<P>He did not want to be a wringer.<P><B>Palmer LaRue is rnning out of birthdays. For as long as he can remember, he's dreaded the day he turns ten, the day he's supposed to become a wringer.</B><P>This thing, this not wanting to be a wringer, did it ever knock him from his bike? Unite his sneaker lace? Call him a name? Stand up and fight?<B><P>Palmer thinks that becoming a wringer is something he can't stop...until the day a visitor shows up at his window.</B><P>It was simply, merely there, a whisper of featherwings, reminding him of the moment he dreaded above all others.<B><P>Should he open the window?</B><P>In his dreams the moment had already come.<B><P>Should he invite fear into his room?</B><P>In his dreams he looks down to find his hands around the neck of the pigeon.<B><P>What is it like to be hated?</B><P>For much of his life Palmer Larue had felt he was standing at the edge of a black, bottomless hole. On the fifty-ninth day before his tenth birthday, he fell in. <P>Palmer LaRue is running out of birthdays. For as long as he can remember, he's dreaded the day he turns ten -- the day he'll take his place beside all the other ten-year-old boys in town, the day he'll be a wringer. But Palmer doesn't want to be a wringer. It's one of the first things he learned about himself and it's one of the biggest things he has to hide. In Palmer's town being a wringer is an honor, a tradition passed down from father to son. Palmer can't stop himself from being a wringer just like he can't stop himself from growing one year older, just like he can't stand up to a whole town -- right? Newbery Medal winner Jerry Spinelli's most powerful novel yet is a gripping tale of how one boy learns how not to be afraid. </P>