I growled as Martin and I stood on the corner waiting to cross the street. “Can you? Can you believe he squealed? What a jerk!”But instead of answering, Martin just folded his arms and looked at me. It was the kind of look an adult gives you when you’re being a brat.“Stop doing that,” I said, annoyed. “I hate it when you do that. You look like my father.”Martin didn’t change his expression. “I just feel sort of sorry for the kid, that’s all. You probably scared the little dude out of his skin. I bet he didn’t even mean to get you in trouble. He just didn’t want some hand crawling out of the closet without its body.”“Oh, great. That’s great, Martin,” I snapped. “Thanks for all the support.”“Don’t get mad about it. I’m not saying I want him hanging around us all the time or anything. All I’m saying is you can’t really blame a little kid for being scared like that. After my sister Olivia saw Frankenstein for the first time, all you had to do was sneak up behind her and she’d wet her pants.”“Yeah, I know, Martin.
