ttle brothers tagging along,"
complained Jerry.
"Don't try my patience too far or you won't go out at all."
Jerry saw a look in his mother's eyes that made him wary of making
her any more displeased with him than she already was.
"All right, I'll take him. If Red follows us to the park Andy can play
with him and keep that big nuisance from trying to play ball with us."
Jerry was relieved when his mother unpacked the groceries and did not
notice that anything unusual had happened to the leg of lamb.
"Where's my change?" she asked.
Jerry almost got out Mr. Bartlett's eight dollars and twenty-one
cents. Hastily he switched his hand to another pocket for the one
dollar and seventy-nine cents due his mother. He handed it over, his
eyes downcast. For some reason he did not want to meet his mother's
eye just then. Whenever she looked him straight in the eye, Jerry had
always found it next to impossible to keep anything from her.
"Thank you for going to the store for me. But honestly, Jerry, you're
too old for me to have to tell you every time not to stop and play on
the way home," she said.
Play! So that was what she thought he had been doing. Little did she
know how little like play it was. Jerry had to stifle the impulse to
tell her all he had been through in the past hour and a half.
"Saturday's a busy time at the grocery stores," he said.
His mother let that pass for an excuse. She was in a hurry to be off.
And Jerry could tell that his twin sister was pleased with his being
stuck with looking after Andy while she was off admiring herself in
store mirrors.
"Don't let Andy lose his windbreaker," she warned in an almost grownup
manner. Trying to button her jacket and hold on to her red patent
leather handbag at the same time, she dropped the bag and its contents
spilled on the floor.
With horror Jerry saw that Cathy had been carrying a lipstick of shiny
gold-colored metal. "Don't tell me you've taken to using lipstick! You
trying to look like a clown?"
"It's just from the dime store. To use if my lips get chapped. Take
your foot off that, Jerry Martin. Oh, you've bent it," she cried.
"Want me to wipe away your tears?" taunted Jerry. That was his latest
favorite remark. He said it whether it was appropriate or not, liking
the sound of it and the reaction it drew from family and playmates.
Now Cathy tossed her head and glared at him.
"I _was_ sorry that Andy broke your model satellite but now I
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