Nick Tuttle always wanted to be a pilot, to sail through the air. One fine spring day after school, he played catch with the Spurly boys, Hank and Ed. They stood as three points on a triangle, flinging the ball around clockwise. Hank to Ed to Nick and then back to Hank. Hank, the older of the two Spurly boys and the better athlete, kept cranking wormburners at Ed, just to remind him who was the alpha. Three or four times, the ball went through Ed’s legs and he got pissed and stomped off toward the truck. Having earned his license only two weeks before, the keys were in his pocket. Hank and Nick knew Ed was stubborn and would ditch them if they didn’t hustle up and get in the truck, so they jumped in. Ed gave’r the beans and they flew up over the top of Chicken Hill. Musta been doing about 75 when they hit old man Crandon head on. All four of ’em died. Was a real fiery mess. They found Nick fifty feet down the road, in the ditch, his neck broken from his first flight.