I aspired to be like him and I was glad to be a dead ringer. [...] I was thirteen before I realized that Poppy was hated by most of the people unfortunate enough to have had to contend with him. [...] I { 14 } spat the dummy knew that she could say the wrong thing at any moment and open the lid that I had been holding on to from the inside, but I wanted to hear about Poppy. [...] I used to get a calendar from the bakery down the street and, gouging an X into each numbered square with a ballpoint pen, I counted down the days to every break in the school year. [...] I had to blow it out the window so as to not taint the aroma of her tobacco.