“Shawn!”

The bicycle sailed into the garage. Henry ran over to the driveway just in time to see Shawn’s best friend, Gus, hurriedly taking his place on the bike as Shawn jammed the cap over his head.

“Hi, Mr. Spencer,” Gus said. “I just got here. On this bicycle. With this cap on my head. In fact, that was probably me you saw riding up the driveway just now.”

“Was it?” Henry said.

“Oh, yes,” Gus said. “Because Shawn’s been here all morning, working away. Look at the excellent job he’s done stacking your paint cans.”

Gus pointed to a stack of cans. Henry had to admit it was meticulously shaped.

“If you just got here, how do you know what Shawn’s been doing?” Henry said.

Gus froze, searching for an answer. Shawn pulled the cap off his head and put it on his own.

“Fine, you caught us,” Shawn said. “Gus was cleaning out the garage while I went to see the shark for both of us.”

“I’ll deal with you in a minute,” Henry told his son, then turned to Gus. “You wanted to see the shark as bad as he did. Why would you let him take advantage of you like that?”

Gus looked puzzled. Apparently he had never thought of it that way. “Shawn said if he went, he could describe the shark to me in such detail, it would be just like I saw it myself. But if I went, all I could say was it was great. And white. So this way we both have the experience.”

“And Gus gets to improve his valuable can-stacking skills,” Shawn said. “I’m not taking advantage of him if we both win.”

“So you get to do what you want, and Gus gets to do what you don’t,” Henry said.

“Exactly,” Shawn said. “It’s a win-win.”

Henry sighed. Military school. That was the ticket. A few years of strict discipline might teach Shawn the lessons he resolutely refused to learn from his father. The only thing that stopped Henry from picking up the phone and enrolling him today was the fear that a few years with Shawn might end up undermining the entire military.