Free Little Klein by Anne Ylvisaker Page A

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 — 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, bumping 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 bumpy 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,