Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Company belong to JK Rowling. No money was made writing this bit of fiction.
Pairing: Marion/John, Damon
Rating: PG
Summary: As Damon gets older, he grows in his magic, exponentially, and it scares his parents.
Warnings: Mentions of war, government wariness, drug use
AN: Set Fall 1941, Damon is fifteen and John's just home, retired from The Marine Corps. Also at this time, from our research, it was found to be a common practice for physicians to prescribe a sedative to women to help control their 'hysterics'. These are the pills of Marion's that she takes.
Cat's In The Cradle
Damon came inside the house and slung his book satchel on the kitchen table. "Mama! I'm home!" He lifted the tea towel that covered the pail of milk on the counter and drew his finger through the cream on the top, sucking the thick buttery coloured substance off loudly. He did it again then shook the pail, stirring it and hiding the fact he'd messed with the milk then covered it. "What can I have to eat? I'm starved!"
He began to open and close the cupboard doors, searching for something to eat as he waited for his mother to appear. "MOM! I've got homework too if you want me to do chores!" he bellowed as he slammed another door, not finding anything to his liking. Marion appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, a piece of embroidery in her hands. "Lands Damon, can you make any more commotion?" she asked, coming into the room and setting her work on the table. "How about a sandwich? We have some of that ham left from last night."
Damon turned and nodded, smiling widely at her. "I can try Mom, if you want me too." He sat down at the table and pulled his satchel to him. "A sandwich would be good, can I have two? Where's Da and how long do I have before he gets home? I have a mess of Transfiguration homework and I want to get my chores done so he has nothing to yell about."
Marion rolled her eyes as she took a loaf of fresh bread from the bread box and began to cut thick slices from it for her teenaged son. Merlin only knew how she and her husband kept the young man in food these days.
"Get me the ham from the icebox Damon. Your Daddy went down to check on the part for the tractor, so he'll be home in a little while," she said as she looked over at her tow headed boy and smiled. Damon and John had been butting heads more over the past couple of years; John simply telling her that it was the boy learning to be a man. Merlin save her from the testosterone filled air around there some days.
"What chores did Daddy leave for you on your list?" she asked as she took the platter of ham from Damon and began to make several thick sandwiches.
Damon drew his wand and Summoned the list of chores from his bedroom. "Feed the animals in the barn, muck the stalls, and move a few bales of hay down from the loft." He looked up at his mother and grinned. "Help you with whatever else you need me to do and my homework."
Finishing up and putting the bread and ham away, Marion handed her son a plate with three thick sandwiches on it. "Go on up to your room Damon and study. Let me see to some of this. Your daddy has to understand that your schooling comes before anything else," she said giving him a gentle push.
Damon stood and took the plate, kissing his mother's cheek. "Thanks, Mama." He looked down at her for a moment. "Won't take me long, I promise. You leave the barn to me though; I don't want Da yelling at you." He shouldered his books and lopped out of the kitchen, already shoving one of the sandwiches in his mouth.
Smiling to herself as she watched her boy run out of the kitchen, she untied her apron and then stepped into her old rubber muck boots that stood by the back door. Stepping out into the fall afternoon, she smiled to herself as she listened to the quiet sounds of farm life around her.
It didn't take her long to feed the two milk cows, the work horses and the barnyard fowl, a flick of her wand had several bales of hay down from the loft and neatly stacked in the feed room. Marion decided she'd leave the stalls for her son, after all, Damon did need to do something to pay for his keep around there.
Damon tossed his bag on his bed and set the sandwiches down on his nightstand before flopping on the bed. He pulled out his Transfiguration book and flipped to the chapter to begin reading. He leaned his head on hand and twirled his wand in the other reading softly aloud.
While difficult, the Animagus transformation can be done if the witch or wizard is of the right mind and power. An Animagus is a witch or wizard who has the ability to transfigure herself or himself into an animal at will while retaining her/his mental powers, such as the ability to think as a human. Consequently, those who can master this Transfiguration are quite rare in the Wizarding world.
Damon snorted and shook his head. If it was a matter of will then it sounded fairly easy to him. If you wanted something bad enough then you could achieve it. Any fool could see that. He sat up and continued reading, still fingering his wand, running it around and though his fingers carelessly as his eyes sped over the words in the book.
