"She okay?" Mr. Boyle asked.
"She's fine," Mrs. Boyle said. "Go back to bed."
"Seems like she wants to eat twice as often as Todd and Chrissie did."
"About the same. You're just waking up more."
Mr. Boyle grunted. "Is she gonna starve while we're at Chrissie's whatchacallit on Saturday?"
"It's a tonette concert. That plastic instrument is a tonette, and don't you let Chrissie hear you refer to it as a whatchacallit. I want to buy her a flute when school starts." Mrs. Boyle shifted Baby Tina in her arms. "I'll get a sitter for Saturday."
"Why? We'll be gone, what, from one to two-thirty? Todd can handle it."
"She's a month old, and he's just a little boy. Besides, he'd rather be out playing with his friends."
"He's gonna be twelve in September. He can watch a baby sleep for an hour and a half, or I'll know the reason why." Mr. Boyle yawned. "Well, have fun." He closed the door.
Baby Tina squeaked, and Mrs. Boyle began singing again.
Jimmy sank to the flower bed. He waited until the singing stopped and the yellow rectangle disappeared, and then he returned to the grass. He crawled back to the gate.
He didn't want to break Todd's window. That would only make Boss Stud mad.
What Jimmy wanted was to make Boss Stud dead.
Before going home, he went to the water tower. He squirmed through the hole in the fence, went to the south leg, and began climbing. He had never done this in the dark. The rungs were wet, and one of his feet slipped when he was halfway up. The sensation of almost falling was wonderful. He tried to re-create it after a few more rungs, but it didn't work. The slip had to be unexpected.
On the catwalk, he leaned against the rail and gazed over the town. He hadn't realized that a tiny burg like Wantoda had so many lights. They were spread out below him like a field of stars. It was as if he were an astronaut a billion miles from home, and the water tank were his spaceship. Down on the Potwin road, Officer Johnston's patrol car cruised past without slowing. It was a sign to Jimmy that he could do anything.
He made it back home and into bed without being caught.
Jimmy left his room as soon as Dad drove away. The garage would be his until six o'clock. He took his fishing rod and pocketknife with him when he left the house. He came back for crayons, Scotch tape, and Mom's stapler.
In the garage, he tore a huge sheet from Dad's four-foot roll of brown paper. He was measuring it on the floor when Mom came looking for him.
"What are you doing, James?"
He looked up. "Making a kite. The other one got busted."
"Don't you want breakfast first? We have Wheaties."
"Could I wait and come in at lunch?" He resumed his measurements.
"I suppose so. Does your father know you're using that paper?"
"Yes, ma'am." Dad had granted permission for him to use it for the first kite, and he had no reason to think he couldn't use it for a second.
"Well, don't use too much. We don't know what he wants it for."
Jimmy doubted that Dad wanted it for anything. He had probably found it at work and taken it for no reason, as he had done with other stuff. But Jimmy knew better than to say so.
"And be sure to put that tape measure back where you found it. You know how your father is about his tools."
"Yes, ma'am."
Mom went away. A while later Jasmine came in carrying Doll-Baby. "Whatcha doing?" she asked.
"What's it look like?"
Jasmine cocked her head. "Why's it so big?"
"To make up for the busted one."
Jasmine lost interest. "I wish I had a bicycle," she said.
"You're too little."
"If I had a bicycle, I could give Doll-Baby a ride."
"If you'll go away," Jimmy said, "I'll give Doll-Baby a ride for you."
"You don't have a bicycle either," Jasmine said, and left. She took Doll-Baby with her.
At lunchtime, Jimmy went into the house and ate macaroni. He watched Jasmine try to feed Doll-Baby, and he helped Mom with the dishes. Then he took one of Dad's saws and set off for Stranger Creek.
After returning to the garage, he measured and whittled two of the willow saplings he had cut. When they were finished, he put the kite together. He attached the tail from the first kite, but added ten more shop rags from Dad's barrel. Then he used a length of monofilament to bend the crosspiece into a bow. Finally he tied the kite to his rod and reel line and took it outside.
It worked. It worked so well that it almost dragged him across the pasture. He let it fly at low altitude for a few minutes to be sure the paper wouldn't tear, and then he reeled it in and took it apart. He had the pieces stashed under his bed, and the garage cleaned up, fifteen minutes before Dad came home.
He made a special effort to be polite that evening. He didn't want to be more sore tomorrow than he already was.
Jimmy didn't care that it was daytime. If he was caught, Dad would whip him. Or maybe he would be sent to reform school. He could live with either one.
He sat on the curb down the block from the Boyles' and read the new Green Lantern. After a while Mr. and Mrs. Boyle and Chrissie came outside and drove away. Some older kids were riding their bikes toward Jimmy, so he stayed put until they were gone. Then, except for a man mowing his lawn two blocks away, the street was quiet. On a nice Saturday, the people of Wantoda liked to get out of town.
Jimmy stood, folded his comic lengthwise, and put it in a back pocket. Then he picked up his backpack and crossed the street. At the Boyles' front door, he reached into the backpack and took out the sack of cow chips he had collected that morning. He placed it on the stoop and lit it with a match. He donned his backpack. When the bag was burning well, he rang the doorbell and sprinted to vault over the gate into the back yard.
He was under Baby Tina's window with a piece of granite in his hands when he heard Todd open the front door. As Todd yelled, Jimmy heaved the rock through the window screen, tearing it partway from its frame. The rock hit the carpeted floor with a thunk, but Todd was still shouting.
Jimmy grabbed the sill and hauled himself inside. The door to the hallway was open, but he wouldn't stay long enough for that to matter. He threw the rock outside and went to the bassinet. Baby Tina's face was squinched up. She was wearing only a diaper, and Jimmy worried that the tough canvas of the backpack might chafe her skin. But speed was essential. He shrugged off the pack, placed its open mouth beside Baby Tina, and rolled her inside. He buckled the flap.
Todd's shouts stopped. Jimmy grabbed the backpack's shoulder straps, went to the window, and leaned out to lower the pack as far as he could. When he let go, Baby Tina only had to fall a few inches. She began to wail anyway. Jimmy heard the front door close.
"If you think I'm gonna come in there and change your pants, you're crazy!" Todd yelled.
Jimmy clambered through the window and dropped to the flower bed. He reached up and pulled the torn screen more or less back into place. Then he picked up the pack and ran to the gate.
Seconds later he was walking down the street, whistling as loud as he could. But that wasn't loud enough to drown out Baby Tina, so he shifted his weight from side to side to make the pack sway on his back. Baby Tina's cries subsided.
No one was on the street, and Jimmy saw no one watching from windows or doorways. Even the lawnmower man had gone inside. Jimmy turned a corner and headed for the kite-flying field.
He found Jasmine where he had left her. She was sitting on a bare patch of ground beside the water-tower fence, spitting into the dirt and using her finger to draw muddy squiggles.
Jimmy glanced at the wrapped bundle beside her. "Did you do a good job guarding my stuff?"
"Uh-huh." She looked up at him. "You help me find Doll-Baby now?"