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Steve woke up slowly, like a far-off ringing was getting louder and louder - or someone was jumping on his head.
“-vie! Evie! Stevie! Wake up! Stevie, pwease!”
He shot up all at once, causing tiny Steve to tumble down his pillow. “Uh’M’god. You okay?” he slurred.
As little Steve got to his feet on the bed, Steve reached for his bedside lamp. This made him lean over the shoebox room on his dresser…where he heard Billy whimpering.
“Billy? Billy? Hey,” Steve rushed, swiveling between the little one climbing up his pillow and the distraught one in the box. “What’s wrong? Steve, what’s wrong with him?”
He offered his palm for little Steve to get the fast ride back to his room and the feet scampered back to Billy’s side. “Biwwy! I got ‘im, he’s awake! Biwwy?”
Those big brown eyes for such a small guy looked imploringly up at Steve, who struggled more than ever to establish consciousness. Between the time of night and the sudden wake-up after a deep sleep, he was having trouble getting a grip on reality. He breathed, “Billy, baby…what’s up? Bad dream? Hang on, Steve.”