he remembered beaver 's stupid jacket that the beav had loved so much , and beaver 's voice , thin but somehow powerful , announcing the end of something and the beginning of something else , announcing in some ungraspable but perfectly real and knowable way that the course of their lives had changed one tuesday afternoon when all they had been planning was some two-on-two in jonesy 's driveway and then maybe a game of parcheesi in front of the tv ; now , sitting here in the woods beside the overturned scout , still smelling the cologne henry had n't been wearing , drinking his life 's happy poison with a hand wearing a bloodstained glove , the car salesman remembered the boy who had not quite given up his dreams of being an astronaut in spite of his increasing problems with math ( jonesy had helped him , and then henry had helped him and then , in tenth grade , he 'd been beyond help ) , and he remembered the other boys as well , mostly the beav , who had turned the world upside down with a high yell in his just-beginning-to-change voice : hey you guys , quit it !