If Mrs. Follis didn’t have to bother with the sleeping bag and Andy's wet clothes, she didn't always tell Mr. Follis to give Andy a licking with the strap. Every morning I tried to wake up early and if Andy was wet get him out of his sleeping bag and his sleeping bag hung up on the line outside before Mrs. Follis woke up and came out in the living room.

"Wake up Andy," I said.

Andy was a bump snuggled in the middle of his sleeping bag, with the top of the bag covering his head, and he didn't wake up.

I knelt down beside him next to the leg of the dining room table where he’d scooted his sleeping bag during the night.

I reached inside the bag for his shoulder, and shook his shoulder a little. Then Andy woke up and his eyes opened up wide, real wide, and he sat up fast. Like he couldn’t get away from the strap but he could get himself ready. The lids of his eyes relaxed when he saw it was me and he laid back down and he closed his eyes, almost like he’d never been awake. But then he opened his eyes again, looked up at me, and said, "What?"

The bag smelled, but I wasn’t sure if it was a fresh smell, or the old wet smell.

"Are you wet?" I said, and Andy nodded.

"I'm sorry," Andy said. His eyes looked so blue, and his face so white with his hair curled up away from his forehead.

"It’s alright," I said.

But we had to hurry, so I said, "Let's get you changed before Mrs. Follis gets up." So Andy scooted out of his sleeping bag and his wet pajamas clung to his bottom and his leg. I unsnapped the tops from the bottoms, pulled the tops over Andy's head. They were wet too on the edges with the snaps, and I didn’t like to touch them but I had to.

I pulled down the bottoms, rolled them down where they were wet and pulled off the stocking feet, the pajamas going inside out. I took the clean underpants and put them on him, and one of his little shirts, pulled it over his head, pulled it hard to stretch it down over his head. Then he stuck one of his hands up through the sleeve, then his other hand through the other sleeve and it was hard because his shirt was too tight. The pants were easy to get on. Then his shoes and his socks and maybe he's safe because Mrs. Follis won't want to undress and dress him again.

But maybe he's still not safe.

I went to the door of the living room that led to the porch and the yard. The door handle was hard to turn, then the screen door lock was up high and it stuck in the round hole when I tried to push it up and out.

That's when I heard the door between the kitchen and the outside being opened, and someone coming inside. Sonny and Carl walked through the doorway into the dining room. Both of them in dirty jeans and boots they wore to walk in the mucky barnyard on their way to the barn to milk the cows. Both of them wearing flannel shirts, but they looked different in the shirts. Carl looked covered up, Sonny’s shirt just lay on him, loose, the sleeves not reaching to the end of his long arms.

Cows have to be milked really early in the morning. I don’t know why.

When it is still dark out.

Before the roosters wake up and are supposed to say "cock a doodle doo" but really say "er er er er".

When I first heard the roosters say "er er er er" at my Grandma and Grandpa's farm, I wondered why they didn't say "cock a doodle doo."

If there was something wrong with those chickens.

Then when I heard the roosters at the Follis farm say "er er er er," I decided that I just didn't get up early enough to hear the "cock a doodle do," that the roosters only said that the first time they crowed in the morning. That special time when they first saw the sun.

But no matter how early I got up, the roosters just said, "er er er er".

Sonny took a long step over to me where I stood by the door that led out to the yard, Sonny’s jeans stiff at the knee with dried mud so they made a noise when he walked and the dry mud cracked. Sonny lifted the screen door hook out of its hole.

"There you go," he said, all friendly, like Sonny is always friendly.

Sonny looked at the sleeping bag I dragged over by the door and the wet pajamas I laid on top of them. Then Sonny said to Carl, but he was still smiling, with that fresh, wide awake look, and his voice still sounded like he just heard a joke or knew a joke, Sonny said, "Looks like that boy wet his bed again."

He said, "Guess if he wets it again, we're just gonna have to try and cure him by throwing him into the creek."

I couldn’t tell if he meant it.

