“Whatcha want, Owl Eyes?” he said the name nasty, because he was sure it would bother Owl Eyes.

“Wanna play?”

“Play what? No, huh-uh, I don’t wanna play nothin’. I’m waitin’ for my sister, then I’m goin’ home to watch TV.”

“Thought’ch’d like to play for a while before your sister comes out. Why’d she hafta stay after school?”

“None’a your business, Mr. Big Eyes.”

“Bet she was bad!”

“You’re stupid, too. She’s beatin’ erases for Mr. Hollowell, that’s why, you stupid dope.”

But after a while, he gave in, and they teeter-tottered for a few minutes, and ran around until Leroy tripped Rodney Parish and made his glasses all dirty. Then Rodney said, “Hey, get onna swing. I’ll make you go high.”

“Okay.”

So Leroy Tarvish went high. Very high and very fast, and at just the right moment, at just the right speed, Rodney Parish slammed the swing sidewise, flinging Leroy Tarvish into the metal pole bracing the swing. Leroy Tarvish’s head hit with a crunch and stuff came out even after he lay there in the dirt.

And not till he had straightened up, after crouching for a long time watching the gray stuff, did Rodney Parish realize Leroy Tarvish’s sister, Sophie, was standing by the school door, giggling.

Rodney grew tired quickly, perhaps because Sophie was older. But he did not catch her that afternoon. And the next day no one said anything to him about Leroy Tarvish, so he knew Sophie Tarvish had not ratted on him. But she was a stinker, and he knew she would have to die.

He thought he had her that afternoon, when he followed her into the girl’s toilet, but Mrs. Kneipper saw him and dragged him out with indignation. He could have shoved Sophie out the window and she would have died beside the flag pole on the sidewalk.

It made Rodney feel high and warm and nice to think about it.