The cops came down to the Abrams' house. It was about the dogs behind the house. There was a conspiracy. The tree house was the hideout. I took secret documents and I was sleeping overnight up there. I took documents up to the 7th story wrapped up in cardboard to the tree house and left them for the other co-leader. I had to get down from the tree house to see about my mother. She had fixed supper and was staring at it. She was screaming out, "Take me to Bull Street." Everybody knew Bull Street was the state hospital for crazies. Then she stopped screaming and was dead quiet. Staring. That made me REALLY SCARED. My mother's condition was interfering with my tree house conspirator duties. I had responsibilities there. I had ???. The suave rich guy had a motorcycle and I was unsure of the stuff ???. Losing control with ??? and asked me did I want a ride on his motorcycle up to the top of the mountain to look at the leaves and the lake. I said no but then I was lying on a rock getting warm when he walked down swanky. "KA 1 OK" and the window uncontrolled evidence in the lake. The leaves were beautiful. Very much worth missing my shift of watch at the tree house. We rode the motorcycle up and down the mountain. The motorcycle and the stories were inconsistent. His tweed pants and wool sport coat were thrown on the mountain floor. I was running a time trial on an indoor track. A girl cut out in front of me and tripped me. I was mad. Because I was slower.