At night Junie gets itchy. It starts with her back. Scratch it, will ya? she’ll say to anyone around. Sometimes we all ignore her and go on watching TV. She shimmys her back up and down the door frame. You got fleas, Buster said one night. It was the night Aunt May overcooked the spaghetti. She got into a big fight with Uncle Gil over plum tomatoes or fresh from the garden. By the time that spaghetti hit the table it had turned to mush. Uncle Gil got up and went to a bar. He didn’t say but we all knew. Aunt May sat alone in the kitchen and drank down the red wine decanter. Junie was hopping around trying to get a scratch from someone. Use this, Buster said, handing her a stretched out coat hangar. Just then Aunt May wobbled into the living room. She let out a shriek like a wild bird. We all stopped to look. Even Junie.