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Her son slept calmly, brown curls lying on the pillow. His breathing was deep and even.

She reached down and shook him gently by the shoulders. “Andy! Wake up!”

“Wha…” He groaned. He didn’t even open his eyes. He went back to sleep almost immediately.

“Andy!” Maggie Swanson shook her son’s shoulders harder, more roughly, but not hard enough to hurt him. “Wake up!”

This brought him up. Andy opened his eyes, the deep rhythm of sleep broken. “What!” He sputtered. “What happened? What?”

“Get up and put some clothes on.” She was already pushing the covers off, ushering him out of bed. “Come on.”

“Why?” He yawned, sitting up. He looked at his mother, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

“Because we have to go,” she said. She moved to his dresser and opened the top drawer. She pulled out a pair of blue Levis and a striped polo shirt. She laid these items on the foot of the bed, went back to the same dresser and from another drawer brought out a clean pair of underwear and socks. She dropped these at the foot of the bed. “Get dressed. Come on! Let’s go!”

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