Free 400 Boys and 50 More by Marc Laidlaw Page A

Walter Cronkite,” Jeff said.
    The camera clicked.
    Maddy laughed. “Oh, Bill, you're a riot. Taking pictures of pictures.”
    “They’ll be valuable someday. Jeff and Eddie will be able to look at them and remember this.”
    “If they remember to look,” said Lou. He got up and walked into the back of the house.
    “What’s with him?” asked Jeff's dad, her brother.
    “I don’t know, Bill.”
    “How've you been, Maddy?” asked his mother, sitting beside Jeff. With adults on either side, he felt overwhelmed. He slipped from the sofa and stood by his father, still focusing on the television.
    “Hey,” said his dad. “I think this is it. Turn up the sound, Jeff.”
    He hurried to the TV. An astronaut spoke:
    “It’s kind of soft. You can kick it around with your foot.”
    Suddenly the picture changed into a screaming blur. Jeff leapt back, swept by chills. What had they found up there?
    “My God!” Maddy said, running for the hall. “The hair dryer!”
    “I’m not touching it!” Lou yelled from the bedroom.
    The picture calmed. Something moved into the lunar view. Jeff twisted the focus knob and played with the tint. The moon turned red, then yellow, and the haze got worse. The sound began buzzing and throbbing.
    “Let me,” said Jeff's dad. He worked the knobs, and the picture returned . . but they were too late.
    “—for mankind.”
    Jeff yelled, “We did it!”
    “Damn,” said his dad. “Get out of the way, Jeff.” He stepped back and accidentally hit the tripod. His dad swore and swatted at him, then took picture after picture. Amazingly, the clarity remained. Neil Armstrong was on the moon. Jeff could almost see what it looked like.
    Maddy came out of the hall, weeping. Behind her, the bedroom door slammed shut.
    “Maddy,” said Jeff's mother, hurrying over to her.
    Jeff looked back at the TV, imagining the moon hanging far out in space, a tiny man standing practically barefoot on its surface. It was sharp and impossibly clear, but it was all black and white.
    “Hey,” said Jeff’s dad, crossing to Maddy. "What’s wrong?”
    She shook her head, hiding her face. “Reruns. That’s all he’s been saying all morning. They already walked. I don’t know what’s going on with him.”
    Jeff got goose bumps. Reruns?
    The adults went into the guest bedroom, leaving him alone.
    Reruns, like The Honeymooners ?
    He forgot the TV until, by itself, the picture changed from the moon to a bottle of Ivory Liquid, then to acres of cars, a bullfight. He twisted the knob but with no effect. A dozen pictures flew past. There went the moon!
    Eddie laughed. Spinning, Jeff saw him punching buttons on the remote-control box.
    “Stop it!”
    Jeff flung himself at Eddie, and they both landed on the floor, pummeling each other. Excited by their cries, Mab worked open the screen door and rushed in. Jeff curled into a ball and kicked out, knocking Eddie across the room but letting the dog closer. She leapt all over him while Eddie made his escape. Jeff struggled up and ran out, Mab behind.
    He chased Eddie once around the house, then the heat overwhelmed all of them. They stood panting and sweating in the front yard.
    “You kick like a girl,” Eddie said.
    “Shut up.”
    Jeff opened the door and went inside. As his eyes adjusted to the shadows he saw a huge silhouette rising against the TV. It was Uncle Lou, his hands full of shiny brown ribbon. The camera lay on the floor, its back wide open.
    “Unc—”
    Lou dropped the exposed film, taking a step toward Jeff.
    “I heard Mab in here,” Lou said.
    “But she went out with us.”
    Behind a smile, Uncle Lou looked murderous. His huge hands reached for Jeff.
    The other adults came out of the guest room.
    “Oh, no,” said Jeff's dad. “What happened here?”
    “Mab got into the camera,” Lou said. “The boys were roughhousing.” They all looked at Jeff. Eddie stayed outside.
    “Crap,” said his dad, gathering the ruined film in his arms.
    Jeff