He was quite the character, sandy hair that swooped to his eyebrows, button down shirts, flare jeans, Earth shoes. Tall and lean, lacking muscle tone, but not stringy. He liked to observe people and prey on their weaknesses. Not for sinister purposes, just for pranks. He quickly figured out I skived rodents. “Don’t move,” he whispered with eyes wide open. So open the whites showed through his silky hair. “There’s a mouse behind your chair.” I screeched and jumped atop my chair, nearly knocking it and myself down. Everyone laughed at my expense. At that moment, he became an adversary.