The next thing he knew he was surrounded by his family. His mother was bathing his face with a rag. “Drink a little bit,” she said, lifting a cup to his lips. He did, and coughed a lot. Then he was able to drink a lot of the icy cold water which had never tasted better. “Didn't you drink anything today?”
Logan thought for a moment and realized, with the cousins coming and all, he had forgotten to have breakfast. Then there was the fight and, well, he never had. He shook his head.
“The yurt was still all closed up and you didn't turn on the fan, and with you sitting in the sun spot, “His mother's voice was very serious, “this place was like an oven.” Then she broke down and sobbed into her hand. She looked up at the other parents. “That was close.”
Paul
“Oh man, Logan, the adults are always watching us since you went by yourself.” Lucien flopped on the floor like a deflated basketball. “No one can do anything.”
“I said I was sorry,” Logan reminded him. Then he looked at his brother pointedly. “You didn't.”
Ignoring this Lucien continued to whine. “It's just that I wanted to meet one of the New Testament people-- John, or maybe Paul.”
“Or Peter,” Lily chimed in. “He was the first pope.”
“It's not fayow!” Molly said. “But even if they aow watching, we could go on a shoat one.”
“Okay,” Lily had been looking through the small window saints, who were mostly Apostles-- Christians chosen by Jesus, Himself. “This one looks fun. Hang on.” She read and the children began to spin.