Joe stifled a laugh. “Hey, Chief, maybe if you lick the map you can find—” 

“Here we are.” Chief stabbed at the map with his index finger. “Main Street across from . . .” He folded the map down and looked at the sign on the street corner. “Across from Green Ave. Perfect. We need to find a place to hunker down until we figure out where we can find the Tomato and the Cornstalk.” 

Chief handed back half the map to Joe. “Hold this end, Joe.” Together, they huddled over the map. 

Chief pointed at their location. “Here we are, on Main Street, across from Green, you see that?” Joe nodded. Chief moved his finger along the map. “We’re going to go here, to this green area that looks like a park or some kind of open space.”

On the map it was labeled “Junkyard Dogg,” but Joe was too busy concentrating on Chief’s directions to mention it. Chief handed Joe the map, and he shoved it back into the glove apartment, a crumpled mess.

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