Early Warning

When the stake was finally in, with two hits from Billy, they took the hammer around the tent, and Michael did his first one. He got it in on four hits. Pretty deep, too. This made Richie mad. It always made him mad that he was older but Michael was bigger and stronger. Michael never let him forget it. His dad said that that should make Richie fight harder and smarter, but that didn’t work every time. Billy brought the hammer around, and the other two boys watched Richie do his second stake. Because he’d had some practice in aiming this time, he got it in on four hits, so he felt not as mad. It went like that. After all the stakes were in, they walked around the tent and crawled into it and sat and lay down, then crawled out of it. It smelled bad, but Richie thought it was neat — a little dark, like you could hear a ghost story in there. Billy must have felt the same way, so he went into the house to get a blanket and some comic books. He was still talking more to Michael than to him, and Michael kept giving Richie that look. The thing about Michael was that he didn’t have to say a word to get Richie — his every look and movement rippled through Richie, no matter whether he wanted them to or not.

Once they had the blanket and the comics, Billy decided they needed 7-Ups because they had worked hard, so he headed back to the house. Michael took the blanket into the tent to spread it out. He said, “Leave the comics alone. I get first dibs.” Richie didn’t say anything. He most of the time didn’t say anything.

Squatting there by the side of the tent, Richie saw that one of the stakes might be coming out, so he picked up the hammer where they’d dropped it in the grass and hit the stake. It went in a little, so he hit it again. It was after the second hit that he saw the bump moving along the roof of the tent. Of course he knew it was Michael’s head — he wasn’t an idiot. The bump pushed out, then slipped to the right, then pushed out, then slipped to the right, and he lifted the hammer and hit it. There was a loud groan. The bump went away, and there was a sound of rustling. He went around and looked between the flaps. Michael was lying on his side.

Just then, Billy showed up with the 7-Ups and said, “What happened?” And Richie said, “I hit him with the hammer.”

Billy ran for the house.

That was when it got scary, because Mrs. Weston came screaming out the door and the girls were behind her, and all the girls gave him mean looks. Billy looked worried, too. Michael was still lying there; “out cold” was an expression they said on TV. This must be it, Richie thought.

Mrs. Weston dragged Michael out of the tent and laid him on the grass, and the oldest girl, Randy, ran into the house to call Nedra; as quick as could be, Nedra came running down the street and through the gate, shouting, “Oh my Lord, oh my Lord! What a pair of boys, it’s always something.” She smacked Richie on the head and said, “This time maybe you killed him and got your wish, you naughty child. I will deal with you later.”

Nedra had a stick of butter in her hand, and as she started to open the paper wrapping, Michael groaned and moved. Nedra held him down and said, “Now, don’t move, Michael; that a boy.” Mrs. Weston patted Michael on the arm. Nedra felt around on Michael’s head and said, “Well, here’s the goose egg — heavens to Betsy — big as my fist,” and she put the butter on it and made him lie there. The girls went back inside. Then Nedra said, “What in the world did you do this for? Two days ago, they were pushing each other on the stairs. They said it was just a game, but it looks like all-out war to me.”

Richie said, “It was just a game.”

Mrs. Weston started shaking her head. “Well, boys don’t know the difference half the time. And girls! Well, I don’t know which is worse. He’s coming around.” Michael sat up. Richie wondered if Nedra was going to tell on him. Nedra said, “Maybe I should take him to the doctor. Mr. Langdon is in Venezuela again, and the missus is over the river.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” said Mrs. Weston. “He’s fine. Let’s have a cup of coffee. Look at him. Michael, you okay?”

Michael nodded.

“Do you feel like you need to go to the doctor?”

Michael said, “I don’t want to go to the doctor.” He felt his bump, then sniffed, but he didn’t cry. He didn’t have a single tear. “Can we go in the tent and read some comics?”

“Sure,” said Mrs. Weston. “But if you feel like you are going to pass out, you send Billy to get me, okay?”

Michael nodded.

Nedra said, “I need a smoke.”

Mrs. Weston said, “Me, too.”