“What’s that?” Terrance said.

“Our neighbor. He did this.”

“He did?”

“Yes.” Ted sighed.

Terrance sighed too. “Cox,” he said.

8

NOVEMBER 7

Lindy’s kitchen smelled good—like butter and cheese and all the things you were supposed to eat “in moderation.” Lindy’s mom was making a grilled cheese sandwich.