What's in there"? I asked Tommy, pointing to the shed.

"Oh, just a bunch of stuff Dad keeps for the onions.....fertilizer an' spray.....stuff like that" he answered.

Out of curiosity I'd already opened the door and peeked inside. "Wow! This is neat! Look at all the cans of stuff in here!" I said, getting excited. "Hey! I know what this is! It's what ya' use to spray stuff with! See, ya' just pump it up with this here handle then ya' squeeze the trigger on this wand thingamajiggy like this!

I don't think I intentionally meant to spray Tommy that morning. The wand was just accidently pointed in his direction when I pressed down on the trigger to show him how it worked. But when a fine mist of something settled over his head and shoulders we both laughed.

"Gimme that!" he shouted, and began to chase me as I drug the heavy container on the ground in an effort to get away, spraying the wand back over my shoulder as I ran.

Oh, it was a good battle! One of us would get doused good and then the other would wrestle the wand away and spray back with unbridled glee. We soon discoverd that by turning the nozzle at the end of the wand we could adjust the spray from a fine mist to an actual stream that shot out twenty or thirty feet. This was good, since we didn't need to be close to the other guy to get him good and wet any more. It was just like a gigantic squirt gun, and we were soon chasing each other up and down the rows of onions, laughing and shouting as we played.


"Hey! Your face looks funny!" Tommy said as we took a break from our fun. "It's gettin' kinda' red.....an' your eyes are all puffy, too!"

I'd noticed I was having trouble seeing but thought it was due to the dust we'd been kicking up. But now, as I looked at Tommy through what were becoming mere slits in my eyelids, I began to wonder if it was just the dust.....his face was looking mighty peculiar also.

"Yeah! Yours too! I wonder what's goin' on anyway?" I said as I peered at him. "Hey! Wait a minute! Ya don't suppose that stuff in the sprayer is doin' this to us do ya"?

"I dunno," Tommy said weakly, "but I don't think I feel very good. I think we better get to the house."

Well, by the time we reached his house we were both nearly blind as bats. It was only by sheer luck that we were able to find the front door, knocking frantically for Aunt Mae to unlock it.

"Tommy!" we heard her yelling through the door as she fumbled with the lock, "I've told you a hundred times to use the back door! Now what's so important that you boys...........Ahhhhhhhhhhgggghhhhhhh!!!! OH MY GOD!! OH MY GOD!! WHAT HAVE YOU BOYS DONE TO YOURSELVES!!" she screamed as she swung the door open.

"Wahhh vofffufff ruhhhhgh sphhhuuuurrbbuhhh!" Tommy replied through cantalope lips.

It was 9:08. We been out of Aunt Mae's hair for eight minutes.


The memories I have of rest of that day are all jumbled. I recall panicked, worried voices, unseen yet somehow familiar, and a burning sensation all over my body. I also recall that I lost any modesty I may have harbored.

The first thing Aunt Mae did was strip away our clothing (we later learned she burned every shread of it) and lead us to the bathroom, guiding us none too gently into a bathtub full of hot soapy water.

Then she scrubbed on us like crazy with something we later swore was an SOS pad, although Aunt Mae said it was only a sponge. After that she patted us dry with a gunny sack which she referred to as a soft towel, then led us straight to her bedroom and ordered us to lie on our back and not move.

Then she called Uncle Bill and my Mom....and a couple dozen other grown-ups....asking for help.

Two hours later we still couldn't see squat, but the bedroom was filled with the sounds of people, all talking at once and shouting out loud exclamations about how stupid me an' Tommy had been. And even though the room was crowded Aunt Mae still forced us to lie, buck naked, on our backs while who knows who looked down upon our red, rash covered bodies, shaking their heads in dis-belief.

Finally someone suggested rubbing some sort of lotion, maybe Calamine, on our rashes to ease the itching. The suggestion was immediately acted up on by at least a dozen hands. And that lotion was rubbed ALL over us.

If Tommy and I could have spoken coherent words I'm reasonably sure we'd of vigorously objected. As it was, though, all we could do was instinctively tighten whatever muscle group that was being explored by somebody's hand's and moan "Arrrrghhhh!" as we squirmed around on the bed.

It only took a couple days for the rash to subside to the point where we could wear our underwear again. A day or two after that we were back to wearing normal clothing. Our eyes had started to re-open, too, and every once in a while someone would actually understand what we were trying to tell them.

And now that everyone was reasonably sure we weren't going to die after all we had fewer visitors dropping by to see how we were doing. Tommy and I never did find out for sure who all was there in the bedroom on that day. And that's probably just as well. It would have been hard just being around certain people knowing they had seen, or touched, parts of us that no one besides ourselves had seen or touched in a long, long, time. Since we were babies, in fact!

In a little more than two weeks Aunt Mae had started letting us out of her sight again, sometimes for as long as ten minutes. Uncle Bill had installed two padlocks on the spray shed door and boarded up it's window. I think he really felt bad about our suffering because he had a hard time talking to us. Every time he tried his nostrils would flare out and he'd end up biting down on his lower lip until it bled. Finally he'd hit his forehead with the palm of his hand then spin around and walk away without saying a word.

Uncle Bill always had a hard time expressing love and concern with words alone, but me and Tommy knew he was really worried about us.

By the time we were nearly fully re-covered from the incident we'd almost forgotten it'd ever happened. One morning, near the middle of August, we stepped out of the back door again, just like in the old days.

"Gonna' be another hot day." Tommy observed matter of factly.

"Yep!" I agreed. "Sure is. What ya' wanna' do?"

Tommy pursed his lips and looked around the yard. "Oh, I dunno', ya' wanna' go see if there's any sparrows in our sparrow trap?"