Free Heads or Tails by Jack Gantos

would bury it for me.”
    “Sure.”
    “Oh, thank you,” she said. “I’ve had him for a long time and I think he deserves a proper burial.” She reached forward with her shaky hand and gave me a small paper bag. “His name is Victor,” she said. “He was good company.”
    “I’ll bury him right now,” I said. “In the field.”
    “That’s fine,” she said. “By the way, you can keep that policeman in my yard so the boys won’t drag it off every night.”
    “Thanks.” I looked at my watch. “I’ve got to get going.” She nodded her head up and down as she backed away from the window and slipped deeper into the gray light of the trailer. She looked like someone drowning.
    I ran out to the road. Donna wasn’t in sight. I crossed into the field on the other side and began to dig a hole by kicking up the sand and stones with the back of my shoe. I knew if Donna caught me I’d never have a second chance with her. She
hated
the old lady and she’d think I was an
idiot
for helping. When I thought the hole was deep enough, I put the bag in and covered it over. Then I searched around for pieces of rocks and shells to cover the grave and to spell out the name VICTOR.
    “What are you doing?” It was Donna.
    I jumped up and looked at her as if she were a crazed murderer who’d escaped from a mental institution.
    “You’re doing something for that old lady, aren’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Well, you shouldn’t. Once you start doing things for her she’ll be after you every morning. Why’d you think I quit? Are you burying something for her?”
    “Her bird died,” I said. “There’s nothing wrong with helping her.”
    “Yeah, I buried her other bird. Only, when I looked in the bag it wasn’t a bird but an old chicken leg. I told you, she’s nuts.”
    “Well, I looked in the bag,” I said, lying. “It was a bird.”
    “I don’t believe you. You’re stupid if you do anything else for that old basket case.”
    I didn’t know what to say.
    “So long, sucker,” she yelled back at me as she rode away. I felt like running after her and shoving her off her bike, but I didn’t. I finished spelling out VICTOR, pushed the policeman into the bushes, and went to class.
    On the way home Gary Rook wanted to know if I’d help him knock down a wasps’ nest in his carport.
    “Forget it,” I said. “After your sister almost killed me I don’t want to play at your house.”
    “Don’t worry about her,” he said. “She and Mom made up.”
    That’s what worries me, I thought. They make up one day so they can try and kill each other the next. They should both be arrested for soap-opera behavior.
    I rode past the drive-in and stopped at Woolworth’s. They had a pet department with singing canaries and parakeets. I looked them over carefully. I didn’t want to buy a dud, so I decided on the canary. It cost ten dollars, a lot of money. But Victor must have meant a lot to her.
    Back in my room, I unlocked my diary. I kept all my money taped between the pages. I counted the bills and the change. I still only had eight dollars.
    “Hey, son,” Dad called as he passed by my bedroom. “Get ready for dinner.”
    When we all sat down at the table, Betsy served. She’d made spaghetti.
    “We’re having an audit at the bank this week,” Mom said. “I’m going to be coming home a couple of hours later than usual.”
    “Jack, that means you’re going to have to help out more around the house.”
    “What’s that mean, Dad? I already do the yard work and garbage. It should be Betsy’s job to do the housework.”
    “Betsy already does more than her share with cleaning and laundry and now cooking,” said Mom. “You can do the dishes.”
    “Not the dishes,” I moaned. I had almost been flattened by Gary’s sister, I’d blown it with Donna Lowry, and now I had to do the dishes for my sister.
    “Well, I’ll make you a deal,” Dad said. “You do the dishes one week and Betsy can do them the