'WELL, MAYBE YOUR MOTHER COULD TEACH ME HOW TO SKI. AND YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THE LOG-ROLLING IF YOU DON'T WANT TO, DO YOU?' he asked.
'Well, my cousins kind of make everything happen so fast,' I said. 'You don't always have time to say 'Yes' or 'No' to something.'
'WELL, MAYBE IF YOU ASKED THEM NOT TO BE SO ROUGH WITH ME-UNTIL I GOT USED TO IT,' he said. 'THEY'D LISTEN TO YOU, WOULDN'T THEY?'
I could not imagine it-Owen together with my cousins! It seemed to me that they would be driven insane by the sight of him, and when he spoke-when they first encountered that voice-I could visualize their reaction only in terms of their inventing ways for Owen to be a projectile: they would make him the birdie for a badminton game; they would bind him to a single ski, launch him off the mountaintop, and race him to the bottom. They would make him sit in a salad bowl, and tow him-at high speeds-across Loveless Lake. They would bury him in sawdust and lose him; they'd never find him. Firewater would eat him.
'They're sort of hard to control-my cousins,' I said. 'That's the problem.'
'YOU MAKE THEM SOUND LIKE WILD ANIMALS,' Owen said.
'They are-kind of,' I said.
'BUT YOU HAVE FUN WITH THEM,' Owen said. 'WOULDN'T I HAVE FUN, TOO?'
'I have fun, and I don't have fun,' I told him. 'I just think my cousins might be too much for you.'
'YOU THINK I MIGHT BE TOO MUCH OF A WIMP FOR THEM,' he said.
'I don't think you're a wimp, Owen,' I said.
'BUT YOU THINK YOUR COUSINS WOULD THINK SO?' he said.
'I don't know,' I said.
'MAYBE I COULD MEET THEM AT YOUR HOUSE, WHEN THEY COME FOR THANKSGIVING,' he suggested. 'IT'S FUNNY HOW YOU DON'T INVITE ME OVER WHEN THEY'RE STAYING HERE.'
' 'My grandmother thinks there're too many kids in the house already-when they're here,' I explained, but Owen sulked about it so moodily that I invited him to spend the night, which he always enjoyed. He went through this ritual of calling his father to ask if it was all right, but it was always all right with
Mr. Meany; Owen stayed at Front Street so frequently that he kept a toothbrush in my bathroom, and a pair of pajamas in my closet. And after Dan Needham gave me the armadillo, Owen grew almost as attached to the little animal-and to Dan-as I was. When Owen would sleep in the other twin bed in my room, with the night table between us, we would carefully arrange under the bedside lamp; in exact profile to both of us, the creature stared at the feet of our beds. The night-light, which was attached to one of the legs of the night table, shone upward, illuminating the armadillo's chin and the exposed nostrils of its thin snout. Owen and I would talk until we were drowsy; but in the morning, I always noticed that had been moved -its face was turned more toward Owen than to me; its profile was no longer perfect. And once when I woke up, I saw that Owen was already awake; he was staring back at the armadillo, and he was smiling. After Dan Needham's armadillo came into my life, and the first occasion for me to travel to Sawyer Depot arose, I was not surprised that Owen took this opportunity to express his concern for the armadillo's well-being.
'FROM WHAT YOU TELL ME ABOUT YOUR COUSINS,' Owen said, 'I DON'T THINK YOU SHOULD TAKE TO SAWYER DEPOT.' It had never occurred to me to take with me, but Owen had clearly given some thought to the potential tragedy of such a journey. 'YOU MIGHT FORGET IT ON THE TRAIN,' he said, 'OR THAT DOG OF THEIRS MIGHT CHEW ON IT. WHAT'S THE DOG'S NAME?'
'Firewater,' I said.
'YES, FIREWATER-HE SOUNDS DANGEROUS TO TO ME,' Owen said. 'AND IF YOUR COUSINS ARE THESE RUFFIANS, LIKE YOU SAY, THERE'S NO TELLING WHAT KIND OF GAME THEY MIGHT THINK UP-THEY MIGHT RIP TO PIECES. OR LOSE IT IN THE SNOW.'
'Yes, you're right,' I said.
'IF THEY WANTED TO TAKE WATERSKIING, COULD YOU STOP THEM?' he asked.
'Probably not,' I said.
'THAT'S JUST WHAT I THOUGHT,' he said. 'YOU BETTER NOT TAKE WITH YOU.'
'Right,' I said.
'YOU BETTER LET ME TAKE IT HOME. I CAN LOOK AFTER IT WHILE YOU'RE AWAY- IF IT'S ALL ALONE HERE, ONE OF THE MAIDS MIGHT DO SOMETHING
