I held my breath and picked up one of Todd's chubby hands. One of the older boys at the Home told me if you dipped someone's hand in a warm glass of water whilst they're asleep they don't have any choice but to pee the bed. It's something about chemistry and biology making some valve in your guts open up and ... woop, zoop, sloop... you got a wet bed.
I started to dip Todd's fingers in the water. But I couldn't dip more than two fingers at a time. Todd's bed stayed as dry as the desert.
I tried holding Todd's hand flat and pouring water over it but he still didn't wet the bed.
Finally I decided to just pour the water on his pajama pants. I pulled the blanket and sheet down and emptied the jar.
His face twitched a couple of times and for a minute it looked like his eyes were going to come open but they stayed shut. He smiled and the warm water from the jelly jar opened that little valve up and... woop, zoop, sloop... he soaked his sheets!
I tiptoed out of the room and down the hall and out the door.
My favorite saying in the whole world is "He who laughs last laughs best" so I put my hand over my mouth and whispered, "Ha-ha-ha."
I picked up my suitcase and walked to the street.
Man! I was on the lam, I was just like Public Enemy Number One. If J. Edgar Hoover and the FBI saw me now I'd be in some real serious hot water!
***
BEING ON THE LAM was a whole lot of fun ... for about five minutes. Every time my heart beat I could feel the blood pushing hot and hard on the inside of my sting spots and the bite on my hand. But I couldn't let that slow me down, I had to get out of this neighborhood as quick as I could.
I knew a nervous-looking, stung-up kid with blood dripping from a fish-head bite and carrying a old raggedy suitcase didn't look like he belonged around here. The only hope I had was the north side library. If I got there maybe Miss Hill would be able to help me, maybe she'd understand and would be able to tell me what to do. And for now I could sneak into the library's basement to sleep.
It was a lot later than I'd ever been up before and I was kind of scared of the cops catching me. I had to be real careful, even if it was the middle of the night, even if I was crouching down, sneaking along the street like Pretty Boy Floyd.
At the library I walked past a row of giant Christmas trees that were planted on the side of the building. There was a door on the side with a light burning above it so I kept walking in the shadows made by the big trees. When I got to the back windows, I almost busted out crying. Somebody had gone and put big metal bars on the windows.
Even though I knew it was useless I tried tugging at the bars but they were the real McCoy, solid steel.
I headed back to the Christmas trees. They were low enough to the ground that no one could see me unless they were really looking, so I started opening my suitcase. Most folks don't have sense enough to carry a blanket around with them, but you never know when you might be sleeping under a Christmas tree at the library so I always keep mine handy.
I untied the strange knots that the Amoses had put in my twine and opened the suitcase. I could tell right away that someone had been fumbling through my things. First off, whenever I put the blanket in, I always fold it so that it stops all the other things from banging up against each other, but those doggone Amoses had just stuffed it in without paying no mind to what it was mashing up against.
I lifted the blanket out and saw that everything else was still there. You might be able to say that the Amoses were some mean old nosy folks, but you couldn't call them thieves.
I picked up the old tobacco bag that I keep my rocks in. I could tell by the way the drawstring was pulled that the Amoses had been poking through this too. I jiggled it up and down in my hand a couple of times and it felt like none of the rocks was missing but I opened it to count them anyway. None of them was gone.
Next I pulled Momma's picture out of the envelope I kept it in and held it so the light from the Library's side door would shine down on it. It looked like the Amoses hadn't hurt it. This was the only picture of Momma in the world.
Running across the top of it was a sign that was writ on a long skinny flag, it said, BOYS AND GIRLS--FOLLOW THE GENTLE LIGHT TO THE MISS B. GOTTEN MOON PARK. Underneath the sign, between two big wagon wheels, was Momma.
She was about as old as I am now and was looking down and frowning. I can't understand why she was so unhappy, this park looked like the kind of place where you could have a lot of fun.
In the picture Momma was sitting on a real live little midget horse. It looked tired and dragged out like those big workhorses do, but it had a teeny-tiny body with a big sag where most horses have a straight back.
Momma was sitting right in the middle of the horse's back, riding him sidesaddle, except there wasn't any saddle so I guess you have to say she was riding him side-sag. She had two six-shooter pistols in her hands and the way her face looked you could tell she wished she could've emptied them on somebody. And I know who that somebody was. Momma told me it was her father, my granddad.
He'd gone and ruined everybody's fun that day by getting in a big fight with my mother about the gigantic white twenty-five-gallon Texas cowboy hat that she was wearing.