“Kristian Billiam Doctavio!” pa’s voice reverberated like thunder. I was inside the barn cleanin’ out the stalls when I heard pa’s distinctive call and the fact that he had used my full name meant that I was in trouble. Before I could reply he called for me a second time; only louder this time. “KRISTIAN BILLIAM DOCTAVIO! BOY, YOU DON’T WANT ME TO HAVE TO COME FIND YOU!”

I emerged from the front of the barn and seen that pa was standin’ on the front porch. I shouted back to him, “I’m right here pa!”

“You get yourself in this house right this very minute!” he shouted, opened the screen door and disappeared inside again.

The first thing I thought was that I’d done somethin’ wrong or forgot to do something important but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what I could have done to get him so mad. And then the horrible thought struck me that maybe somethin’ was wrong with ma and the baby! That thought scared me more then the idea that I was in trouble. I ran toward the house and I don’t think I even touched the front steps. I just went from the ground to the porch and then swung the screen open so hard that I nearly broke it off its hinges.

Forgettin’ briefly my first notion that I was in trouble I blurted out, “What’s the matter? Is ma all right? Is the baby all right? Should I call Doc Wilson?”

Pa looked so very infuriated that his nostrils were flarin’ like an angry bull about to charge me down and squash me to death. With a single movement he yanked his belt off and slung it over his left shoulder like a leather whip. My legs felt like they were goin’ to buckle under my weight and instinctively my hands went behind me to protect my bottom. A lump the size of an apple rose in my throat, nearly chokin’ off my air supply.

“Where’s your other shoe?” He snarled.

His expression as much as the question caught me off guard and with the lump in my throat, the best I could do was to make a confused sound at the back of my throat which seemed to make him even angrier.

“Shoe boy, shoe! Where’s your other shoe!” he said pointin’ down at my feet.

Stupid me! I was dumb enough to look around the kitchen as if I expected to find it. When I finally did look down my right shoe was indeed missing. I reasoned that when pa had yelled for me to come into the house I had run so fast that I ran right out of my shoe.

I shrugged my shoulders while he stood there looking down at me, fingerin’ the buckle of his belt and lookin’ at me as if I had been the one to nail our Lord to the cross.

“Pa, what’d I do?” my voice quivered as I fought back my tears and I can’t be sure but I think my heart had stopped beatin’.

It seemed that the floor beneath me shook when he stepped toward me. I backed away from him but the dang kitchen table halted my escape. That didn’t much matter none ’cause pa has always been faster then me. As his big hand came down I turned away from him and he caught me by the back of my diaper, lifted me right off of my feet and held me upside down. You would a thought that pa had started beating on me right then and there the way I screamed my head off. “Pa, pa, pa! Please pa! Please pa! I’m sorry pa!”

I was carryin’ on so much that I didn’t even realize that pa had hauled me into his and ma’s bedroom. However, I figured it out when he dropped me on their bed like I’d done a belly flop off the Clear Creek Trestle into the creak below. My first hint that pa had been messin’ with my head was when I saw ma sittin’ up in bed and smilin’ a big silly grin. It was the first time I’d seen her smile in several days. I still wasn’t sure that I wasn’t in trouble but then pa started to tickle me while asking, “Why were you so scared? What did you do that I don’t know about? I bet you and that new friend of yours, Nugget, have been up to no good! You’ve been up to no good, admit it! Maybe I should whip you just in case?”

I was rolling, kickin’ and flailin’ about tryin’ to get away from him ticklin’ me. “Pa, oh please pa! Stop please pa! Ssssttttooopppp!” I even tried some reverse psychology that they told us about in school. “Pa, I love you and you are the best pa in the whole world!” but that didn’t’ work either.

He finally took hold of my legs and tucked them under his one arm; he then captured my flailin’ arms and held them against my stomach. I was still laughing, though he had stopped ticklin’ me.

“Boy pa! You scare’t me so bad! I thought I done somethin’ wrong!” I said still partly wonderin’ if maybe I was in trouble for something.

“Well that was the idea.” Pa teased.

Ma was still smilin’ when she said, “Your pa and me have been talkin’ about how grownup you are becoming.”

“I growed almost a whole half inch since last time you measured me!” I said tryin’ to wiggle loose from pa’s python-like hold on me.

“Well, we don’t exactly mean taller.” Pa said and tickled my belly again.

I let out a squeal, “Uncle! Uncle!”

When I caught my breath I asked, “How did you mean then?”

