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Show Twisters . . . 87 Arthur scooted closer. "You know what?" he said, lowering his voice. "What?" I answered absently. I was just finishing my last cracker, wondering how long it would take Stacey to go help with that crying baby. I was feeling sorry for the poor mother myself and only half-way paying attention to Arthur when Stacey set her 7-Up down on the tray. "Be back in a minute," she said. "Hey!" Arthur banged on my leg until I turned to face him. "Listen, Dan, this is important." "Yeah?" "You know that bull-roarer I made?" I nodded. "You know what the Hopi Indians believe?" My eyes were back on Stacey. Sure enough, that lady was letting her take the baby. "Dan, I think I caused that tornado," he whispered in a hoarse voice. "What are you talking about?" "The bull-roarerl" "So what about it?" "The Hopi Indians. They won't let their kids play with bull-roarers inside. Not in the spring, leastways. You know that roaring sound they make?" I nodded, "That sound is supposed to bring on the whirlwind-death and destruction and all that. I knew about it, but I swung the bull-roarer anyway. Remember your Aunt Goldie's place? It was ripped apart worse than anybody's. And.maybe . . . maybe it followed her to the bowling alley." "Arthur! Bull-roarers don't cause tornadoes!" He was lots smarter |