Scout and Piper are walking with their heads close together. “So wait… what am I supposed to call him?”

“Willy One Arm.”

“I call him Willy One Arm?”

“Well, it’s better than Mr. Willy One Arm, isn’t it?” Piper is almost through the dining room.

The kitchen is larger than I remember and there’s a brand-new electric icebox-the kind that doesn’t need ice-and a shiny stove that looks like the pictures in the Sears, Roebuck catalog.

A short wiry man dressed in the same clothes as Buddy Boy stands in the back of the kitchen rolling out dough with his one good arm. The other sleeve hangs down flat and empty.

“Willy One Arm… Scout and Moose. Scout and Moose… this is Willy One Arm.” Piper introduces us with a proud little smile on her face, like she’s showing off a really great baseball card collection.

Willy One Arm waves his one good arm, then shakes his stump, which makes the empty sleeve jiggle in the air, but it’s the pocket of his shirt that has my attention. There’s something moving inside it. Something alive!

“He does sleeve tricks. Want to see?” Piper asks.

Willy One Arm’s shoulder begins to move in a circular motion, pivoting his sleeve around with it. He gets it going pretty fast, before he catches his empty sleeve with his one hand and slows it to a stop.

“Wow,” Scout says. “That was good.”

My eyes are focused on his pocket. What’s he got in there?

Willy One Arm gives a little bow. He sticks his good hand inside his shirt pocket and takes out a mouse the size of a half-smoked cigar. The mouse is a smoky brown color with dirty bitten-up ears and a twitchy pink nose. Willy One Arm brings the mouse close to his face, as if he’s telling her a secret. “Molly, this here is Moose and Scout,” Willy says.