June packs a bag with shot, hooks it from her Dora the Explorer belt. She ties her jump rope across her chest, holsters her sling, and squeezes a juicebox into her water bottle. As a final touch, she scrawls dark lines across her face with a magic marker.
She’s ready for the backyard.
The hunt is slow, hot, the grass weeks long, uncut because her brother keeps forgetting to do it. In the bushes there is a rustling. The insects buzz.
She readies a marble, pulls the elastic back, waits.
Captain Fluffy rounds the corner, hissing, his eyes green slits.