“Evening, Evelyn,” Sheriff Kaufman said, tipping his hat. “Same place?”

Ms. Davis nodded. “Are you going to put him somewhere this time? We can’t keep having this happen.”

“Yes, don’t worry. This time we can give him a psych evaluation, and if he fails, we can put a restraining order on him entering-”

“Oh, thank god.”

Kaufman turned the corner. There he was, cross-legged and ripping out pages gleefully, like a malevolent imp. “Sir, could you stand up for me, please?”

“You’re a hero too, aren’t you?” he asked. “Or you’re trying to be.”

“I just want to talk to you. Could you stand up for me?”

“No, no, no, there aren’t any heroes here. Not any more. You see? I can take them out.” He stood up and held out the book like it would shield him.

“What’s your name?” Kaufman asked.

“Puck.”

“Puck? All right, what I’m going to ask you to do right now is put the book down and come with me.” Kaufman offered his hand.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Puck said, and thrust out the book.