The Sweet brothers were wearing those bank-robber ski hats that cover the entire face except for holes for eyes and the nose. They looked pretty intimidating. “This is it,” I shouted, and they shushed me. “Oh, right. Good call.” “Let’s go,” Sally said. “It’s almost time.” “Hold on, I brought protection,” Trent said, unzipping a big red bag. He pulled out a bunch of hockey sticks and passed them around. “We’re not going to hurt the thief, and we don’t need those, we outnumber him six to one,” I pointed out. “It’s just for intimidation,” Trent explained. “I’m not sure I could hit the thief with a hockey stick, if it ever came to it,” Sally said, staring at her hockey stick. “Where’s mine?” I asked. “You’re going to be out in the soccer field, so you can’t have a hockey stick on you,” Trent explained. “Why do I have to be the drop-off guy?” “You’re the littlest.” I shivered because it was so cold out, and that made me seem legitimately scared.
