Hockey Skum

Blonde-haired, blue-eyed boys and girls densely populate the skating club down the driveway from us. When hockey practice or figure skating classes are over, they pack up into their cliques and march into the barn and past the kennel. Time to scare them away. From inside a stall, we stare blankly at them, expressionless. Libby carries around an old deer skull. I hold onto Frolic’s collar, pretending to use all my might to hold her back. “Easy, Killer.” Between the vicious German Shepherd and mute hillbillies, the rich kids get nervous. They run back to safety in their matching sweatsuits.