––––––––
“Do it,” Orley urged, and though I didn’t look at him, I could feel those earnest brown eyes looking at me—eyes that always seemed just a little too intense, as if he might burst into tears or kick your a*s at any moment.
“We made a pact, kid,” said Kevin, his voice low, his intonation world-weary—even though he was the same age as the rest of us—Han Solo to the core, at least for today. “Besides, this was your idea.”
I hesitated, the sharpened stick wavering, as the big, green caterpillar inched across the pavement. “I know.” I watched as the insect’s bulbous sections undulated, rising and falling, glistening in the sun. “It’s just that—”
“Here,” said Orley.
He took his own stick and used it to roll the caterpillar onto its back, where it curled into a fetal position and pro
