It was huge—about the same size as the bat in Little League, where I’m the best hitter on the whole team. So I picked it up with my gloved hands and I swung it—the way Tim showed me when we practiced in the fall. And I swung it again. And again. And again. I thought it might break, but the ice was pretty strong. It didn’t break. It held together really well. The first time the icicle hit Shane’s head, he shouted. But not the second time. Or the third. Eventually, Shane stopped moving at all. I can’t remember how many times it took before that happened.
omfg