Ma looked at pa and smiled wider. I looked up at pa and he was lookin’ at ma the way he does whenever he’s about to say somethin’ mushy.

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” Pa asked her.

“OH NO!” I exclaimed.

“What?” Ma asked looking concerned.

“You are goin’ to have two babies?” I said hopeful disbelief.

“NO!” Pa said very firmly, “The good Lord wouldn’t curse me like that again!”

“Pa!” I complained as I once again tried to worm away from him.

“Oh honey, let him up before you make him hurt his sort bottom.” Ma said.

“It’s ok ma, my bottom ain’t so sore no more.” I assured her.

Pa let me up anyway but he sat on the side of the bed and held me tightly in a backward bear-type hug.

“Well, what then?” I asked and then the thought jumped into my head and burst out of my mouth, “IS Christopher COMIN’ HOME?”

“No! This isn’t about your brother’s or sisters!” Pa said squeezin’ me so tightly and pretendin’ to chew on my ear.

“Pa stop you are goin’ to get your old people germ in my ear!” I joked.

“OLD PEOPLE?” Ma complained and implored pa to, “Squeeze him tighter for me!”

“Pa you are goin’ to squeeze the stuff’n out of me!” I groaned.

“Alright, settle down now!” Pa said.

“I ain’t the one doin’ nothing!” I protested as wiggled my finger in my ear.

“Seein’ how you are getting’ so MATURE,” ma put extra emphasis on that last word.

Pa quickly jumped in with, “I think the word you’re looking for is manure!”

I gave pa an elbow in the gut for that one but not hard, just enough really.

Pa mad an, “Ooph!” sound and then said, “Ok, maybe not.”

Ma just continued like he hadn’t said nothin’. “We have been thinkin’ that you old enough and responsible enough to get your farm license now so that you can be more help to your pa around the farm.”

I couldn’t believe what she just said. Christopher got his farm license when he was twelve which meant he was allowed to drive the farm truck anywhere as long as whatever he was doin’ had somethin’ to do with the farm; like takin’ crops to the market, runnin’ to the feed store or whatever.

The idea hadn’t completely sunk in yet so I asked, “Sooo, I ain’t in trouble?”

“No you are not in trouble!” ma assured me and added, “We just wanted to surprise you.”

I could feel the excitement growing deep down inside of me but I still needed to ask, “So, I can get it? Really?”

“Yes really!” Pa answered and added, “You’ve been so much help to me these past few days. And I even if you weren’t old enough, I expect I would have found another way to reward you for everything you have been doing, not just for me, but your ma and the farm.”

For a moment I felt guilty for my brothers and sisters who had been working just as hard as I was. It must’a showed ’cause pa said, “Now don’t you go fretting none about the other’s.” Pa began, “This is about you and I have something in store for each of them too.”

I looked over at ma, she looked like she was going to bust with pent up excitement for me. I gleanced down at my hands and seen that they were balled up into two tight little balls. I asked again, “Really, Really?”

“Yes really, really!” Ma answered.

Pa released me and I slid off his lap to the floor. I was like a lit stick of dynamite standing there looking from one to the other and then I asked.
“You are not kiddin’ me again are you pa?”

Pa rubbed his chin and made a sound like he was thinking.

“PA!” I groaned with impatient agony.

He laughed. “I am not kiddin’ you!” pa said crossin’ his heart and holdin’ his left hand up.

“Hey, that’s the wrong hand!” I said pointin’ an accusing finger at him.

“Oh!” he said trying to make me think that he didn’t know he was use’n the wrong hand. He switched hands and said, “Honest Ingin!”

I exploded with cheers, “I’M GETTIN’ A LICENSE!!! I’M GETTIN’ A LICENSE!!!” and I began to dance around the room punchin’ my fists triumphantly into the air.

Laughing, pa called out, “Hey, this ain’t no Hoedown! And it isn’t a real license; you’ll have to wait until you’re sixteen to get the real thing.”

That didn’t matter to me. I knew that with a farmer’s license I would be able to drive on the streets, drive in town, just about anywhere, anytime as long as I was doing stuff for pa and the farm. I remember once Christopher saying that is why he always kept a few bails of hay in the back of his truck. Besides giving his friends and us a place to sit, it also was an easy way for him to say that he was just hauling hay, or going to the market for feed or something like that so that he could drive anywhere he wanted anytime he wanted. Yeah, it was sort of like cheating but it was the good kind of cheating.