Little Klein Part 6

"Enough," she said. "My bedtime services from now on will include one song and a prayer. Now, go get your dog. If there are any nightmares lurking, his smell will surely keep them at bay."

By the time the Bigs returned from the farm, chipmunks had taken up residence in the doghouse and LeRoy, like Goldilocks, had tried out each of their beds, sleeping every night, though, with Little Klein.

Night after night LeRoy patrolled the long and narrow upstairs bedroom. Sometimes he needed the benefit of a tree so badly and his boys slept so soundly that he had to wake Mother Klein to be let out. But that was his only complaint.

One night after his tree run, LeRoy peeked over the edge of Little Klein's bed to make sure he was asleep. Then he pattered between the other three beds, sniffing at still feet and damp hair, and under beds for remnants of sandwiches or crackers. He nearly woke Mark when he got into a chase with what turned out to be a bunny of dust, which, once caught, made him sneeze. These were now LeRoy's nightly rounds, and he trotted proudly, then, paws up on the windowsill, looked out at the moon, a howl building in his belly. He gave it just a small hollow voice, though, lest he be sent outside for the rest of the night.

He crawled up on Little Klein's feet and laid down his head. Now that LeRoy slept indoors, truth was he'd grown skittish about the outdoors after dark. It was a good thing Little Klein needed protection from bad dreams.

The next day toward evening, the boys walked to the town park for a game of baseball. There were lots of kids around, and LeRoy was not the only dog. The struggle to keep track of his boy in the crowd put LeRoy in an irascible mood, and when he found Little Klein hunched down petting some puff of a pup, he couldn't help himself a" he barked so loud the puppy wet the ground right there, and then LeRoy nipped him.

"LeROY!" Little Klein gasped.

"Why, I never!" exclaimed Mildred Gamble, hardware store maven, swooping the puppy into her arms.

"Fluffy, are you hurt?"

LeRoy barked again, but his bravado wavered when he saw the look on his boy's face.

"You're mighty lucky Fluffy isn't hurt, young man," Mildred continued. "I ought to call the pound." She leaned down and gave LeRoy a swift slap on the snout. "Bad dog!"

LeRoy lunged to nip her, too, but an arm at his neck held him back and he watched the fluff ball disappear with Mildred Gamble while his boy talked soothingly into his ear. Then another brother was there holding out a piece of frankfurter, and LeRoy forgot all about being ornery. He pranced along between his boys the rest of the evening, running with them when the clouds turned suddenly dark and the rain started. When they got home, he barely paused at his doghouse, he'd grown so accustomed to slipping in the screen door behind his brood.

The rain kept LeRoy awake nearly till morning, and when he did finally sleep, his dreams rumbled with the terror of lost boys, of muted barks, of swimming after a floating Fluffy, who in dream's translation was larger and fiercer than LeRoy.

The sky drained for days and by the time it paused, cabin fever was epidemic. An unbearable stillness hung over the town, a heat so soggy Little Klein's socks lay still damp by his bed in the morning. Then LeRoy woke them up early with his feet, sniffing and licking.

Little moaned about getting the smallest bowl of oatmeal, and all three Bigs growled at him to Shut Up.

"That's it," declared Mother Klein, whapping the wooden spoon against the counter with a snap that broke it in two and made the boys jump. "It's too hot in here for the five of us. I've been cooped up in this house too long with your bickering and wrestling and . . . and . . . et cetera. I want you all outside doing something constructive. Preferably out of my sight."

Little Klein couldn't believe she was including him in the decree. "Yes," she added, "you, too. Clear your dishes and get."

They stumbled out the back door and sat on the steps.

"Hey, make room for me," complained Little Klein.

Luke pushed Mark off the end and scooted over. Just as Little sat, Mark got up and shoved back, b.u.mping Luke into Little, who smashed into Matthew, who got up and raised his arm at the whole mess of them.

Mother Klein came to the door. "Either find a task or I'll find one for you." She tossed their shoes out after them.

Little Klein slouched over to LeRoy's doghouse and picked at a loose shingle on the edge of the roof. Matthew swooped him up and tossed him over the doghouse to Luke.

"Hey! Stop that! Put me down!"

"Sure. Here you go," and with that Little Klein was deposited on the roof of the doghouse. He slid down slanted boards to the ground. It was kind of fun.

"Hey, do it again!" Once again Luke hoisted his brother to the roof for a b.u.mpy slide to the ground.

"My turn," said Mark and Matthew at once, and they dived at the roof from opposite sides, colliding in a heap over the top.

"Make room!" shouted Luke, who piled on top of the other two. Little Klein tried to join the pileup by climbing the dangling legs.

