The Crossroads

Zack and Davy waited in the woods until they heard the garage door grind up, then grind down.

“She’s off to the movies or Mrs. Emerson’s house,” Zack said, tugging down on his Mets cap, ready for action.

“Good thing you suggested it, pardner.”

“Yeah. But what about your father? Won’t he wonder where we are?”

The boys had hung back near the stump while Davy’s dad hiked across the highway. The old man had never looked back to see if the boys were following him.

“Pops? Shoot, he’s plum tuckered out. I’ll betcha he marched straight home, plopped into bed, and forgot all about us. You grab some matches?”

“Yeah.” Zack zipped open his gym bag. “I brought the whole box.”