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doesn’t have the sense to skate away. He could do laps around Duncan. All he has to do is skate away. Cody’s friends stand watching like a bunch of doorknobs.
    â€œLeave him alone,” I scream. “He’s not going to hurt you!”
    â€œGet this freak away from me!” Cody yells.
    Ian tries to pull Duncan away, but Duncan yanks free and plows into Cody, pushing him onto the ice. Cody’s friends laugh.
    Cody scrambles to his feet with his fists punching the air. I can barely keep my balance as I hobble and slide over to Duncan. I manage to get there in time to intercept Cody’s fist.
    Smack!
    He hits me so hard, I fall backward and land butt-first on the ice. I sit there for a few seconds. My head pounds, and my right eye feels like it’s going to pop out.
    Cody spits at me. His goober lands with a big splat beside my feet. “If that freak comes near me again, he’ll get it good.” Then he kicks my skate to get his point across.
    If my head wasn’t spinning so badly, I’d punch him back. Instead I pull myself to my feet and stagger off the ice.
    Ian is sitting on the bench with Duncan by the time I make if off the pond.
    â€œMy arm hurts,” Duncan whimpers.
    â€œWell, if you hadn’t gone after Cody, you’d be fine!” I hiss. I drop down beside him and take off my other skate. Cody messes around with the puck as if nothing happened.
    I can tell Ian feels bad, but he doesn’t know what to say. What is there to say? Sorry your brother messed things up again? Sorry you have no life? He says, “I’ll come over afterward.”
    I sling my skates over my shoulder. “Let’s go, Duncan.”
    I lead the way through the path. Every now and then, Duncan whispers to himself.
    â€œYou’re strong, Spider-Man. You can fix this,” followed by, “Ohhhh, my arm hurts!”
    My eye throbs. I try to ignore it.
    When we arrive home, our back door is locked. Mom has a habit of bolting it shut when we leave, even if she’s home. I reach into my pocket for the key. It’s not there. I drop my hockey gear and search all my pockets—nothing. Sighing, I ring the doorbell and wait. Nothing.
    I ring it again. And we wait.
    Nothing—a big fat nothing.

Chapter Six
    â€œStay here, Duncan. I’ll go check Dad’s workshop for the spare. I’ll be right back.” I trudge through the snow in the backyard. I haven’t been in Dad’s little shed for a while. The smell of wood and sawdust tickles my nose and reminds me of Dad. I used to love hanging out with him. I used to watch for hours as he built things out of wood. It was our special thing, that and playing hockey. My fingers fumble on the ledge where the key used to be.
    Zippo—not a thing.
    I shut the door and glance up at Mom’s window. The curtains are closed. I start yelling, “Mom! Open up. We’re locked out!” I stare at the curtains, hoping to see her open them. I grab a snowball and toss it near her window. It splats on the side of the house. But it doesn’t do any good—the curtains don’t move.
    â€œHow can she not hear us?” I mutter.
    â€œShe’s not home,” Duncan says.
    â€œMaybe you’re right. Come on, let’s go over to Mr. Cooper’s.”
    Duncan follows me, complaining how hungry he is. We cut through the rosebushes and ring the back doorbell.
    â€œWe’re locked out,” I announce when Mr. Cooper opens the door.
    â€œMy arm hurts,” Duncan adds.
    â€œYour arm hurts, and you’re locked out. Not a good combination. Come on in.”
    The warmth from Mr. Cooper’s woodstove makes my face tingle. I take off my mitts.
    â€œLooks like you two were in a bit of a wrestling match. Your eye looks mighty sore there, Max.”
    â€œI was fighting,” Duncan says in a deep voice.
    â€œYou were not!” I roll my eyes. “We both fell on the pond.” I