The policeman had already turned the corner onto Grove and was pulling up to where the Barge was sprawled in the street. The policeman stepped out of his cruiser, peered over the hood at Bones, who was sprawled in the mound of gunk, then said into his giant walkie-talkie, “The donut dunker has been apprehended. I repeat, the donut dunker has been apprehended.” 

We had only been in this place for a few hours and the big ofus already had a nickname. 

I spun my bike around and rode up to the pile of much, where Bones had already gotten up and was dusting himself off. “Did you see that, Lump? I did a full flip in the air!” 

The police officer looked at me and then at Bones. Was he angry? I couldn’t tell. 

“Boys, I’m Officer Patrick Reilly. I watched that launch from my car”—he pointed at Bones and broke into a wide smile—“and all I could think was, ‘Wow, that kid’s got enormous feet’!” He threw his head back and laughed, then he got serious. “You boys are supposed to be in school today, aren’t you?” 

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a clear, plastic bag with a powdered donut in it. “And I’m not sure if you know this, but when you come up to an intersection, you’re supposed to stop.” He held the bag up. “Luigi lost about ten dozen today, and he’s not happy.” 

Page 36