'Why not？'
'Because I saw the hole it made getting out；' Jonesy said； 'and so did you。 I don't know what it is； but we're not going to get rid of it just by pushing a handle。 It's too big。'
'Fuck。' Beaver slammed the heel of his hand against his forehead。
Jonesy nodded。
'All right； Jonesy。 Go get the tape。'
In the doorway； Jonesy paused and looked back。 'And Beaver 。。。 ？'
The Beav raised his eyebrows。
'Sit tight； buddy…'
Beaver started to giggle。 So did Jonesy。 They looked at each other； Jonesy in the doorway and the Beav sitting on the closed toilet seat； snorting laughter。 Then Jonesy burned across the big central room （still giggling … sit tight； the more he thought about it the funnier it seemed） toward the kitchen door。 He felt hot and feverish； both horrified and hilarious。 Sit tight。 Jesus…Christ…Bananas。
2
Beav could hear Jonesy giggling all the way across the room； still giggling when he went out the door。 In spite of everything； Beav was glad to hear that sound。 It had already been a bad year for Jonesy； getting run over the way he had … for awhile there at first they'd all thought he was going to step out； and that was awful； poor old Jonesy wasn't yet thirty…eight。 Bad year for Pete； who'd been drinking too much； a bad year for Henry； who sometimes got a spooky absence about him that Beav didn't understand and didn't like 。 。 。 and now he guessed you could say it had been a bad year for Beaver Clarendon； as well。 Of course this was only one day in three hundred and sixty…five； but you just didn't get up in the morning thinking that by afternoon there'd be a dead guy laying naked in the tub and you'd be sitting on a closed toilet seat in order to keep something you hadn't even seen from…
'Nope；' Beaver said。 'Not going there； okay？ Just not going there。'
And he didn't have to。 Jonesy would be back with the friction tape in a minute or two； three minutes tops。 The question was where did he want to go until Jonesy returned？ Where could he go and feel good？
Duddits； that was where。 Thinking about Duddits always made him feel good。 And Roberta； thinking about her was good； too。 Undoubtedly。
Beav smiled； remembering the little woman in the yellow dress who'd been standing at the end of her walk on Maple Lane that day。 The smile widened as he remembered how she'd caught sight of them。 She had called her boy that same thing。 She had called him。
3
'Duddits！' she cries； a little graying wren of a woman in a flowered print dress； then runs up the sidewalk toward them。
Duddits has been walking contentedly with his new friends； chattering away six licks to the minute； holding his Scooby…Doo lunchbox in his left hand and Jonesy's hand in his right； swinging it cheerfully back and forth。 His gabble seems to consist almost entirely of open vowel…sounds。 The thing which amazes Beaver the most about it is how much of it he understands。
Now； catching sight of the graying birdie…woman； Duddits lets go of Jonesy's hand and runs toward her； both of them running； and it reminds Beaver of some musical about a bunch of singers； the Von Cripps or Von Crapps or something like that。 'Ah…mee； Ah…mee！' Duddits shouts exuberantly … Mommy！ Mommy！
'Where have you been？ Where have you been； you bad boy； you bad old Duddits！'
They e together and Duddits is so much bigger … two or three inches taller； too … that Beaver winces； expecting the birdie…woman to be flattened the way Coyote is always getting flattened in the Roadrunner cartoons。 Instead； she picks him up and swings him around； his sneakered feet flying out behind him； his mouth stretched halfway up to his ears in an expression of joyful ecstasy。
'I was just about to go in and call the police； you bad old late thing； you bad old late D…'
She sees Beaver and his friends and sets her son down on his feet。 Her smile of relief is gone； she is solemn as she steps toward them over some little girl's hopscotch grid … crude as it is； Beav thinks； even that will always be beyond Duddits。 The tears on her checks gleam in the glow of the sun that has finally broken through。
'Uh…oh；' Pete says。 'We're gonna catch it。'
'Be cool；' Henry says； speaking low and fast。 'Let her rant and then I'll explain。'
But they have misjudged Roberta Cavell … have judged her by the standard of so many adults who seem to view boys their age as guilty until proven innocent。 Roberta Cavell isn't that way； and neither is her husband； Alfie。 The Cavells are different。 Duddits has made them different。
