Free 13 Gifts by Wendy Mass Page B

little boy.
    Bar Mitzvah Boy = The Hamburglar = David Goldberg?
    David thumps his chest and says, “I shall return.” He crosses to the other side of the pool and starts climbing down. The rocks sticking out of the side make almost as good a ladder as a real one. Except that the rungs of a real ladder don’t fall off with no warning. David slides down about a foot, joined by falling pebbles and dirt on either side of him. The crowd that has now gathered lets out a collective gasp.
    “I’m fine,” he calls as he regains his footing. He straightens his glasses and continues the rescue. Soon he’s on his way back up, stuffed bunny clamped between his teeth.
    “You could have just tossed it up to us,” Rory says, pulling the bunny’s ear from David’s mouth.
    He shrugs and dusts the dirt off his knees. “Wouldn’t be as dramatic.”
    Rory holds the bunny up by the opposite ear, kind of distastefully. She shakes off the dirt before lowering it into Sawyer’s waiting hands. She gives one last shudder as he hugs it.
    She must really not like dirt.
    I’m starting to feel a little weird standing here like I’m a part of their conversation. Then David says, “Rory has a thing against bunnies.” It takes a few seconds to realize he’s talking to me. I guess it wasn’t the dirt, after all.
    Rory stomps her foot. “The bunny tried to kill me, David. He would have gone after my whole family next. Or he might have followed me here one time while I was babysitting Emily. And then after he destroyed
her
whole family, he would go across the street for yours!”
    He rolls his eyes. “So you keep saying.”
    I have this fear that if I don’t talk to Rory soon, she’ll walk away. And even though I don’t know why it matters to me one way or another, I only know I don’t want her to go. So I ask, “Your brother’s stuffed animal tried to kill you?”
    David chuckles. “It was a pet bunny,” Rory explains. “I only had him for a few weeks. It’s very frustrating because no one believes me about the evil that lurked within him.” She glares at David as she says that last part.
    “That must have been scary,” I say, because I want to be on her side.
    “See?” Rory says. “Even a stranger believes me.”
    “She’s not a stranger,” David says. “Her name’s Tara, and she’s Emily’s cousin.”
    Rory beams at me. “You’re the guest of honor, then!”
    I feel my cheeks get warm, first because David knew my name, and second because I’ve rarely been a guest before, to say nothing of the guest of honor. “I guess I am,” I admit. “And David’s the Hamburglar?”
    He nods. “When my mom and I moved here in third grade, my only friend for a while was this kid Connor. My last name’s Goldberg, so he started calling me Burger, then Hamburger, then the Hamburglar. It just stuck.”
    Amanda and Leo appear from out of the crowd, blackboards swinging on their chests. “Rory,” Amanda says, “I thought you said your brother only eats pizza and soft pretzels.”
    “He added hot dogs last month.”
    “We learned that the hard way,” Leo says, wiping his hands on his jeans.
    Amanda turns to David. “Nice rescue, Bee Boy.”
    David thumps his chest again, then bows deeply.
    Bar Mitzvah Boy = The Hamburglar = David Goldberg = Bee Boy?
    Noticing my confused expression, Amanda explains, “It’s from a thing that happened in fifth grade.”
    “Did he get stung by a bee or something?”
    Amanda and Leo laugh. “No,” Amanda says, “he looked like one.”
    I glance at David, who, in his blue shorts and white button-down shirt does not in any way resemble a bee. Emily was right; these two are a little odd.
    “I didn’t look like a bee,” David insists.
    “Yeah, you did,” Amanda says. “You were wearing black and yellow, and you flew out of the classroom door like, well, a bee toward a flower!”
    David shakes his head. “I still don’t understand how you just happened to show up that day with a