Once learned, the Animagus Transformation can be performed wandlessly and at will by the witch or wizard, the change going seamlessly from human to animal form without hesitation on the mage's part. There is no one spell that determines ones animagus form but the power, desire and drive of the witch or wizard that determines success.
Damon rolled his eyes at the text and closed the book, thinking slightly about the words and the meanings. 'So, if I really wanted this, wanted to change and desired it, it would be possible.' He squeezed his wand tightly in his hand and thought about how amazing it would be to change into... what? What would he be? Something fierce and large to protect his family? A bear maybe? A big old black bear lazing in the sun eating on the berries and swimming in the creek. Sounded like fun to him. He snorted and laughed slightly. A wolf maybe to play off his name? Wouldn't that be ironic?
Damon grinned and closed his eyes, concentrating on feeling the magic inside of him. He felt it flowing through his limbs and settling into his hand. He loosened his grip on his wand, remembering what the book said about the wizard being able to do the transformation wandlessly.
The rowan wood suddenly felt hot in his hand and he gasped, a strange sound coming from his mouth as the world seemed to contract and shrink in on him. Dropping his wand as it burned his palm, he yelped and it sounded funny to his ears. He opened his mouth again but no sound came forth and he tried again, panicking slightly now because the heat sensation was moving up his body and engulfing him. This time, he screamed out loudly as the world greyed around him. "Merow!"
Down in the kitchen, Marion was checking the stew she was cooking for supper, the fresh bread cooling on the window sill while she waited on John to get home. She'd not heard a peep from Damon since she'd sent him up to do his homework and wondered if the boy hadn't decided on a nap.
Wiping her hands off on her apron as she climbed the stairs to the second floor, Marion raised an eyebrow when she heard what sounded like rustling in her son's room. "Damon what are you up to? Did you get your school work done?" she asked as she pushed the bedroom door and peeked in.
"Damon?" she said, frowning when she didn't see her lanky boy anywhere, but a juvenile ginger haired tom cat tied up in the sash to Damon's robe.
Damon looked up as the door to his bedroom opened. Stretching and arching his back he turned his head, "Meow?" He froze and looked up at the very tall woman standing over him.
"How did you get in here?" Marion asked as she bent down to scoop up the cat. "You're going right back out to the barn where you belong. Did Damon let you in here? He knows better than that."
Standing back up with the cat in her arms, she looked around and frowned. Where was that boy? She was going to tan his hide if he'd crawled out the window to go run all over the mountain with Seth.
"Meow!" Damon struggled in his mother's arms as she held on to him. What was going on and why was he a cat? He growled and hissed at her, folding his ears down but not wanting to hurt her, after all she was his mother.
Marion quickly snatched the cat back by the ruff of his neck and held him out from her to avoid the little claws. "I think it's time you find a new barn," she hissed as she eyed the little cat, deciding to put it in a box and have John haul it off when he got home. She wasn't going to have a barn cat that scratched her. "Let's go find a box for you to take a ride in."
Damon froze. He closed his eyes, concentrating on his magic trying to get back to his real self. He felt the magic swell and opened his eyes, meowing frantically. The magic sank back down in side of him and he quieted, looking up at her, his tail swishing lazily as he hung from her hand. "Mew."
"Hush you, I'm not hurting you any," Marion murmured as she struggled to keep her grip on the squirming cat and then frowned once more as the cat simply went docile in her hand. "Are you a smart little puss? You act like you can understand me."
Taking a chance, she brought the cat back to rest in her arms and gave it a scratch under its chin. "You are a handsome little man, aren't you?" she cooed. None of the men were in the house, so she felt free to coddle and coo all she liked without John's snorts and Damon's eye rolls. Sitting down on the edge of Damon's bed, she began to pet the animal while murmuring nonsense to it.
Damon wanted to roll his eyes at his mother but her fingernails felt too good. Oh yes, right there. Instead, he stretched his neck back allowing her to scratch his throat. He stood up on her lap, nudging her hand with his head and oh dear gods, was that sound coming from him. It was, Merlin, he was purring. He rubbed his face against her chest, purring loudly as he walked across her lap, rubbing up against her as she petted him. He sat down on her and looked up at her, blinking blue eyes rapidly and swatted at her hands, lightly. "Merow!"
Leaning back on the bed, Marion let her fingers trail over the quilt, smiling to herself as she played with the cat. "I used to have a kitty just like you when I was a little girl," she said as she scooped up the cat in her arms once more and held it close to her cheek.
