Kevin rode his bike along the path through the park. The cold January wind made his face and hands sting. He wished he hadn't forgotten his gloves.
He hunched into his navy parka and pumped hard to keep himself warm.
The large park near the center of town was Kevin's shortcut home. But now Kevin wondered if he should have come this way. The park was so much colder without any buildings to block the wind. Besides, it was already getting dark, and there was no one else around.
He was about to turn back. But then he came to a large frozen pond. He knew the pond was halfway through the park. So he decided to keep on going.
The wind moaned through the trees. It sounded like a howling dog. Or, he thought with a shudder, like a howling ghost
Suddenly Kevin felt as if someone were watching him. He turned his head around and his bike almost went off the path. Kevin turned forward again quickly and took control. And then, just ahead of him, he saw a boy sitting on a park bench. Where had he come from? Kevin was sure no one had been there a second ago.
Kevin stopped his bike in front of the boy. He was about Kevin's own age.
He had straight brown hair and a pale face. The boy raised his eyes toward Kevin. His large black pupils stared straight ahead without expression. But the whites were all red, as if the boy had been crying.
There was something about the boy that sent goose bumps up Kevin's arms. He felt like pedaling away as quickly as he could. But the boy seemed so sad and lonely. Kevin couldn't leave without talking to him. So he gave the boy a friendly smile and said, "Hi."
"H-hello," the boy replied. He wiped one eye with the back of his hand.
"Is something the matter?" Kevin asked as he got off his bike. "I mean, are you lost or something?"
The boy didn't answer Kevin's question. Instead he just stared and said, "My name's Tommy--Tommy Cavendish."
"My name's Kevin Reynolds. I'm new around here. My family moved into town two weeks ago."
"Do you go to McKinley, too?" Kevin continued. "I've never seen you around school."
Again the boy ignored his question. Then, as if he were talking to himself, he said, "Tomorrow is my birthday. I'll be eleven."
This kid is strange, Kevin thought. His voice is strange, too. It sounds like it's coming from the other end of a long tunnel.
"No kidding," Kevin said finally. "I'm eleven myself."
The boy's lower lip trembled.
"But I won't be getting any presents," he said. "My mom and dad gave them away."
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