“She had a violin!” Kanto said on the walk home.
“So?”
“You called her punk. If she’s a punk and playing the violin, then I should be able to get one.”
“She was obviously crazy,” Wendy said.
“No, you said she was punk.”
Wendy scowled. She hated when the kid paid attention. “Look, kid, I don’t know.”
“But why not?”
“I just don’t know!” She frowned. “You really want a violin?”
Kanto nodded. He was at a point where he figured he had to say yes.
“Look, I’ll check out the pawn shops and see if they have anything, but I’m telling you, the minute you want to switch to a guitar or drums or something, let me know. I’ll get one for you.”
“I don’t want a guitar or the drums,” he said. “I want a violin.”
“Fine, kid, I’ll get you a stupid violin.”
Kanto grinned. He felt like he’d won. Maybe now he could figure out what that guy was talking about when he talked about how the violin would help him.
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