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something. It was as if he’d doled out so many more words than usual, my mother owed him a few back. But she didn’t answer. She just shrugged her shoulders and got back in the van, closing the door, turning the key in the ignition, and placing her hands on the steering wheel, all with the slow, controlled movements that told me my mother was trying her best not to fly off the handle.
    We passed Sarah’s bus in a cloud of dust on the way to the main road.
    Finally, when we were back on pavement, my mother turned to Bernie: “‘We never stay in one place long.’ That’s what he said.” She continued, imitating Mr. Kervick’s raspy voice. “‘It might do ya to remember that.’”
    “I’m sorry, Julia…” Bernie had been out of conversation range, lost among the tall grass of the Jun Dun Plain. “What were you saying?”
    “Was that supposed to be a threat?” she asked him.
    Before I could contribute a resounding “Yes!” from the backseat, my mother twisted the volume on the radio, and we were awash in the unsafe decibel levels of her favorite classic-rock station.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Marked as an Unfortunate
    As if this wasn’t enough extracurricular activity for one day, my mother and I set out after dinner to run a few errands. This included picking up her work boots from the repair shop and purchasing a dress.
    Paul had invited my mother to the fish fry at the Lions Club on Friday night. He wanted her to wear a dress. This doesn’t seem odd unless you know my mother. As soon as she started paying her own way, Julia Donuthead stopped wearing dresses.
    “I just don’t prefer them,” she’d respond when challenged. Her willingness to buy one now told me that things with Paul were taking a very serious turn.
    As soon as I got in the van, I noticed something odd suctioned to the dashboard. It looked like a test tube.
    “What is this?” I asked, pointing to it.
    “What is what?” My mother pulled out into traffic.
    “This.” I reached over and put her hand on it.
    “Oh…um, nothing.” She pulled it off the dash with a
thwock
and stuffed it in her glove compartment.
All while accelerating to forty-five miles per hour.
    “I still saw it,” I said, waiting for the explanation.
    “It’s a vase, all right, Detective Donuthead?”
    “If it’s a vase, why doesn’t it have flowers in it?”
    “I found you a community-service activity,” she announced as we turned into the parking lot of Alpine Shoe Repair.
    I sighed. “Fine.” As with a number of things going on lately, no further explanation would be provided. “I thought
I
was supposed to find me a community-service job.”
    After carefully considering my choices, I had decided that Sarah and I could stuff envelopes for the Land Conservancy. They had a nice renovated office on Main Street. The worst outcome I could think of was a paper cut,
and
it wouldn’t require much of Sarah’s concentration.
    “I met up with Mack Putnam down at Perkins’ Drug Store, and he said Grace in the library could use some help reshelving the books. Her knees aren’t what they used to be, and the picture books are all down by the floor.”
    “Are we speaking of Mrs. Boardman in the Pelican View Elementary library?”
    “Right. Sorry. Mr. Putnam, your old principal, wants you to help Mrs. Boardman, your old librarian.”
    “Library aide,” I corrected her. “But I can’t go back to Pelican View Elementary. I’m a sixth grader.”
    We’d pulled into the department-store parking lot, and my mother unlocked the doors.
    “Oh, Franklin, it’s not a hard job. It’s better than touching germy kids. There’s almost no possibility of being struck by lightning or held hostage at gunpoint. Just make my life easy for once and do it without the endless commentary, okay?”
    “Well, I…” I could see she was dead serious. My mother gets very stressed out when she goes shopping. “Okay.”
    “Now grit your teeth and help me find a dress.”
    “Okay,” I