The Gobstomper

by Alex Dal Piaz

A lot changes as you get older, thought Wilkie Saunders.

For example, he’d been sure older boys like Tom Dunn—who was either in 10th or 11th grade depending on if you counted the year he was repeating—hated his guts. Tom had tormented Wilkie and his friends everywhichway for years. And yet here they all were in the dark, Tom and Wilkie and half a dozen other older boys, gathered up behind the home of the local dentist. This was small-town Indiana, and not the best parts of it. The house of the dentist was plenty run down, perhaps not as much as the other homes along the street, but its peeling dish-sponge-blue paint was enough to make Wilkie feel antsy. Outside was a shingle-style sign, dismally busy with fancy script, advertising the services within. “What’s so special about a dentist?” Wilkie asked. (Continue Reading…)