"the bath water is lukewarm like a coffee that's sat out too long, the chipped tub is cramped around their intertwined legs-keeping them close, and the cake is sweet and sticky in their teeth. it's messy, it's silly, but it's perfectly, utterly them." when benoni kjennbar moved from kalmar to fort calhoun , he felt nothing but remorse-as would anyone leaving the lives they knew behind. his school and mother had taught him enough english to do well, but that never stopped the conservative suburban kids from chewing out on his accent. until one day a slightly older kid, lip busted and bruised sat down beside him at lunch. "they won't pick on you no more, don't worry." from then on he knew this boy was going to be important. but he never knew just how much.