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Pop whistles.

"On Saturday, yet! You got a girl or something?"

"Yessir!" says Nick, and he gives my T-shirt a dirty look.

I go put a sweater over it and run a comb through my hair, but I'm hanged if I'll go out looking like this is a big deal.

"We're going to a movie down at the Academy," I tell my family.

"What's there?" Pop asks.

"A new horror show," says Nick.

"And an old Disney."

"Is it really a new horror show?" I ask Nick, because I think I've seen every one that's been in town.

"Yup. Just opened. The Gold Bug. Some guy wrote it—I mean in a book once—but it's supposed to be great. Make the girls squeal anyway. I love that."

"Hmm." I just like horror shows anyway, whether girls squeal or not.

"You'll be the life of the party with that 'Hmm' routine."

"It's your party." I shrug.

"Well, you could at least try."

We hang around the subway kiosk on Fourteenth Street, where Nick said he'd meet them.

After half an hour they finally show up.

It's nice and sunny, and we see a crowd bunched up over in Union Square, so we wander over.

A shaggy-haired, bearded character is making a speech all about "They," the bad guys.

A lot of sleepy bums are sitting around letting the speech roll off their ears.

"What is he, a nut or something?" the blonde asks.

"A Commie, maybe," I say.

"They're always giving speeches down here. Willie Sutton, the bank robber, used to sit down here and listen, too. That's where somebody put the finger on him."

The girls look at each other and laugh like crazy, as if I'd said something real funny.

I catch Nick's eye and glare.

O.K., I tried.

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