Carl, dark, brought his dark eyebrows together, his dark eyebrows that were bushy and almost met in the middle, said, "I reckon so." Carl didn’t have a joking voice and his voice sounded like it always did, a little slow like the words had trouble coming out. Not many words did come out of Carl. Mostly he only talked when Sonny talked to him.

Sonny was still smiling, like he was joking, but maybe he wasn’t joking.

He could mean in the shallow part of the creek.

Andy couldn't swim.

Maybe Sonny only meant to throw him in then fish him right back out.

But maybe he meant to throw Andy into the deep water and leave him to make it back to shore or not.

Even if he was kidding, Sonny wasn't nice, not really nice, not nice like his brother Fred was nice.

Carl walked over to the dining room table and picked up a couple of biscuits from a plate left over from dinner. He tossed them over to Sonny and Sonny caught them, one in each hand. Then Carl picked up two more, took a bite of one and headed back to the kitchen. Sonny followed Carl. When he reached the doorway he turned back around towards us and said, "See you all later," and grinned like everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about.

Maybe there wasn’t.

Except there was Mrs. Follis who’d be waking up any time now, so as soon as I heard the door from the kitchen to the outside close again, I pulled the sleeping bag with the pajamas on top out onto the big wide porch.

I carried the sleeping bag bunched up in my arms out to the clothes line first, trying to keep it up off the dirt, but I couldn’t lift it all up over the line and keep it out of the dirt at the same time. One end dragged in the dirt while I tossed the other up over the line, then pulled it down on the other side. Once it was up there I brushed and hit at it with my hand like beating on rugs to get the dust off.

The pajama tops and bottoms I hung up with clothes pins. Then I came back inside.

Andy stood where I left him with his red shirt too tight and his blue corduroy pants. He said, "Are they going to throw me in the creek?"

Andy breathed in, but I didn’t hear him breath out again. And he looked up at me like I knew the answer, like I could tell what grown ups, almost grown ups, might do. Then Andy blinked his eyes like you do if someone moves their hand fast to hit you, if you’re surprised.

I don't know," I said, "but try really hard not to wet the bed."

"I'll try really hard," Andy said, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could do to stop himself from wetting the bed while he was asleep.

*

The next morning when Andy was wet again. I got him out of bed and dressed before Sonny and Carl came in from milking.

I took Andy over to the couch on the living room wall next to the picture window and pulled the couch out a little way from the wall.

"You can hide back here," I said, "so Sonny and Carl can’t find you."

Andy got in behind the couch and sat down, leaning against the wall. I pushed the couch back up towards the wall and the couch back was slanted so it didn’t have to be out too far from the wall to leave Andy room to sit. Once I lined it up with the wall it looked almost like when Andy wasn’t hiding behind it.

"Be quiet unless I talk to you," I whispered into the gap behind the couch.

"Ok," Andy whispered back.

I could barely see him sitting back in the dark, and I arranged the blanket that hung over the back of the couch so a piece of it hung down the side and covered part of the gap.

I had to leave him to go outside with his clothes and the sleeping bag, to get them up on the line before Sonny and Carl came in, before seeing the wet things would make them think about Andy wetting the bed.

"I’ll be back in just a minute," I told Andy. "Try not to move or make any noise."

"Ok," Andy said, and I left.

When I came back inside there was still no one else in the living room except Andy and Lindsay still asleep in her sleeping bag, Lindsay lay on her stomach so all I could see were her curls on the back of her head and one arm sticking out.

I went to find Andy’s toy soldiers for him to play behind the couch, not his cars because I was afraid he’d forget and make car noises.

I scooted the bag of toy soldiers through the gap under the blanket.

"Here’s your toy soldiers," I said. "Remember to be quiet."

Andy said, ok, and I went into the kitchen to make him a peanut butter sandwich. I handed that to him through the gap too.

Then I went to the bookshelf and got Book Eight of the Book of Knowledge. I sat on the couch and opened the book to the "Book of Stories" section, passing the "Book of Science", which I thought looked interesting and I would read it next just as soon as I finished all the volumes of the Book of Stories. I found my place in the book. Now if someone wondered what I was doing on the couch all day, I was busy reading stories.

