"Billy. Get your suit on!" Dad says again. He throws the suit at me and then he goes to his seat to put his on. I do what he says, but as I pull the rubber suit over my legs, what I'm actually doing is scanning the floor around me for a piece of wire, or a nail, or anything I can use to dig that hairclip out. I don't even know why I suddenly think it's so important. Actually, that's not true. I've got a horrible feeling I do know.
