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just kept asking me questions.
    â€œTry to stay calm,” she said. “What is your cell phone number?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said. “It’s not mine.”
    â€œThat’s okay,” she said. “Just tell me your address then.”
    â€œYou mean, my home? Where I live?” I said. What was I thinking? What an idiot. Why would she care where I lived?
    â€œNo, son,” she said. She didn’t laugh or make it sound like I was a moron. “Your address now. Where are you now?”
    That was even worse. I had no idea where this stupid farm was. I’d paid absolutely no attention to where we weregoing that day. I had other things on my mind. I’d been more concerned about what Shane was going to do to me when we got there.
    I tried my best to remember. I tried to remember where the principal said we were going. I’d been so mad he hadn’t cancelled the trip that I’d just blanked him out. I tried to picture the permission slip we had to get our parents to sign. Who reads those things? I didn’t. I tried to remember what Mr. Benvie called the stupid place.
    All I could think of was that guy coming back to terminate me.
    â€œAre you still there?” the operator said.
    â€œYeah,” I said. “I’m here.”
    Where was “here”? Tell her something.
    â€œWe’re at the end of a dirt road,” I said. “It’s off the highway.”
    â€œWhich highway, son?” she said.
    I didn’t know. There’s more than one highway?
    â€œTry to think of something you saw along the way,” she said.
    Shane’s yellow teeth? The metal rim around the bus window? Everyone laughing? That wouldn’t help. Before that—what did I see?
    â€œAh...Ah...Gas stations!...” I said. “Donut shops!...Houses!...Dogs...Trees...” I was desperate. I knew exactly how stupid I sounded.
    Then I had a brain wave.
    â€œWe’re at a farm!” I said. “Pigs...cows, you know. No electricity. No water... Um...um...” I was just throwing stuff out, talking as fast as I could. It was like I was on a game show and the timer was ticking. What else could I tell her about this place?
    How could I be so dumb? Of course. “Van Wart!” I said. “Van Wart!”
    I caught a glimpse of something moving in the barnyard. The guy was coming back.
    â€œWhat do you mean, son?” the operator said.
    I zipped back into the living room.
    â€œHe owns it!” I said.I could hear the back steps creak.
    â€œWhat’s his first name?” she said.
    â€œI don’t know!” I whispered. “Call the school. Call...”
    I could have killed myself. I should have thought of that earlier. I should have just told her Gorsebrook Junior High! She could have called. The principal knew where we were. It was too late now. I didn’t have time to say anything. The back door had opened.
    I closed the cell phone. Hanging up was cutting her off. Who knew if I’d have a chance to call again—but I couldn’t let the guy hear anything.
    He was cursing again. “Where did I leave my smokes?” He knocked some stuff around in the kitchen. He gave this satisfied sigh and said, “Ah, there they are.” Then he paused. Something was wrong. I could just tell. It was like the air froze.
    â€œWhat the...?” he said.
    He started walking toward the living room. I looked down and I knew whyhe was coming. He was following my footprints.
    My sooty footprints.

chapter twelve
    It happened so fast I didn’t have time to think. I just grabbed the first thing I could find and swung. I aimed for the guy’s head, but I missed. I hit him in the chest with one of those kerosene lamps.
    It was almost as good. It didn’t knock him out—but he went down. For a while, he even stayed down. He was slipping and sliding around on the floor. All that oil and broken glass made it hard for