Jimmy tried to hear the movie through the noise of running water. There were sirens and gunfire. Usually these sounds put him right to sleep, but tonight his welts kept him awake.

He was still awake after Mom and Dad had gone to bed and Dad was snoring. Jimmy waited until he was sure that Mom must be asleep too, and then he got up. He dressed without turning on the light.

When his shoes were tied, he opened his door just enough and slipped into the kitchen. He closed it so that there was no click.

At the back door, he paused. Dad was still snoring, so Jimmy took the key from the nail over Mom's wringer washer. He couldn't unlock the deadbolt without making noise, but he didn't think Mom and Dad would hear. If Jasmine did, she might wake up crying for fear of monsters. But that wasn't unusual. If she kept it up long enough, Mom might come to tell her it was only a bad dream. Jasmine had lots of bad dreams, and Mom no longer looked in on Jimmy just because his sister was bawling.

Jimmy unlocked the bolt, opened the door, and stepped outside. He closed the door and relocked the bolt, then crept around the house into the front yard. When he reached the road, he jumped into the ditch and ran toward town.

He could see the water tower ahead. It was like a silhouette of the Tin Woodman, black against the purple sky.

Dogs in town barked at Jimmy, and a few lights came on. The dogs didn't scare him. He and dogs got along. Some of their owners, though, might call Officer Johnston, the Wantoda cop. Johnston loved grabbing kids out after curfew. But only one car pa.s.sed Jimmy before he reached the Boyles', and he was able to hide behind a parked van. The car wasn't Johnston.

The Boyles didn't have a dog. A white cat ran from Jimmy as he came up the driveway, but he wasn't startled. The house was dark, as were all the houses on this street. He went to the backyard gate, stopped to listen, and climbed over. The chain-link rattled as if in a breeze.

Jimmy crawled through the gra.s.s like a lizard. He kept close to the flower bed that Mrs. Boyle had linedwith chunks of granite. He would be chigger-bit, but that was better than being seen. Some of the windows above him were open, so he was careful to be quiet. He slithered behind the house, hoping Todd's window wasn't open too. He wanted to break gla.s.s. He had been invited over here once, before Todd had turned into Boss Stud, and he remembered that Todd's room had blue carpeting on the floor and a portable TV on the dresser. If the TV was still there, maybe he could hit it with the granite boulder he would heave inside.

A wail made him freeze. It came from the window directly above. Jimmy remained still until he heard voices from deeper within the house, and then he crawled over the rocks into the flower bed. He pressed against the house's foundation. A yellow rectangle shone onto the gra.s.s where he had been.

"Are you dirty, sweetheart?" Mrs. Boyle's groggy voice asked. The wail continued. "No? Hungry?" A moment later the wail stopped.

The foundation was cool and gritty against Jimmy's cheek. Petals tickled his nose.

Mrs. Boyle began singing. "Hush, little baby, don't you cry. Mama's gonna sing you a lullaby..." She was accompanied by creaking wood.

Jimmy got to his knees. Then he stood. He could just see over the windowsill. Flower-print curtains hung on the other side of the screen. There was a gap between the curtains, and he could see Mrs. Boyle in a rocking chair beside a white ba.s.sinet. The top of her robe was open and pulled to one side. Baby Tina Boyle was sucking on the exposed breast. When Baby Tina stopped for a second, the nipple stood out bright red.

Jimmy was fascinated. When Jasmine had been a baby, he had never seen Mom feed her with anything but a bottle. And he had never seen a lady's breast, although he had seen pictures. The real thing was more amazing.

The door behind Mrs. Boyle opened. Jimmy almost ducked and ran, but then he saw Mr. Boyle's sleep-puffed face. He hadn't been spotted.

"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 Sat.u.r.day?"

"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 Sat.u.r.day."

"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 thereason 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 gra.s.s. 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 s.p.a.ceship. 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 c.o.c.ked 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 alt.i.tude 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 newGreen 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 Sat.u.r.day, 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 hisbackpack. 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 ba.s.sinet. 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?"

Jimmy shook his head. "You have to do one more thing first." Baby Tina squirmed and began to cry again.

Jasmine tried to peer around Jimmy at his backpack. "Whatcha got?"

"A bloodhound puppy," Jimmy said. "It's howling because it wants to track Doll-Baby, but I won't let it out until you do what I say."

Jasmine scowled. "No fair."

Jimmy looked at the sky. "I guess you're too little anyway."

"Am not!" Jimmy shifted his weight to quiet Baby Tina. It didn't work this time. "Okay," he said to Jasmine. "I'll let you try. You know how to get to Chrissie's house?"

"I went there for birthday cake."

"Then you can go there again. But you have to promise to be careful crossing the streets." He paused.

"Mom might not want you to go by yourself."

"Would too!"

"All right. Go to Chrissie's house and put this on the doorstep." He took a folded piece of paper from a pocket and handed it to her. He knew its words by heart: Todd Boyle look in Baby Tina's room and be at field south of Clay Hill by Potwin Road at 1:45 P.M. to take her home or else we will kill her and your dad will kill you. Bring this to prove ident.i.ty, signed, Some Friends. P.S. We are from Emporia so if you don't show up or if you call fuzz we will take her to beef plant. Wantoda fuzz Johnston is drunk on Sat.u.r.days and won't answer anyway and if you call sheriff they will take three hours and she will be hamburger.

Jasmine unfolded the paper and stared at it. Jimmy had written the note in cursive, and Jasmine couldn't read cursive yet.

"After you put it on the step," Jimmy said, "ring the doorbell and run away. This is a secret message, so you have to run before anyone sees you. If anyone does, say that you saw some men drop the paper.

Can you do all that?"

"Uh-huh."

"Tell me what you're going to do."

"Go to Chrissie's. Put the paper on the porch and push the doorbell. Then run back here and you help me find Doll-Baby with the puppy."

"Right. Get going, Agent X-9."

Jasmine refolded the paper and left. Jimmy didn't like sending her off alone, but it was the only way.

When Jasmine was out of sight, Jimmy took off his backpack and brought Baby Tina out for some fresh air. She squalled worse than ever. She was moist and red.

"It's okay," Jimmy said, jiggling her. "Hush, little baby, don't you cry. James is gonna sing you a lullaby...."

After a few minutes Baby Tina calmed down. Jimmy replaced her in the pack.

The kite was flying at the full length of its line when Jasmine returned. Kyle Thornton was with her, and he was immediately interested in the rod and reel. Jimmy had stuck the handle into the ground and braced it with clods. The shaft was propped on a forked stick, and it quivered with the wind. The monofilament,barely visible, curved upward in a blue arc. It was as tight as a banjo string.