And still, no one else came in the living room, so I got up on my knees and turned around to look over the back of the couch. There was only a little space at the top between the wall and the couch but I could kind of see Andy just sitting there quiet with one of his soldiers in his hand.

"Are you ok?" I asked.

Andy tilted his head back to look up at me, "Yes," he said. And he sounded ok, not scared or anything.

"You might have to hide there all day," I said.

"Ok," Andy said.

TThen I was afraid someone would come in and catch me so I sat back down.

Lindsay woke up after awhile. She got dressed and rolled up her sleeping bag. Then she came over and sat down on the couch beside me while she brushed her hair.

"Where’s Andy," Lindsay asked.

I put my finger up next to my mouth and nodded my head at Mrs. Follis’s bedroom door on the opposite wall.

Lindsay put down the brush and scooted back on the couch. She leaned her head against the back of the couch then turned it a little towards me.

"What," she whispered.

"He’s hiding behind the couch," I said.

Lindsay got up on her knees and looked down through the crack, then she sat back down. She said, "I think he’s asleep."

"Good," I said. "Then he’ll be quiet."

"Why is he hiding?"

"Sonny said he was going to throw Andy in the creek if he wet the bed again," I said.

"Maybe he was joking," Lindsay said, and she bounced her foot on the couch.

"Yeah," I said, "but I don’t know. Andy can’t swim."

"I know," Lindsay said. She started brushing her hair again. Her hair had a lot of tangles.

Lindsay said, "I’ll go outside and play over by the woods. Then if someone asks where Andy is you can tell them you think he’s somewhere outside with me."

"That’s a good idea," I said. "Mrs. Follis will probably ask when she gets up."

Lindsay scooted off the couch, and set her hairbrush back on the dresser that we shared for our clothes. She picked up the doll and a baby blanket which sat up on the top of the dresser.

I said, "Make a sandwich. You might get hungry."

So she did, then she left, going out the kitchen door because she had trouble with the living room door too.

Mrs. Follis got up late and I told her I already ate so I didn’t have to eat the oatmeal. Mrs. Follis asked me where Andy and Lindsay were, so I said Lindsay took her doll out to play outside somewhere and Andy went with her.

Mrs. Follis laughed. "You’d probably read day and night if we let you," she said.

After she ate breakfast Mrs. Follis went to pick some beans from the garden. When she came back she went downstairs to the basement to do laundry. Other people were in and out, but no one stayed long. Bobby Follis and my brother came downstairs together from their bedroom upstairs but they went outside right after they ate. Caroline came down and made up a lunch to take to her father in the field. Mr. Follis must have gone out before I woke up.

Nobody came into the living room past the doorway. Nobody came anywhere near the couch.

At lunch I made myself two peanut butter sandwiches. Only Caroline and Mrs. Follis were in the kitchen.

Caroline said, "You must be hungry today." Caroline was always nice. She always wore dresses and her long hair was always combed. Caroline looked smoother and cleaner than anyone else.

Mrs. Follis said, "Must be all that reading she’s doing. Really works up an appetite." She laughed. "That right," Mrs. Follis asked me.

"I guess so," I said. "I am really hungry today."

"Maybe you didn’t eat enough at breakfast," Mrs. Follis said. "We’ll have to make sure you get more oatmeal in your bowl tomorrow."

"No, I had plenty," I said, and Mrs. Follis laughed again. Her big housedress shook when she laughed. Even Caroline smiled. When Caroline smiled she kind of looked like our old babysitter in Yakima, the nice one with the freckles and turned up nose.

I took my sandwiches over to the couch and I laid one of them between my knees so it was hidden under the book when I lifted the big heavy Book of Knowledge up into my lap.

In the kitchen, Caroline said, "Mama, I want to show you my painting."

Caroline took painting lessons. Mrs. Follis drove her some place where a woman taught her to paint. Sometimes when Caroline painted she’d let me use the leftover oil paints after she finished.

Caroline said, "My teacher says I’m getting almost good enough to be a professional. She thinks I could start selling my paintings pretty soon.

