"Come on," he urged, leading the way to a tan single-wide with concrete steps at the back. A hint of a strut livened Hardy's walk, giving him the jauntiness of a junkyard dog.

　　I followed cautiously, wondering how mad Mama would be if she found out I'd wandered off with a stranger. "Is this yours?" I asked, my feet sinking into the crackling beige grass as we went toward the trailer.

　　Hardy replied over his shoulder. "I live here with my mom. two brothers, and a sister."

　　"That's a lot of people for a single-wide." I commented.

　　"Yeah, it is. I've got to move soon—there's no room for me in...