After a few more minutes of playing with the cat, she looked around once more and frowned as she noticed Damon's wand lying on one of his pillows. "Now what is that doing there? I know that child is harder to part from his wand than he is from his comic books," she said as she took the slim length between her fingers thoughtfully.
Damon rubbed his face against his mother's then placed his paw on his wand when she picked it up. He looked up at her and closed his eyes, once more trying to change back, willing himself to be human again. He felt the magic fill him then it subsided and he growled softly, biting at his wand in frustration.
"That's not a toy, you little scamp," she scolded as she scooped up the cat again and then stopped, her fingers moving slowly over the cat's right hind leg. There was a knot along the bone. Almost as if the cat had had a broken leg... in the same place Damon had broken his right leg when he'd fallen out of the hay loft when he was ten.
Eyes opening wide in surprise, she held the cat up and peered into its face. Yes, the little eyes were the same brilliant blue as Damon's. "Merlin," she breathed as she looked around and spotted her son's school book. Picking it up, she read a little way down the page and then looked at the cat again.
"Damon, what on earth have you gotten yourself into now?" she asked, shaken because if this were her son, he should have changed back by now.
Damon stared back at her then reached out with his paws and touched her face. He leaned in and licked her nose with his scratchy tongue. "Mew." Looking down at the book and his wand for a moment then back at her, he swished his tail and gave her a cat like grin as he licked his lips. "Merow."
Setting the cat on the floor, Marion stood, whipping her wand from her pocket and began to fire off spells to turn her son back. Thirty minutes later, upset and frustrated, she sat back down on the bed and wiped a tear from her cheek.
"I can't fix you, Damon."
Dazed from the onslaught of spells, Damon wobbled over to her and wound himself around her feet, rubbing his face against her ankles. He sat down on his haunches, tail curling about him and looked up at her, "Meow." He raised one paw and licked it then washed his face for a moment. He jumped up into her lap, placing his paws on her chest and looking up at her face. Purring loudly, he licked at her tears.
Standing up, Marion cradled her son to her chest and went downstairs, stopping in the kitchen for one of her little white pills before going back into the living room to wait for her husband to come home.
Picking up her knitting, she frowned as Damon began to eye her ball of yarn with predatory intent. "Don't you dare Damon Nolan, I'll take a switch to you, cat or not," she said as she found a small ball of leftover yarn from a different project and tossed it to the floor for him. "There, now entertain yourself."
Damon watched the ball of yarn roll across the floor trying to resist the urge to follow it. He looked back at his mother and the twitching ball in her lap then the still ball on the floor. He contemplated his options a moment longer then made his decision. Turning, he stalked the small ball, jumping on the still prey and hissing loudly as he tumbled over it rolling on to his back, tangling himself into the yarn, snarling and biting at the strands.
Laughing at her son's antics and her own knitting forgotten, Marion didn't notice when the kitchen door opened and her husband walked into the house.
John set the box of tractor parts on the kitchen table and looked into the pot of stew on the stove. He inhaled the delicious scents and rubbed his stomach as he dipped the spoon into the pot, fishing out a chunk of beef. He popped the meat into his mouth and tossed the spoon into the sink, then walking into the living room coming to a halt as he spied the small cat in the floor and his wife knitting on the sofa. "Marion, why is that furball in the house and where is Damon?"
Marion looked up at her husband, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as she got to her feet. "John, don't get upset, alright?" she began as she placed a hand on his broad chest, "but there's been a little accident. That cat is Damon."
John arched an eyebrow as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. He looked down at the little cat then back at his wife. "Marion, is this one of his and that Seth's pranks? I'm going to tan his hide if he's been skipping out on his chores all afternoon."
Marion shook her head. "No, it's not a prank. He was doing his homework in Transfiguration... they're studying animagus forms and I found him like this."
John looked down at the cat then back at his wife. "No, honey. He couldn't do this. I can't even do the Animagus transformation. It's extremely difficult to do; no fifteen year old boy could do this. Did you try to reverse the spell?"
"Of course I tried!" she said, her voice getting shrill as she snatched the cat up and thrust it at her husband. "He's got a break in his leg just like Damon's and look at his eyes John. That's our boy."
