The Odds scored, and the two teams descended for a rest. Andy, the grin wide on his brown-spotted face, said: "You're okay, Ronnie! Hoy, I mean it. You're okay!"
"Thanks," Ron said. He found himself panting.
The game resumed. It ended in a 3-2 score, favor of the Odds. Andy and Ron were cheered as they left the Flyers and headed for the communal showers of the Roverwood Home for Boys.
In the stall, Ron Carver looked down at the spindly frame that was now his body, and began to weep. Andy heard him, but said nothing. Then they dressed and ambled back to the main house, sharing the awkward silence of new friends.
Finally, the older boy said: "I don't mean to butt in, Ronnie. But is somethin' the matter?"
"I—I don't know, Andy. I'm all mixed up. I don't even know how I got here."
"That's easy. Dr. Minton brought you."
"But where is he now, Andy? Dr. Minton? It's very important that I see him."
Andy shrugged. "Not much chance of that. Dr. Minton only comes around once, twice a year.
"But I have to see him! Right away! Will they call him for me?"