"I'm suffocating under here," called the bottom Klein, and when the pile shifted there was a slow crack, then a snap, and before the sounds registered in their brains as breaking boards, the sloped roof flattened, then collapsed, and four heads and torsos were trapped inside the buckling walls.

The Klein boys sorted out their limbs and rose slowly to their feet.

"Sliver!" Little Klein yanked at a small splinter of wood stuck in his hand.

"Look at all the nails," Luke said. They stepped back gingerly and stood in shocked silence around the wreckage.

Mother Klein came to the door and sighed. Then she shook her head and went back inside, taking LeRoy with her.

Outside, Little Klein broke the silence. "Luke ruined LeRoy's doghouse."

"You started it, squirt."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Now what are we going to do?" asked Mark.

"You're all a bunch of sissies," Matthew scoffed.

Glares were pa.s.sed around. Little Klein stepped forward and pulled a loose board off the side of the doghouse and laid it on the ground. He yanked off another and set it neatly next to the first one. "Now LeRoy's got a window," he said.

But soon the window turned into a door and then the wall was lost all together, the house now beyond saving as one loose board led to another. While his brothers took over the dismantling, Little Klein darted around them, picking up boards and sorting out the splintered ones from the good ones.

"Here," he said, tossing a shingle to Matthew, who started a pile. Mark picked through the wreckage for nails. Luke walked around Little Klein's boards.

"Look at this," he said, pointing to the neat rows. "What do you see?"

They all stood up and stared. "What?"

"We have enough wood here to build a raft!"

"I was thinking about a tree house . . ." started Little Klein. But his voice was drowned out by the excitement of the Bigs, who were already planning a raft. Then Little Klein saw himself on the raft, floating along the middle of the river. He saw himself pa.s.sing right over the den of The Minister and reaching down to scoop him up with a net. He abandoned his plans and joined his brothers. "Go look in the garage for rope," commanded Matthew.

"And see if you can find a tarp in the bas.e.m.e.nt," added Luke.

Mother Klein brought out a basket with sandwiches and bottles of milk as they finished their raft.

"Have a picnic by the river," she said. "And don't take Wilson's Fork."

"We know, Ma."

"Keep an eye on the sky. I don't trust this hot, still air. And be back for dinner," she added.

"We know."

LeRoy barked at the door, and Mother Klein let him out.

"Wait for LeRoy!" she called unnecessarily as LeRoy bounded out, yapping and trying to get his nose in the basket.

"And keep track of your brother; he's not a strong swimmer."

"We know," said the Bigs as Little Klein moaned, "Mother!"

The Klein Boys balanced their craft on the back of Mark's bike and pushed it out of town. LeRoy followed them to the river, where Little Klein launched his brothers into the porcelain water with a shove that left him on sh.o.r.e.

"Wait for me!" he cried as a swirling current caught the raft on its conveyor belt. The Big Kleins were spinning; they were sailing fast.

"No fair!" Little Klein stomped as the raft rounded the bend.

"Wrong way!" he yelled when it turned at the river's fork. LeRoy nudged Little Klein. He barked and ran up the bank. He turned and barked again.

"Shoot, LeRoy. We get left behind again." Little Klein scrambled through the raspberry bushes after LeRoy. He heard yelling. Little Klein ran faster, trying to follow LeRoy's barks. Mother was going to be so mad they'd taken Wilson's Fork. They may have taken off without him, but at least he wouldn't get in trouble. At the top of the bank he saw the raft again, and his smug heart went limp. The raft was stuck on a rock in the middle of the river, but there were no Kleins on board. LeRoy was already in the water, swimming instinctively now as in his dreams to the three heads that popped up, a constellation in the river's thundering sky.

"Help!" screamed Mark.

"Shoot!" called Luke.

"The falls!" cried Matthew as he latched onto the dog.

The falls.

Little Klein ran for the road. He ran and yelled, stumbled and yelled.

"Help! Help! Help!"

By the time he reached the road his voice was no thicker than kite string and the pa.s.sing car was moving too fast to notice a small boy in the brush. A thicket of brambles caught Little Klein. He yanked one leg then the other, wrestling himself free before stepping onto the tar shoulder. He could see a silhouette across the two-lane, but was it human or animal?

"Help!" he gasped, but the shape did not move. He pursed his lips, but he was out of whistle, too. He shivered like January, teeth rattling, kneecaps quaking. Little Klein put his two index fingers in his mouth, Rich Wedge's method, and he blew. Nothing. He spat. He stomped. He licked his lips, puckered, and tried again. This time a" Oh, Glory Halleluia a" his instrument trilled; it trumpeted. The shadow quivered and rose.