Mrs. Follis said, "That’s so nice, dear. I’m so proud of you."

When I heard them walking up the stairs I set down my book and moved to the side of the couch. I moved the blanket out of the way. Andy was sitting there. He had his toy soldiers all lined up on the floor beside him.

"Andy," I said, "Here’s a sandwich."

Andy reached for the sandwich. He took a bite.

"You’re real good at being quiet," I said.

"I know," Andy said, and he leaned back against the wall. Then I could hardly see him at all except for his hair and his face.

I moved the blanket back in place and got back up on the couch, back to "Big Klaus and Little Klaus." What would I do when Andy had to go to the bathroom.

I heard Sonny and Carl come in for lunch, moving around in the kitchen, and I hoped they’d stay in there. But Sonny walked into the living room and up to the couch. Carl followed after him.

Sonny took a bite of his sandwich and said, "Say, where is everyone, anyway?" He looked around the room but there was no reason that he should look behind the couch. I didn't hold my breath. I made myself keep breathing in and out.

"Mrs. Follis went upstairs with Carolyn," I said.

"Yeah, well, how about that little guy? Where have he and Lindsay gone off to?"

Sonny put his hand on the back of the couch, but there was no reason for him to look behind the couch. Sonny leaned some of his weight on his arm but I didn’t look to see if his hand made the blanket move on the back of the couch.

My eyes stayed right on my book, and I don't think Sonny heard my breath stop, then start up again.

I said, "They went outside somewhere. I’m not sure where exactly."

Carl said, "They’ll probably show up when they get hungry."

I said, "I think they took sandwiches."

"Making a day of it, huh," Sonny said, and walked over and sat down in the window seat on the other wall. Carl sat down beside him. Carl put his feet up on the cold wood stove.

Sonny said, "Good book?"

I said that it was.

Sonny said, "Sure is a nice day today. It’s a shame you’re wasting all that sunshine sitting in here on the couch all day."

"I want to read my stories," I said, but I couldn't remember the last sentence I read so I tried to find it to read it over again..

"Nothing stopping you from bringing the book outside," Sonny said.

I said, "It’s cooler in here."

Sonny leaned back against the window and crossed his arms and spread his feet out on the floor. He said, "Well, I can see there’s no convincing you. Must be something mighty special about that couch."

"It’s comfortable," I said.

Sonny laughed and said, "Well, Carl, you and I don’t have the luxury of sitting on a comfortable couch all day. We’d better get back out there and give Dad a hand."

Carl said, "I’m ready." He got up and walked back into the kitchen. Sonny followed behind him, and I heard them opening cupboard doors and turning the water faucet on and off.

I thought they’d leave then, but Sonny came back into the living room, and Carl came behind him, both of them carrying a bottle of water, Carl with another sandwich. Sonny walked up to the couch again, but he stopped before he reached it.

Sonny said, "Say, Carl, you know, We've got a lot to do today and I kind of feel sorry for the little guy. What do you say we don’t throw him in the creek after all."

Carl finished chewing, said, "All right by me."

Sonny smiled at me, but I didn’t smile at him, and Sonny smiled at Carl, and Carl smiled back at Sonny.

So probably they knew that Andy was behind the couch,.

Maybe they’d been kidding all along.

I still didn’t tell Andy he could come out from behind the couch. I didn’t think it was a trick, but it might be.

Mainly I didn’t want to hear them laugh when Andy came out.

I didn’t want Andy to hear them laugh.

Didn't want him to hear the sound of Sonny's voice, Sonny's voice that always sounded like he knew a joke.

But I didn't what the joke was, and Andy didn't know.

What Sonny and Carl thought was funny wasn't funny to me. It wasn't funny to Andy, and neither of them was nice like Fred was nice, no matter how much Sonny smiled.

So I waited until they were gone, until past when they were gone, until they were maybe halfway out to the field where Mr. Follis had been working all morning. Out in the sun and the wheat or the corn.

Then I told Andy he could come out now, that nobody was going to throw him into the creek.