L ast week at middle school, Marcel’s gym clothes disappeared out of his locker. “I know I locked it!” he insisted of the state in which he had left his gym locker. He hadn’t, though, and so the lock along with all of the finery it had protected—one sixth-grade boy’s smelly gym shirt and shorts (the latter borrowed from his less-than-gracious younger brother)—were gone. The coach was kind. She endured Marcel’s Mulder-esque claims that he could actually see his missing gym clothes through the holes of another locker. She even collaborated with him on a note that the pair of them affixed to that very suspicious locker asking that its owner come and speak with the coach when they found it there. Finally, she…