Dadio’s got a hobby. He paints a face on a coconut shell, sinks a furniture tack into the shell’s crown, and ties dental floss to the tack. Then he dangles the face off the jacaranda out back. There must be fifty faces already hanging there. Some of the faces have Xed out eyes. Others look like demons. A few remind me of stooges. Who are these people? I know he hates Ross the neighbor. He also hates that Marine down the street with the RV. Sometimes he even hates Mom. I spot one on a lower branch with slits for eyes and a big mouth. Who’s that? I ask, pointing. Dadio stares at me and smiles.