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said.
    I waved at him and backed up another step. “Hi.”
    â€œDon’t run off, youngster,” he said. “You know I like to chat.”
    â€œUh, yeah.” I took another step backwards. But the lawn spray was getting to me. I couldn’t stand up. All of a sudden, I fell to my knees.
    â€œYup,” Mr. Terranova said. “Sure is nice to have a lawn like this. Takes a lot of work, but it’s worth it. Go ahead. Roll around if you want. Enjoy it.”
    â€œThanks,” I said weakly. I started to put my hand down so I could push myself back to my feet. But I realized if I touched the grass with my bare skin, I’d be in even bigger trouble. If just the smell was making me this dizzy, I was afraid to think what would happen if I got the stuff on my skin. So I tried to rock myself up to my feet.
    That turned out to be a real bad idea. I lost my balance and fell on my back.
    â€œHow about you, Bud?” Mr. Terranova asked. “Don’t you want to join your brother? When I was a lad, I loved to roll in the grass. That was before we had all these fancy lawn mowers and riding tractors. Had to push the mowers when I was a boy. Yessiree, push ’em by hand. Let me tell you, that was hard work. Go ahead, boy. Roll around.”
    â€œNo thanks.” Bud stared at me like I was crazy, lying there in the grass on my back.
    â€œHelp me,” I whispered, hoping that for once in his life, Bud would use his brain.
    â€œWhat?” Bud asked. “I can’t hear you when you whisper.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” Mr. Terranova asked. He turned his left ear toward Bud. “Speak up. I can’t hear either of you.”
    I reached out and grabbed the cuff of Bud’s pants. I barely had enough strength to close my fingers.
    â€œStop that, Lud,” he said, yanking his leg from my grip.
    I tried to say something else, but everything got real fuzzy. Then everything faded away.
    Next thing I knew, I was getting hit in the face with a hard stream of water. “Cut it out!”
    â€œYou okay now?” Bud asked. He was standing there with a hose.
    I looked around. We were on the side of our house, next to the driveway. “How’d I get here?”
    â€œI carried you,” Bud said. “It was like that time when you ran headfirst into the side of the house. Knocked you right out. I figured I’d better bring you home.” He looked over his shoulder. “Oh gross—you drooled all over my shirt, too.”
    â€œSorry.”
    â€œThat’s okay. I’m drier than you.” He laughed and sprayed me with the hose again.
    â€œStop that.”
    Bud turned off the nozzle. “Hey, you better wipe yourself off before we go inside. If you get the floor wet, Mom will be real steamed.”
    He was right. So I dried off. But when we got inside, I found out that someone was real angry anyhow. And it wasn’t Mom.

 
    Sixteen
    WHAT WOOD YOU CHEW?
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    The minute I stepped inside, I could hear Dad shouting from upstairs. “Those darn termites! That does it. Lud, get up here. I need you.”
    â€œSounds like work,” Bud said. “Think I’ll go back outside.” He dashed out the door.
    That was okay. I didn’t mind helping Dad. “What’s wrong?” I asked when I got to the top of the stairs.
    â€œLook at this.” He pointed at the door to my room. He was so angry, his hand was shaking.
    â€œOh no.” I looked at the bottom. The wood was all chewed up, like something was eating at it. Man—I knew what had chewed the wood. Me.
    â€œTermites!” Dad said. “I’m gonna get them once and for all. Go grab the sprayer.”
    I went up to the attic and got Dad’s spray can. I figured I’d have to slip out of the house before he started spraying, or I’d be in big trouble. “Maybe you should hold off,” I told him.
    â€œWhy? So they can eat up the rest of the