"…all she asked was where they were going," Butch let this final sentence rest like some horrid pie on the windowsill of a haunted house.
"That's it?" Mikey eventually croaked, fearfully. Butch removed the toothpick from his mouth before he answered
"She didn't have to say nothin' else. She knew she'd made a mistake too big to come back from."
Everyone shifted uncomfortably.
"Man, that's the worst story about getting braces that I've ever heard," Vince said, finally snapping everyone out of their terror trances.
"That's what's out there for you kids," Butch said coldly wile scanning the playground with narrow eyes. "But it's not the worst thing you have to worry about."
"It's not?" Spinelli squeeked.
"Come on Butch, you can't dogpile nightmares onto us just for fun." T.J. said, mustering-up his leadership.
"If I wanted to scare you for the sake of scaring you I'd tell you about Jr. High gym class!" Butch verbally slapped back while leaning-in on T.J. "But that's only a matter of time for all of you — and not worth worrying about now. No, what I'm about to tell you is something you don't have to see, don't have to cross paths with."
Butch turned around and walked towards the playground fence. He stopped and stared up and away. The gang all looked at one another while they waited anxiously for Butch to continue.
"I like you Detweiler. I like all of you guys. So I hope you listen, really listen." Butch turned back around and held his finger to his mouth. "But I can't tell you here. Follow me — but don't look like you're following me."
Butch strolled off towards the trees along the far edge of the playground. T.J. led the gang on a bowed path, chatting about this and that, and keeping an eye on anyone keeping an eye on them. Shortly they joined Butch behind an old oak tree, they all sat down in the small clearing walled by large rhododendrons.
After checking over both shoulders, back towards the open playground, Butch finally began.
"Do you know where you are?" Butch asked.
"Third Street School!" Gus replied earnestly.
"I think he meant exactly where we are sitting right now," Gretchen kindly responded to Gus.
"Grundler's got it. Where you're sitting right nowis where it all began for him."
"For who?" Spinelli queried, her natural skepticism returning as her impatience grew.
Butch reached into his pocket for a fresh toothpick and placed it smoothly between two bottom teeth. He chuckled to himself.
"For who?" He asked rhetorically. "How about, for Jeff Shepard!"
The blood in everyone's vein instantly ran cold. Vince made a move as if he was going to get up and run away. T.J.'s hat suddenly felt too tight.
After an oppressive, adrenaline deaf thirty seconds Gus broke the silence.
"Who's Jeff Shepard?"