'Boys；' she says again。 'Was he wandering？ Was he lost？ I've been so afraid to let him walk； but he wants so much to be a real boy 。 。 。'
She gives Beaver's fingers a strong squeeze with one hand and Pete's with the other。 Then she drops them； takes Jonesy's and Henry's hands； and gives them the same treatment。
'Ma'am 。 。 。' Henry begins。
Mrs Cavell looks at Henry with fixed concentration； as if she is trying to read his mind。 'Not just lost；' she says。 'Not just wandering。' 'Ma'am Henry tries again； and then gives up any thought of dissembling。 It is Duddits's green gaze looking up at him from her face； only intelligent and aware； keen and questioning。 'No； ma'am。' Henry sighs。 'Not just wandering。'
'Because usually he es right home。 He says he can't get lost because he sees the line。 How many were there？'
'Oh； a few；' Jonesy says； then shoots a swift look at Henry。 Beside them； Duddits has found a last few gone…to…seed dandelions on the neighbors' lawn and is down on his belly； blowing the fluff off them and watching it float away on the breeze。 'A few boys were teasing him； ma'am。'
'Big boys；' Pete says。
Again her eyes search them； from Jonesy to Pete； from Pete to Beaver； and then back to Henry again。 'e up to the house with us；' she says。 'I want to hear all about it。 Duddits has a big glass of ZaRex every afternoon … it's his special drink … but I'll bet you guys would rather have iced tea。 Wouldn't you？'
The three of them look at Henry； who considers and then nods。 'Yes； ma'am； iced tea would be great。'
So she leads them back to the house where they'll spend so much of their time in the following years … the house at 19 Maple Lane … only it is really Duddits who leads the way； prancing； skipping； sometimes lifting his yellow Scooby…Doo lunchbox over his head； but always； Beaver notices； keeping at almost exactly the same place on the sidewalk； about a foot from the grass margin between the walk and the street。 Years later； after the thing with the Rinkenhauer girl； he will consider what Mrs Cavell said。 They all will。 He sees the line。
4
'Jonesy？' Beaver called。
No answer。 Christ； it seemed like Jonesy had been gone a long
time。 Probably hadn't been； but there was no way Beaver could tell； he'd forgotten to put on his watch that morning。 Stupid； but then； he'd always been stupid； he ought to be used to it by now。 Next to Jonesy and Henry； both he and Pete had been stupid。 Not that Jonesy or Henry had ever treated them that way … that was one of the great things about them。
'Jonesy？'
Still nothing。 Probably he was having trouble finding the tape； that was all。
There was a vile little voice far back in Beaver's head telling him that the tape had nothing to do with it； that Jonesy had just gone Powder River； leaving him here to sit on the toilet like Danny Glover in that movie； but he wouldn't listen to that voice because Jonesy would never do anything like that。 They were friends to the end； always had been。
That's right； the vile voice agreed。 You were friends。 And this is the end。
'Jonesy？ You there； man？'
Still nothing。 Maybe the tape had fallen off the nail it had been hung on。
Nothing from beneath him； either。 And hey； it really wasn't possible that McCarthy had shit some kind of monster into the john； was it？ That he'd given birth to … Gasp！ … The Beast in the Bowl？ It sounded like a horror…movie spoof on Saturday Night Live。 And even if that had happened； The Beast in the Bowl had probably drowned by now； drowned or gone deep。 A line from a story suddenly occurred to him； one they'd read to Duddits … taking turns； and it was good there were four of them because when Duddits liked something he never got tired of it。
'Eee doool！' Duddits would shout； running to one of them with the book held high over his head； the way he'd carried his lunchbox home that first day。 'Eee doool； eee doool！' Which in this case meant Read Pool！ Read Pool！ The book was McElligot's Pool； by Dr。 Seuss； the first memorable couplet of which went； 'Young man；' （argued the farmer） 'You're sort of a fool！ You'll never catch fish in McElligot's Pool！' But there had been fish； at least in the imagination of the little boy in the story。 Plenty of fish。 Big fish。
No splashes from beneath him； though。 No bumps on the underside of the lid； either。 Not for awhile now。 He could maybe risk one quick look； just raise the lid a little and slam it back down if anything…
But sit tight； buddy was the last thing Jonesy had said to him； and that was what he'd better do。
Jonesy's most likely a mile down the road by now； the vile v