FOR A CHANGE, LaJo and Dusty are bunking together under The Kid’s arm. LaJo dreams Jack is calling. Now the three of them are yipping and chasing the herd across the Plains and LaJo is about to lasso a black-and-gold beauty when he feels somebody pulling his finger and calling his name.
He opens his eyes. It’s William the runt.
“LaJo! I finded you!”
LaJo recloses his eyes. “I’m sleeping.”
Now the runt is pulling on LaJo’s wrist with both hands. He’s actually grunting with the effort. “C’mon, LaJo—let’s play.”
The Newbie’s first day is over. LaJo’s job is done. He doesn’t ever have to see this kid again. So why is he staggering to his feet, allowing the sleepless runt to drag him off to who knows where? To Playground, it turns out, lit along the way by the soft glow of sleepers’ monsters.
“Push me, LaJo!” the runt pipes, plopping onto a swing seat. LaJo pushes. The runt goes, “Wheeee!” Then it’s on to the sliding board. The seesaw. The monkey bars. “Wheeee! Wheeee!”
“Cartoons!” cries the runt. He makes LaJo sit through Scooby-Doo, The Flintstones and, most painfully, Donald Duck’s rich uncle, Scrooge McDuck. LaJo is fast asleep when he feels the finger-pull again. “LaJo! Hippodrome!”
They’re riding a hippo mouth in a circle for about the hundredth time when LaJo finally catches a break. The runt is slumped against him, dead asleep. He eases himself away, steps off the carousel, walks—and stops. Stops and just stands there in the dark for no good reason. Turns for no good reason. Goes back to Hippodrome, grabs the runt, slings him over his shoulder and returns to The Kid for no good reason. Dusty is giggling in his sleep. LaJo lays the runt down, lays himself down. The runt is between him and Dusty. The runt turns and flops his arm across LaJo’s chest. LaJo is about to remove it. But doesn’t. No good reason.
Now he’s wide-awake. He crosses his hands under his head. Except for the runt’s flopped arm, he wouldn’t know there was anything but himself and the night. The sky. The stars. So many. He’s never seen so many of anything. He lifts his head. There’s the moon. Over Gorilla Hill as usual. It looks so low. Reminds him of a soccer ball. He knows it’s crazy, but he can’t help thinking that if he went over there right now, climbed up the hill and stood right under the moon, he could jump up and touch it.