CHAPTER I- The Bridge

Henry crossed the road behind him. "Aw, Mr. Righteous Goody Two-Shoes." Mark quickly crossed to the other side of the road. This time Henry didn't follow.

Not for the first ten minutes of the walk home, at least. It amazed Mark how long the walk back was; maybe the shock of what he'd done- what he'd just helped Henry do- made it seem all the longer. But Henry crossed the road one more time, and came up beside Mark. When he did, Mark realized Henry had not at all decided to leave him alone. He'd gotten the message, surely; Mark's actions must have shouted that he didn't want to talk to Henry. But his cousin was here, walking quietly beside Mark.

Thinking.

What about became clear when Henry spoke. And when he did, it was with a different tone than before. Not gleeful, or mocking. But serious, excited in a new way- as if Henry was eager to hear Mark's response but trying not to show it.

"Mark, how did it make you feel when your mother died?"

Anger flared within Mark. The nerve of even asking something like that, after causing that pileup on the highway! "Shut up."

"Mark. I want to know. How did it make you feel?"

Mark halted, his shoes scraping on the cold, ice-encrusted edge of the pavement. Henry stopped too, without a sound. Mark looked him straight in the eyes. Henry's eyes were cold; they always were. But his face was solemn, and his manner- apparently- sincere. For whatever reason, he really was asking. Henry prompted him. "Did it make you feel helpless, Mark? Like there was nothing you could do?"

Mark nodded, slowly. That was true, but why did Henry care? Henry looked straight at Mark, a strange light dancing in his eyes. "Mark, you have to stop being afraid all the time. You have to stop letting the world control you, and start controlling it."

Mark looked at his cousin, his emotions in turmoil. What they'd just done… it was unforgiveable. It was wrong in every way. Afterwards Henry's joy at the carnage had been just sickening. But what was he doing now?

Mark put his confusion into a question. "What do you mean? How can you talk about this, after what you just did-"

Henry cut him off. "It's about who you want to be, Mark. Man or mouse?"

This question Mark just didn't understand. He wanted to turn away, to put his back to Henry and ignore him completely. Just walk home. But something- Mark couldn't say what- kept him from actually doing it. Henry repeated the question. "Man or mouse?"

Thoughts and emotions swam around in Mark's head, and his heart. Reasons for either answer waged war in his mind. But ultimately Henry's words in the tool shed came back to him. "I can show you something amazing. Something you'll never forget. Are you in?"

A long time seemed to pass; maybe it was just a minute or two, but it felt like eternity. Finally Mark spoke.

"Man."

And Henry smiled. "No more tests, Mark. You've passed." Mark looked at his cousin, shocked. "You were testing me? All those times! Kicking me at the table, then the dog, then this!" Henry nodded. "That's right." "So what happens now?" Henry shrugged. "I don't know just yet. But it's cold, and they'll be looking for whoever dropped Mr. Highway." A smile crept back onto Henry's face, one that glinted off his ice-blue eyes. Henry had an idea, and Mark found he was, in spite of himself, somewhat excited to find he was a part of it once more. Henry gestured down the road where they'd been walking. "Let's head home, brother." And the two walked on in a silence much more comfortable than before, side by side observing the lead-gray sky and the newly-fallen snow.