Free Little Klein by Anne Ylvisaker Page B

who piled on top of the other two. Little Klein tried to join the pileup by climbing the dangling legs.
    “I’m suffocating under here,” called the bottom Klein, and when the pile shifted there was a slow crack, then a snap, and before the sounds registered in their brains as breaking boards, the sloped roof flattened, then collapsed, and four heads and torsos were trapped inside the buckling walls.
    The Klein boys sorted out their limbs and rose slowly to their feet.
    “Sliver!” Little Klein yanked at a small splinter of wood stuck in his hand.
    “Look at all the nails,” Luke said. They stepped back gingerly and stood in shocked silence around the wreckage.
    Mother Klein came to the door and sighed. Then she shook her head and went back inside, taking LeRoy with her.
    Outside, Little Klein broke the silence. “Luke ruined LeRoy’s doghouse.”
    “You started it, squirt.”
    “Did not!”
    “Did too!”
    “Now what are we going to do?” asked Mark.
    “You’re all a bunch of sissies,” Matthew scoffed.
    Glares were passed around. Little Klein stepped forward and pulled a loose board off the side of the doghouse and laid it on the ground. He yanked off another and set it neatly next to the first one. “Now LeRoy’s got a window,” he said.
    But soon the window turned into a door and then the wall was lost all together, the house now beyond saving as one loose board led to another. While his brothers took over the dismantling, Little Klein darted around them, picking up boards and sorting out the splintered ones from the good ones.
    “Here,” he said, tossing a shingle to Matthew, who started a pile. Mark picked through the wreckage for nails. Luke walked around Little Klein’s boards.
    “Look at this,” he said, pointing to the neat rows. “What do you see?”
    They all stood up and stared. “What?”
    “We have enough wood here to build a raft!”
    “I was thinking about a tree house . . .” started Little Klein. But his voice was drowned out by the excitement of the Bigs, who were already planning a raft. Then Little Klein saw himself on the raft, floating along the middle of the river. He saw himself passing right over the den of The Minister and reaching down to scoop him up with a net. He abandoned his plans and joined his brothers. “Go look in the garage for rope,” commanded Matthew.
    “And see if you can find a tarp in the basement,” added Luke.
    Mother Klein brought out a basket with sandwiches and bottles of milk as they finished their raft.
    “Have a picnic by the river,” she said. “And don’t take Wilson’s Fork.”
    “We know, Ma.”
    “Keep an eye on the sky. I don’t trust this hot, still air. And be back for dinner,” she added.
    “We know.”
    LeRoy barked at the door, and Mother Klein let him out.
    “Wait for LeRoy!” she called unnecessarily as LeRoy bounded out, yapping and trying to get his nose in the basket.
    “And keep track of your brother; he’s not a strong swimmer.”
    “We know,”
said the Bigs as Little Klein moaned, “Mother!”

The Klein Boys balanced their craft on the back of Mark’s bike and pushed it out of town. LeRoy followed them to the river, where Little Klein launched his brothers into the porcelain water with a shove that left him on shore.
    “Wait for me!” he cried as a swirling current caught the raft on its conveyor belt. The Big Kleins were spinning; they were sailing fast.
    “No fair!” Little Klein stomped as the raft rounded the bend.
    “Wrong way!” he yelled when it turned at the river’s fork. LeRoy nudged Little Klein. He barked and ran up the bank. He turned and barked again.
    “Shoot, LeRoy. We get left behind again.” Little Klein scrambled through the raspberry bushes after LeRoy. He heard yelling. Little Klein ran faster, trying to follow LeRoy’s barks. Mother was going to be so mad they’d taken Wilson’s Fork. They may have taken off without him, but at least he wouldn’t get in trouble.