Just then Mrs. Claus entered in a Mrs. Berry apron. She held a tray carrying an orange fondue set.

“Fondue anyone?” Mrs. Berry said.

“Mmmm-mmm-mm...fond of fondue, Mrs. Claus.” Blarney said.

Mr. and Mrs. Berry laughed more than it was worth.

“That’s burnt orange,” Mr. Berry said, talking about the fondue set. “A sleeper color so far, but I’m cautiously optimistic that in the seventies, you’ll see a lot of Burnt Orange.”

“Daddy!” Teri Berry said, coming in and zipping up her pink snow jacket. “Like they came over to hear all about kitchen counters.”

“No,” Mrs. Berry said, chuckling again. “They came over because they’re fond of fondue.”

Teri Berry rolled her sizable eyes in embarrassment at her Mom’s lame joke, not realizing it was Blarney’s lame joke to start. I wanted to laugh but held it back. Blarney saw Teri Berry roll her eyes and, instead of saying Hi or saying how nice she looked, the knucklehead got up to try out the fondue. After dipping a piece of crusty bread with a burnt-orange-handled fork, Blarney tasted Mrs. Berry’s cheese ball soup and complimented her long and hard on how good it tasted. As clumsy as he was in picking up a date, Blarney knew a thing or two about how to butter up a Mom.

I figured I’d better give it a whirl myself, thinking it might be better than the time Mom used our Avocado colored fondue set. It wasn’t any better than Mom’s, but I made out like it was just to be a gentleman.

When the three of us headed down their driveway a few minutes later, I took a few seconds to snap my CPO, and I decided I liked having snaps better than the buttons my old CPO had. Plus, this one had a lining and was warmer on your colder nights. I then looked over the sticker on the Berry’s new Vista Cruiser. Mr. Berry sure must sell a lot of laminates, I thought. This baby is loaded. When I caught up with them, for some reason Teri Berry walked off down Princeton in a huff.

“I said I’m sorry,” Blarney said, laughing. “All I said was the fondue forks looked like little frog gigs, only for little horny toads.”

By the time I caught up with Blarney, Teri Berry had turned around and was now stomping the snow-packed sidewalk. “But the crack about do they make the handles in camouflage? And how you’d go sneaking up on poor little horny toads and stab them?”

“It was a joke! Like I’d really go around gigging horny toads,” Blarney said, unable to stop laughing when another thought popped into his head. “Besides, they’re horny toads — they've got important stuff to attend to.”

“You made fun of our fondue set!” she cried, deciding that was the real reason she was mad.

We were almost to Judy’s house, so I trudged across her neighbor’s snowy front yard. When I went by the Flattery’s older Vista Cruiser station wagon in the drive, I traced a gloved finger in a curvy line across the snow-covered rear window.

“Teri," I heard Blarney say as he got to her. “I was just poking fun at it being burnt orange. Burnt orange is a funny name for a color, don’t you think?”

“Yes. I mean no,” she said, again stomping the packed snow. “Besides, everything in our kitchen’s burnt orange.”

Blarney fell over laughing and rolling in the snow on the short hill of Judy’s lawn. After I rang Judy’s doorbell, I looked back to see Blarney reach up and pull Teri Berry down with him. Teri Berry screamed, but when Blarney got her to roll over in the snow with him, she started laughing and screaming.

“Gawd!” Judy said, opening the door. “And this is their first date?”

“Yeah,” I said. “They’re perfect together.”

“Chas,” Judy said. “I might be boring tonight.”

“Why?” I saw she’d been crying.

“My Dad,” she said. “He might be missing. Mom just heard. It’s preliminary. We might know more tomorrow.”

I looked off, thinking of what to say. Blarney and Teri Berry threw snowballs at each other.

“Look,” Judy said, glancing into her living room. “I really shouldn’t go. I won’t be any fun for you. Besides, my Mom is like...freaking out.”

“I’ll stay here with you.”

I grabbed her, hugged her tight as ever, and she started sobbing. She shook her head and pulled away.

“'Bye, you guys,” she said down to Teri Berry and Blarney without any cheer.

They looked up just as Judy went back into her house and closed the door.

“Chas Man,” Blarney shouted. “I told you to use Scope.”

They knew it wasn't bad breath but bad something-else when I gave them a salute. “It’s her Dad.”

The porch light went out, the Christmas lights turned off.

“He hurt?” said Teri Berry.

“Killed?” said Blarney.

I shrugged and showed them Big Mystery. I walked down to the sidewalk. “Go on,” I told them. “Maybe I’ll come later.”

Could be they said something back to me, but if they did I didn’t hear it. I just stood there looking back at Judy’s house, dark except for the gloomy, greenish glow in a front window.

If you‘d been across Princeton Drive that night, you would’ve seen the three of us. You’d have seen a David Blarney puppet wrap a Teri Berry puppet in his arms. And you’d see puppet strings as a punch-drunk puppeteer walked them off stage in search of other four-legged creatures.

Mine, he slept.

I stood on popsicle-stick legs, numb to the icy roots growing up my feet, keeping me frozen in time.

You’d have heard nothing as I gave up a dead holler at an unreal night, so fantastical, so weirdly bright with cotton lining houses, white felt blanketing lawns and stand-up trees, all beneath a knock-out moon, under pin-prick stars.

And everything under a dungeon silence.

I wandered around for some time, fully expecting I’d head on home and skip Violet’s party. I figured I needed to take my time because I didn’t want anybody to be home when I got there. I didn’t want to be around anybody. I knew Mom and Dad were going to the Berry’s party, but they usually didn’t go out as early as me and Skinny. Mostly to kill time, I stopped up at Convenient to get some cokes and a snack to eat in front of the TV.