The original illustration and prints are available.
Woody’s temper never got any better—and the door was never repaired. The marks from Woody’s fists were visible every day at 3 o’clock when the early afternoon sun shone through the window. Johanna had just put blue tape over the marks—Leon never understood why the door hadn’t been replaced with a new one.
As he remembered that dramatic day, Leon squirmed in the cave. Pulling Pinkerton tightly around his body, he wondered: What would Woody have done to me if the lock or the wood had given way?
Leon checked that Grampy’s walking stick still lay beside his right leg, then rested his weary and worried head on the backpack and soon drifted off into a beautiful, colourful, and peaceful dreamland. A place with no drama, and no adults.