John took the cat by the scruff of its neck and looked at it. The gingery kitten was a tom, so the boys had at least gotten that part right, he felt along the right leg looking for the break like Marion had mention, narrowing his eyes as he felt the knot in the bone. He raised the cat up and looked into the blue, blue eyes. Shaking his head when the cat hissed at him, John set him down on the floor. "You still have to do you chores whenever I get you back, you little heathen. Marion, go get me the book and my wand and I'll see what I can do."
Hurrying up to Damon's room, Marion quickly returned with the book and her son's wand as well as her husband's. Sitting back down nervously, she picked up the cat and began to stroke its back.
"What if you can't fix this John? What will we tell people?"
John watched his wife and the cat for a moment as he put on his glasses, opening Damon's school book to read. "It's been a few years since I've dealt with this type of transfiguration but I think I should be able to force him back into shape." He eyed his son for a moment as he flipped through the pages. "I'm not certain we should tell anyone that he can do this. If I can't change him back just yet, he may have to stay like that until I figure it out."
He looked at his son. "That'll teach you not to go sticking your nose into spells you ought not to be doing just yet."
Marion frowned as she looked at her husband. "John, it's part of his class work, how can you say he shouldn't be doing it?" she asked reproachfully.
John looked at his wife over his spectacles. "Somehow I sincerely doubt that the Transfiguration master wanted them to change as homework. Marion, it's not even something we're taught in the Corps except how to force someone out from their forms. That I can do." He closed the book and picked up his wand, looking down at his son. "Be very still, Damon."
Marion grabbed John's arm, a worried expression on her face as she looked down at their son who was looking back up at them.
"John... it won't hurt him, will it?" she asked softly, not wanting to see her son in pain, worried that if her husband was about to use something he'd learned in the military, that it couldn't be good.
John lowered his wand and looked at his son then to his wife. "Marion... you might want to go wait in the kitchen." He shook his head and bent, picking up the cat by the scuff of its neck. "Stay in the house, Marion."
Walking out the front door, John set the cat on the ground and looked down at it. "Dammit boy, you got your ass in this predicament, now you can get yourself out. Change back."
Damon looked up at him, shaking his head then walked over to John, weaving in and out of his legs, rubbing up against him. He sat down again and licked his paws then looked up at John once more. "Meow."
Looking back to the house to make sure Marion wasn't coming out, John squatted down and looked at the cat. "Damon, boy, if that really is you, change back. You hear me? I don't know how bad it's going to be if I have to do it," he said softly, reluctant to use spells he'd been trained to use against enemies of his country.
Damon stood and rubbed his head against his father's large hands, not knowing how to tell him he didn't know how to change back, considering he didn't know how he changed in the first place. He sat back down and looked at him, blinking lazily then licked his hand. "Mrrrow."
"Goddammit boy," John muttered, rubbing his hand over the back of Damon's skull. "Hold on."
John stood, drawing his strength as he concentrated a moment before levelling his wand at his son and uttered a short string of guttural sounding words.
Damon went ridged under his father's spell as the blue-white light surrounded him. He groaned as he felt his body begin to twist as the magic tried to force him back into his human form.
Blanching, John kept his hand steady and his wand trained on his son, recasting the spell. "Come on Damon, you can do it boy, don't fight it," he muttered, feeling like he was about to puke watching what looked to be pure torture taking place in front of him.
There was another flash of light and Damon gasped as he was forced from the form suddenly, his head and legs seeming to grow rapidly as he lay on the ground, panting. He looked up at his father and nodded then laid back down, closing his eyes and trying to calm his breathing and the shaking of his body. "Thanks, Da."
Quickly lowering his wand, John stepped forward and knelt down, pulling Damon into a tight hug. "Don't ever do that again boy, never, you hear me?" he murmured, hugging his son fiercely. "Are you alright?"
Taking a deep breath, Damon nodded. "I didn't do it on purpose," he murmured. "I was just doing my home work and reading. I thought it would be interesting if I could..." he trailed off as he felt the same feeling well up inside of him. "Oh!" The magic washed over him and he shrunk down again, blinking rapidly up at his father, once more in the feline form. "Meow."
John gasped and looked down at his son in horror. "Damon... I want you to concentrate on being you again, just think it through. I don't want to use that spell on you again unless I have to," he said as he fingered his wand nervously. "Just think it through."
