They were all liars, because I knew that really he was a tall, skinny old man who wore old, thick glasses that were too big for his face, and he wore overalls that were way too big for his beanpole of a body. I knew this because Bones, on his very first attempt to junk it up two summers ago, became the only kid ever to complete the junkyard loop, and get a photo of the Yizzzzza.

The Yizzzzza. That's what Bones nicknamed the old guy after he got a pic of him. I have no idea why Bones called him that, but whenever we texted each other about him, he made me spell it with five z's.

When Bones got the pic of the Yizzzzza, he made me promise not to tell anyone about it. Bones' dumb idea was that if we let kids make up stories about the Yizzzzza, eventually the old man would become something way different than who he actually was . . . and only me and Bones would know the truth. Talk about dumb ideas.

Tonight, Bones had an even dumber idea.

He said it with some hesitation, because he knew his idea would never get by me without me telling him how dumb it was. "Lump," he said, "this time I think you gotta ride with me."

Yup, really dumb.

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