Free Snow Globes and Hand Grenades by Kevin Killeen

and an envelope, one she had taken in case of a typing mistake. Instead, she used it last night, after she came home from the golf course, to type another fake letter from the school saying they were looking forward to her coming and wished her a safe summer. That letter she could maybe swap out with the first letter when it arrived—if Patrick and Tony failed in their mission.
    â€œWe can’t just walk up to a mailman and rob him,” Patrick said. “He’ll see us and tell the police what we look like.”
    Tony kept quiet, because that was true.
    â€œHere’s my plan,” Mimi said. She opened up her book bag and pulled out two pair of aqua blue dishwashing gloves.
    â€œWhat’s that for?” Tony said.
    â€œCan’t leave fingerprints,” Mimi said. Then she got out two facemasks. One was a black wool ski mask and the other was a rubber Halloween mask of President Nixon. “Just put these on, run and grab the letter, and no one will know who you are.”
    â€œThat’ll never work. He’ll still see our ties and uniforms and know it’s somebody from the school,” Patrick said.
    Tony twisted his tie.
    â€œI thought of that. You’ll just have to strip down to your underwear.”
    The boys looked at each other and burst out laughing.
    â€œNo way in hell. Someone will see us,” Patrick said.
    â€œDon’t worry. I’ve been in my underwear outside before and nobody saw me.”
    Patrick and Tony tried not to glance at each other as Mimi kept talking. They both studied her eyes and her hair and her lips and thought of her pale skin and white underwear gleaming in the bright after-school sun. The train tracks stretched out behind her onto the bridge deck and down the long straight away that ran along the golf course. The scrub brush that grew along the sides of the track was mint green and budding. How could they say no to her, a girl standing there like a wildflower, asking them, essentially, if they were brave enough to do this one little thing for her?
    â€œI’ll do it,” Tony said, “as long as I can wear the ski mask.”
    Patrick looked at the Nixon mask and then at Mimi’s green eyes.
    â€œI’ve got a whole plan for the snow globe investigation,” she said, “but first we just need to get this letter out of the way.”
    They agreed to rob the mailman in front of her house during recess, and then they walked to school, arriving as Father Ernst and Detective Kurtz entered the school building to examine the student files in the office.

    â€œClass,” Miss Kleinschmidt said, “We’re going to rehearse your graduation ceremony in the gym today, after recess. But first, today in history …”
    The morning hours passed slower than picking an elbow scab that wasn’t ready to come off yet. Miss Kleinschmidt opened the windows that faced the school’s front lawn and the rows of big houses across the street. Fresh air and birdsong, and the purr of passing traffic reminded the students there was an outside world they would soon be a part of, a free world beyond eighth grade. But they had to get through the next two weeks and the snow globe investigation and another long morning of captivity. First there was algebra, and social studies, and reading time. Patrick got out his book on Dillingerand read the part where Dillinger knocked off a bank in Greencastle, Indiana. It was a corner bank across from the town courthouse along a row of busy shops.
    Dillinger and the gang stepped out of the sunshine into the bank with guns drawn announcing a holdup. The teller on duty, a nervous young man, led them to the safe. It was a double combination safe, and the teller had to dial the numbers just right or it wouldn’t open. He got it open and later told the newspaper, “It was easy with a Tommy gun pointed at my head.” Dillinger and the gang made off with $70,000 in cash and securities