“I bought it,” Shawn said.

“With what money?”

“Money I earned,” Shawn said.

“Would that be money you earned taking care of Mrs. Calloway’s garden?” Henry said.

“Why do you ask?”

“Because she just called,” Henry said. “Apparently she paid you in advance for your work, and now all her flowers are dead because you never showed up to take care of them. She wants to sue you.”

“Good luck to her,” Shawn said. “It’s not like I have any assets, thanks to a medieval allowance policy around here.”

Shawn turned the control box upside down and banged on the bottom. The plane in Henry’s hand gave a cough and a shake, and the propeller kicked over. Henry grabbed it and held it in place until the toy stopped struggling.

“Maybe I should have said she wants to sue me,” Henry said. “But the lawsuit isn’t the important part. Hell, if she was stupid enough to pay you in advance, she shouldn’t be allowed to own plants anyway. But you said you’d take care of her garden and you killed it.”

“It was a weasel,” Shawn said.

“Oh, that’s good,” Henry said. “You took care of her flowers, but a weasel destroyed them.”

“I’m not talking about a rodent,” Shawn said. He walked over to his father and tried to pry the plane out of his hands. Henry didn’t let go. “I’m saying I didn’t lie. I told her I would take care of her plants to the best of my ability. Well, this was the best of my ability. That’s a weasel.”

Henry stared at his son, wondering as he had so many times before exactly what he had done in a previous life to deserve this. “You want to go into court and explain this weasel to a judge?”

“It’s the truth,” Shawn said.

“A weasel is not a legal defense,” Henry said. “If anything, it’s going to make a judge really angry. He’ll find a way to put you in juvie just for smarting off to him.”