Damon looked at his father, crooking his head to the side. He closed his eyes and thought about what his father said, thinking about himself once more and the feeling of the magic that had tingled through his body before he had changed. He felt it and grabbed hold of it, gasping as he felt the bones shift on their own this time. He shook his head and looked up at his father, grinning at him.
"How'd I do?" Knowing he'd made it even though something didn't feel quite right entirely but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
John looked at his son and chuckled at the sight of the tall boy sprawled on the grass, a long ginger coloured tail twitching behind him. "It's close son."
Damon grinned and closed his eyes, switching back to the feline and pranced around his father's feet then bolted for the house, running inside. "Mrrrow!"
Marion looked down at the small cat that darted between her feet and covered her face with her hands. "Oh Merlin, Damon what are we going to do?" she said softly as she bent down to pick him up. "I've lost my baby."
Damon purred and rubbed his face against her legs, winding in and out of her feet, scooting just out of her grasp as she tried to pick him up. He pawed at the cabinet and looked back at her. "Mrrrow."
"What is it baby?" she asked as she went to the cabinet and looked at the countertop. There sat the pail of milk separating. "Did you want some cream Damon?"
As she went to set a small saucer of thick cream down for him, John walked in the door and scowled.
"Marion, don't you give that to him, that little scamp can change back," he said as he picked up the broom from the corner and swatted Damon's rump. "Stop scarin' your mama, boy."
Damon jumped out of the way and hissed at his father. Batting at the broom's bristles with his paws and rising up on his hind legs to swing at the broom, he growled, laying his ears back flat on his head. He settled back down and walked away, eyeing his father wearily then looked at his mother. "Merow."
John looked at his son and then at his wife, taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and grabbed Damon by the scruff of his neck, bringing him up close to his face.
"I'm serious Damon, stop scaring your mother," he said softly as he looked into the blue eyes before setting the cat back on the floor and turning to his wife.
"It's alright Mother," he said gently as he patted her shoulder.
Damon looked at the two of them, watching them for a moment then closed his eyes, changing back to his human self slowly. He stood up from the floor, hands behind his back and head hung, not looking at either one of them. "Mama? I'm all right."
Marion looked at her son, caught between the urge to slap a knot upside his head and to hug him to pieces. "Good," she said carefully and then stroked his face. "Don't do that in front of people Damon, you're Daddy's right, you shouldn't be able to do that yet. Not this easily."
"Yes Ma'am," Damon murmured and reached up to rub his hair. "It's not really easy. I really couldn't get out the first time. Da had to help me."
Marion looked from Damon to John and then nodded. "Don't do it any more Damon, at least not when your Daddy's not here."
John looked at his son and cleared his throat softly. "I think that in your best interest, at least for the time being, you don't know how to do that Damon, do you understand?" he said neutrally, not wanting the boy to give him a hard time. It was the beginning's of the countries involvement in World War II and John well knew that the animagus ability was sought after by their government.
Damon stared at him. "But this is a good thing. I can get extra credit in class for this and go off to school somewhere with this. It's my way out of here."
"Come talk to me outside Damon, help me with the tractor," John said softly as he picked up his box of parts from the table and nodded to his son. "Marion, we'll be back in shortly. That stew surely does smell good."
The older man walked past Damon and then waited for him at the door. "Damon."
"No," Damon said softly. "I don't want to talk about this outside. I don't want to hear about how you've apprenticed me to old man Roberts. I'm staying in school like you asked but don't stop me from advancing now that I'm there."
"This isn't about that son, now come along. I'd like to talk to you man to man," John said as he eyed his fifteen year old young man.
Damon pursed his lips and looked at his mother. Taking a deep breath, he nodded and followed his father outside, but kept his distance from the other man.
John stopped as he got to tractor, setting the box of parts on the seat before he turned to his boy.
"Damon, you need to be careful about who knows what you can do. I don't want you taken away from us to be a tool," John said, looking into his boy's eyes and hoping he understood.
Damon dug in the ground with the toe of his boot. "But I don't want to stay here and work in the coal mines or build houses. This is a good thing Da, isn't it? It means I'm smart. I'm not just some mountain hillbilly."
"Damon, you are never going to be just some mountain hillbilly," John said, picking up a greasy shop rag and toying with the hem. "You're damned smart boy, always have been, but you don't want the wrong people to know you can do this."
Damon bit his lip as he thought about what his father said. "So what's wrong with telling the schoolmaster, then? She'll like it and I'll get good marks. Mom thought I was cute."