Holy Moses, it was Mean Emma Brown. He sucked in his breath. One strip of tar separated him from the boy-squasher. If it weren't that Little Klein needed the Big Kleins to protect him from Emma Brown in all the futures he hoped to have, he would have backed away. But now she had seen him.

She tramped her big brown boots across both lanes without looking for cars. She laced her big brown fingers together and cracked her bony knuckles. When the bellow of Emma's "What?" hit Little Klein, his bladder released.

"The falls!" he whimpered.

"I can see that," Emma snorted. "You call me over here for a square of toilet paper?"

Now Little Klein's eyes released, too. "My brothers!"

Emma looked hard at Little Klein. "Your brothers aren't . . . they didn't . . . Wilson's Fork?"

Little Klein nodded.

"Aw, c.r.a.p!" said Emma. "I'd just about caught a dragonfly over there. c.r.a.p. Well, step on out."

Little Klein looked at her wide.

"You stand in that lane; I'll stand in this one," she continued. "Try to look tall."

Little Klein stood on the yellow line, his legs wet and sticky, snot running over the bridge of his quivering lip. He drew a hot raspy breath and raised his shoulders as far as he could.

Little Klein thought about his futures. There was his air hero future. He was a member of Captain Midnight's Secret Squadron and had in his damp pocket at this moment his Photomatic Code-O-Graph. When Captain Midnight's eyesight got bad, as it was sure to searching for Ivan Shark in the dark, Little Klein would be ready to take over.

There was his farmer future, where he rode a horse that made him taller than all the other Kleins and where he had a pack of wolves that bared their teeth should Mean Emma Brown even think about stealing corn from his field.

Little Klein slid one eye in Emma's direction. Soon his brothers would be here to raise their fists at her. His brothers must have climbed out of the river by now. They were probably sneaking up behind Emma, laughing as they plotted their surprise attack.

Then there was his golden future. The future that featured Little Klein as a star boxer, raising his dukes to the likes of Joe Louis and Sugar Ray Robinson. He'd have red silk shorts and brown leather gloves the size of balloons. From town to town he'd ride in his very own pickup truck, with all the banana sandwiches he could eat in a cooler on the seat next to him. There would be photos of Little Klein in the drugstores. Little sc.r.a.ppers would ask for his autograph.

In each of Little Klein's futures there were Big Kleins. Big Kleins filling the tank of his fighter plane. Big Kleins driving plows through his fields. Big Kleins collecting bets before fights and clearing his path through the cheering crowds. Soon Big Kleins would be grabbing him off this hot pavement and leaving him stranded in a high tree or dangling him over the rushing river from a hanging branch.

The rushing river.

The road was deserted.

After a thousand years a pickup sputtered around the bend, tooted its horn, and coasted onto the shoulder next to Emma. An ancient woman leaned out the window.

"What's a matter, girl?"

Emma pointed at Little Klein.

"The Klein Boys've caught a current."

"Fool boys, in the river after those rains," Nora Nettle scoffed. "Hop in the back."

Emma grabbed Little Klein and hoisted him into a heap of rope and barrels and fishing rods, then climbed in herself. The truck lurched forward and off the road, b.u.mping and sc.r.a.ping through the brush until it skidded to a stop at the edge of the falls. Emma and Nora Nettle climbed out to the cliff. Little Klein, caught in a tangle of rope and fishing line, hollered for his brothers.

"Come on out, guys!" he shouted. "I got her cornered!" He wrestled himself free and dropped over the edge of the truck. No sweaty hand grabbed his puny arm. No smelly breath hissed a snake scare in his ear. No sweeping arm lifted him off his feet. Little Klein stomped around the side of the truck.

"Guys!" he shouted. "Come on, guys!" Little Klein wiped his hand across his eyes and let out a roar.

"Stop it, you guys!"

A shivering blanket of wet fur yelped at Little Klein's side. "LeRoy!" he cried. "Good boy, LeRoy. You swam, LeRoy! Good boy! Where are the guys, LeRoy?" He wrapped his arms around the dog's neck. "You're okay, boy. Shake it out, shake it out, come on, shake off all that water!" Little Klein shook himself all over to demonstrate. LeRoy gave a little shake and laid his head on his paws.

Then Emma was standing next to him. Mean Emma Brown was looking at him with her railroad nail eyes.

Little Klein bared his teeth at Emma Brown and put up his dukes. "Where're my brothers?"

Emma looked into Little Klein's eyes, into all his pasts and all his futures. She lifted Little Klein back into the nest of rope and fishing line. Then she dropped the shaking dog into his lap and got into the cab with Nora Nettle.

"Wait!" cried Little Klein. "My mother will kill me if I come home without the boys!"