"That's where Mrs. Henderson lives," Gus said, pointing to the large white house on the corner.

"The crazy cat lady?" Shawn gasped. "That's Mrs. Henderson?"

"She doesn't own any cats, Shawn."

"Oh. I assumed…"

"And she's not crazy."

"She was walking around wearing a knit cap in broad daylight, Gus. That doesn't exactly scream sanity," Shawn retorted.

Gus glared.

"If you're going to be mean to her…"

"I won't. I won't. I'll be good. I promise."

Gus eyed Shawn warily. He'd been burned one time too many to trust that innocent smile.

"I mean it, Shawn. Mrs. Henderson is really nice. She babysat me sometimes when my parents were at work."

"I'm sure she's wonderful. Mary Poppins with Coffee Nips."

"Don't you dare be all…Shawn-y….to her."

"You don't want me to be cool and witty?"

"I don't want you to be a jerk."

"I'll pretend you didn't say that. Just knock on the door and ask her if she saw someone take my bike."

"Fine. You stay here."

"You really don't trust me, do you?"

"Not even a little bit. Stay."

Gus left Shawn on the sidewalk and marched up the path to Mrs. Henderson's house. He hesitated for a moment before knocking.

It took Mrs. Henderson a few minutes to come to the door. Those few minutes were enough, however, for Gus to form an evil plan of his own.

"Gus!" Mrs. Henderson beamed when she finally answered the door. "I haven't seen you in a long time! How are you?"

"Fine, Mrs. Henderson. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm okay. The hearing's not what it used to be…but you know how that is."

How would I know? Gus thought to himself. I'm twelve.

"Uh-huh."

"Did you need something, Gus? Did your Frisbee go on my roof again?"

"No, ma'am…umm…it's about my friend. Shawn Spencer. See him over there?"

Mrs. Henderson peered out the door, squinting into the sun.

"I think so. The cataracts…"

"Well, the thing is, he has to do a report for school about what it was like to live in the United States during WWII. He was hoping you would be able to tell him all about life back then."

"Really?" Mrs. Henderson sounded touched.

"Oh, yeah. He's too shy to ask you himself, but he was hoping you could tell him all your stories. He said that, too. He wants to hear ALL your stories. Every single one."

"Aww, he sounds like a sweet boy."

"Oh, that's Shawn."

Gus couldn't help grinning.

"Did you have time this afternoon?" Gus asked.

"Of course! You two come right on in. I'll fix you some tea."

"I would love to stay, Mrs. Henderson. But I have a dentist appointment. Shawn will be thrilled, though. I'll go get him."

Gus started to walk back up the path.

"Oh," he turned back. "You don't happen to have any Coffee Nips, do you? Shawn loves Coffee Nips."

"Of course I do!"

"Great!"

Gus ran back to Shawn.

"Great news, Shawn! She knows where your bike is!"

"Really? Where?"

"She won't tell me. She said she can't be sure it's really yours. You'll have to go talk to her."

"Okay," Shawn shrugged.

Gus watched in satisfaction as he went into the house, unknowingly facing hours of endless, rambling stories.

"Don't tell me I'm not Don Johnson," Gus snorted.