"If you tell your teacher, it's going to be in your records Damon," John said, hating to see the fact he was hurting his boy by telling him to play dumb. "Animagus stuff has to be reported to the government Damon, do you understand?"
Damon crossed his arms over his chest. "So. What are they going to do to me? You keep telling me I'm only fifteen. They can't do nothing to me anyway. So what does it matter if I tell her?"
John turned away and thought about the little boy he'd seen back in '23, the kid couldn't have been more than twelve, but the government had stepped in and taken him from his family using the excuse of national defence. The last he'd heard, the boy had changed into his animal form of a mouse one night and drowned himself in the toilet to get away.
"They'd take you Damon," he said softly, shaking his head trying to dislodge the image of a crying child sitting alone on a metal bunk. "Use you to do things."
Damon looked up at his father, curiously. "Take me? Take me where? To do what kinds of things?"
"The military would take you Damon. I don't want to see that happen to you."
Damon glared at him. "I don't believe you. You're just telling me that so I'll stay here like you want. One of them boogieman stories to scare kids into being good."
John shook his head and sighed. "I'll set you up with money to get away from here when you're out of school if you keep your mouth shut about this Damon. Wherever you want to go, you never have to look back," he said, hoping his son would take the offer and stay safe.
Damon stared at him for a moment. "I don't understand; you want me to leave? Make up your mind. You're confusing me and not making any sense." He bit his lip as he looked at his father and looked back up at the house before returning his eyes to his father once more.
John looked his son in the eye. "I'll do whatever I have to in order to make sure you're safe and if sending you away is what it takes to do it, then, that's what I'll do. You don't want to know what the military will do to you and I don't want your mama to know either," he said and then turned to the box of parts.
Damon watched his father for a moment. "I want to know what the military will do to me. It's got to be better than sticking around here and dying in the coal mines."
John shuddered, staring down into the box. "There was a boy at one of the bases I was stationed on before you were born. Maybe eleven or twelve, maybe. He told people he could change into an animal and it wasn't a couple of weeks before the government turned up and had taken him away from his family."
Taking pieces of a carburettor from the box, John looked at it this way and that before he continued. "The boy could turn into a mouse. Someone got it in their fool head that he could be used on covert operations to gather information or deliver poison. A boy still wet behind the ears doing a job a grown man should have been doing, if it needed to be done at all. The boy was kept in what amounted to be no more than a cage, a cage a mouse couldn't escape. Drowned hisself one night soon after."
Damon stared at his father. Part of him wondering if the story was true and another part excited at the possibilities. It sounded like one of the stories on the wireless and he swallowed hard. "You're making that up to scare me," he whispered softly.
"I wish I were son," he said with a heavy sigh, the sounds of the boy's crying still haunted him at night. "He wasn't the only one. I don't want that to happen to you."
Damon thought about that for a moment. "Then what am I supposed to do at school tomorrow?" he asked softly. "We are supposed to try and transform tonight for homework and write about what happened. Miss Brandybuck can change into a doe and we're all supposed to try it tomorrow in class."
"I need you to go with me down to Charleston tomorrow," John said with a nod. That would do, he'd keep the boy out tomorrow and then go have a chat with the teacher. His boy wasn't going to be picked up by some sharp-nosed G-man.
Damon looked down at the ground. "Yessir. I'll just do my chores now if you're done talking with me."
"Looked like you got most of them done before you managed to get furry," John snorted and then dropped the part he was looking at back into the box.
"Damon... boy, you don't know how proud I am of you for how well you can do magic, I just don't want someone to take what you can do and turn it to ugliness. Why don't you see if you can help me get this cussed thing to run again."
Damon nodded and didn't say anything about his chores, knowing his mother had done them for him. He continued to mull over everything his father said as he answered him. "Yessir. Do you want me to go tell mama to keep supper under a charm?"
"That's right, she's about got it done. Let's go on in and we'll mess with this in the morning before we leave," John said as he looked disgustedly at the tractor. "One of these days I'm going to buy a new one, send this one down over the hill."
Damon grinned as he looked at the tractor then up to the house. "Sure you will, as soon as mama lets you."
John made a hissing noise and grunted in laughter. "One of these days son, you'll know what it's like to have a woman running the show," he said, clapping Damon on the back and then pulling the boy into a hug.