I’m shrinking. I have lost eight inches in height and begun to sweat so much my skin is slippery clear down to my shoes. My father has nailed me and he doesn’t even know it.

“Moral of the story?” my father continues. “Shine your own shoes, you don’t have to worry about any of that.” He smiles at me.

“What about Trixle?” I ask in a wobbly voice.

My father cracks his neck. “Doesn’t mean it has to happen that way. Seven Fingers gets his chocolate bars. Trixle gets his shoes shined. It’s a dangerous game is all I’m saying.”

“Yes, sir,” I whisper.

My father’s face registers concern. “Didn’t mean to scare you, son. I won’t let you get in trouble. Don’t you worry.” He pats my back reassuringly, which only makes me feel ten times worse.

I’m not the kid he can protect anymore.

“That was a good thing you did, getting Rocky up there so quick, Moose… you know that?”

I clear my throat, try to get ahold of myself. “Thanks,” I mutter as Theresa comes tearing around the steps that lead to the front entrance of the cell house. “Moose! Mr. Flanagan! Rocky! Is Rocky okay?”

“He’s okay, sweetie. Just fine,” my father calls back. “Don’t you worry. Your dad will be out in a few minutes.”

“Are you sure?” Theresa demands, panting hard when she catches up with us.

My father pats her messy black hair. “I’m sure, little one. I saw him with my own eyes.”

Theresa nods like she’s taking this all in. “And my dad’s coming?” Her voice gets hoarse.

“Yes,” my father answers.

Theresa’s little face screws up with the effort of closing her eyes so tightly. She turns on her heel and runs back down the switchback.

My father frowns as we watch her run past Piper, who is on her way up. “What was that all about?”

“I dunno,” I tell him.

Piper’s taking big angry steps, her hands crossed in front of her. She has a fierce expression like she’s chewing chain link.

“I think you got another problem here, Moose.” My father nods toward Piper. “She’s a wild one. Think I’ll let you handle her on your own. Good luck with it.” He winks at me and pats my arm, barely concealing his grin as he turns and heads down the hill.

“You got to go into the cell house, didn’t you?” Piper asks when my father is gone.

“Sort of.”

“Sort of? You either did or you didn’t.”

There’s no way to keep this from Piper. You can’t pick your teeth on this island without everyone knowing exactly what you dug out.

“C’mon, what did you see?” she demands.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Capone,” I whisper.

“No! NO! I hate you so much! It’s all your fault, too, Jimmy!” Piper shouts down the switchback to Jimmy, who is heading our way.

Jimmy runs the rest of the way up to us. “What’s my fault?” he asks between breaths. He leans over like he has a side ache.

“Moose met Capone.” Piper glares at Jimmy. “MOOSE! He’s slow, he’s clumsy… he could have dropped him.”

“He didn’t drop him.” Jimmy’s voice is quiet.

“Yeah, well he could have,” Piper roars.

“Yeah, well he didn’t,” Jimmy spits back, “and everything worked out okay.”

“I’m gonna kill Theresa. She’s the one. I can’t believe you got to meet him.” Piper is standing an inch away from Jimmy, blasting him down.

Jimmy does not back up. “She didn’t do anything.”

“Heck she didn’t. She shoved me out of the way,” Piper insists.

“Look, Piper… Rocky’s fine, I didn’t drop him, and they’d never have let you meet Capone anyway. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re a girl,” I tell her as gently as I can.

“You’re a kid and they let you in,” Piper says.

“All I did is say hello to Al, so don’t get so burned up.”

“Al, is it? You’re his buddy now? What did you say to him?”

I shrug. “Hello. I said hello.”

Piper gets up close to me and shouts in my face. “You met Al Capone and all you said was hello?”

“What would you have said?”

“Something a lot better than hello.”

“Piper, nobody planned this, okay? It just happened. The important thing is Rocky’s fine. He could have died,” I tell her.

Piper shoves me hard. “Oh, don’t be stupid. Babies don’t die.”

Jimmy glares at her.

“What’s the matter with you? Of course they do,” I tell her.

“The one chance in the whole universe to meet Capone and you hog it!” She shoves me again.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, jeez,” I say, but Piper already has her back turned to me. She’s stomping up the hill toward her house.

I turn to Jimmy for support, but his lips are twisted like he’s trying hard to keep his feelings in. “You’re sorry?” he asks. “You save my brother and you get to meet Capone and you’re sorry?”

“I just don’t want Piper mad. When she gets mad, she makes trouble. You know she does.”

Jimmy snorts. “That’s right. Got to keep everybody happy, right, Moose?”

“C’mon, Jim.” I search his face trying to figure out why he’s so burned up at me. “You’re still sore about Scout?”

“I was never sore about Scout,” Jimmy says. “He’s not my friend. Why would I care what he does?”

“What do you want me to say here, Jimmy?”

“You just saved my baby brother, you don’t have to say anything,” he sputters, but his eyes won’t engage with mine.

“Then why are you all steamed up?”

He looks up at me like he’s searching for something he lost a long time ago. “The guys at my school are just like Scout. You can’t play ball, you’re no one,” he whispers, his voice strained. “You’re the only guy who likes what I like. It’s kind of important, you know?”

“Okay,” I tell him, “I know.”

Friday, August 16, 1935

The next day when I come in from the parade grounds, my mom pounces on me. “Hi, sweetheart,” she says. I take a step back.

She waits for me to look inside the icebox, check the breadbox, open the cake plate, and mop up the stray crumbs.

“Last piece is yours,” she offers.

I’m wolfing it down on the way to my room when she starts in. “You know I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. Natalie would really appreciate a visit. She’s been asking about you.”

“She’s coming home next month, right?”

“Look.” She puts her hands up, her nostrils flare. “I know you have a lot going on, what with your baseball and your friends here on the island.”

“And she doesn’t have anything,” I mumble.

“I didn’t say that, Moose.”

“You don’t have to,” I tell her.

My dad comes out of his room. He takes one look at us and seems to recognize trouble is brewing. “Did I miss something here?”

My mom and I look at him.

“When are you going to visit your sister?” he asks, guessing what we are discussing and automatically taking my mom’s side. He pours himself a glass of lemonade. “She misses you, Moose.”

“It hasn’t been that long.” I already feel cornered.

“No, it hasn’t,” my father agrees. “But we would like you to visit.”

How do I tell my parents I don’t like to go to Nat’s schools? The teachers talk to guys my age like they’re toddlers. And the kids never stop moving and swaying like a room full of wind-up toys each with its own weird rotation.

It could be me in there. Locked up that way.

I got lucky. Natalie didn’t.

But it’s more than that. I risked everything for the Esther P. Marinoff School. It has to be perfect. I can’t stand it if it’s not.

If only I could tell them what I’ve done for Natalie. If only they knew. Then they’d be sorry for making me feel like a heel just because I don’t want to visit this one stupid time.

Since Nat’s been gone, my mom goes up to the Officers’ Club and plays the piano every night. She spends the time she isn’t teaching playing music or cards with Mrs. Mattaman and Bea Trixle and Mrs. Caconi. My mom never even knew how to play bridge, and now she talks my father’s ear off about it. And me? I come and go as I please. I never have to think about anyone but myself.