。 And even though my dad had been tossing me the same sort of
look all week； I could tell — he didn't like this girl
either。 “Hey！ Don't do that；” he warned her。 “There are some really valuable things in that
box。”
“Oh。 Well； how about this one？” She scoots over to a box labeled LENOX and looks my way
again。 “We should push it together！”
“No； no； no！” my dad says； then pulls her up by the arm。 “Why don't you run along home？
Your mother's probably wondering where you are。”
This was the beginning of my soon…to…bee…acute awareness that the girl cannot take a
hint。 Of any kind。 Does she zip on home like a kid
should when they've been invited to leave？ No。 She says； “Oh； my mom knows where I am。
She said it was fine。” Then she points across the street
and says； “We just live right over there。”
My father looks to where she's pointing and mutters； “Oh boy。” Then he looks at me and
winks as he says； “Bryce； isn't it time for you to go inside
and help your mother？”
I knew right off that this was a ditch play。 And I didn't think about it until later； but ditch wasn't
a play I'd run with my dad before。 Face it； pulling a
ditch is not something discussed with dads。 It's like； against parental law to tell your kid it's
okay to ditch someone； no matter how annoying or
muddy they might be。
But there he was； putting the play in motion； and man； he