Lose mom. Lose Uncle Donald. Lose mom. Lose, lose, lose-

Louie was fighting the urge to take something. Taking things made him feel in control, taking things made him feel like a badass, a word he wasn't allowed to use. And right now he really needed to feel like he was in control. He needed to feel like a badass. Because the alternative was to think about what Tío Panchito had said to Uncle Donald, about Huey being afraid to lose him the way they had lost mom. That wasn't going to happen, right?

The unknowns tormented Louie mercilessly until he finally decided to take action. He could have asked Uncle Donald or Huey what those words had meant, but he didn't want to upset them, not when Huey had been so upset and overwhelmed lately. So his child brain made the only other seemingly sensible decision. The next Monday morning, when they were supposed to start homeschooling, Louie stole Zé's wallet.

He plucked it out, quickly went through it to determine what he could take that wouldn't be missed, and slid a five into the pocket of his frog hoodie. And then he turned on the theatrics.

"Tío José, I found your wallet on the ground."

"Oh, thank you, Louie." Zé was nice, Zé was trusting. Uncle Donald was skeptical.

"Louie, did you take anything?"

"No," Louie said quickly. Uncle Donald and Huey both gave him a look and he squirmed.

"Are you sure?"

"I didn't take anything!" Louie squeaked in anger

"Empty your pocket," Uncle Donald ordered, and Louie felt like he was going to cry.

"Donald, it's okay," José said quickly.

"Stealing is not okay."

"Why don't you trust me?" Louie snapped.

"Louie, I want to trust you, but your reluctance to empty your pocket makes it hard."

Louie slammed his toy car, his glasses that he didn't like wearing, and a breakfast bar on the table.

"There." Glower.

"Is that everything?"

"Yes." Louie was lying, of course. He had the five dollars, and he had one other thing he'd swiped this morning. While his brothers had been getting ready and Uncle Donald had been making breakfast, Louie had snuck into Uncle Donald's room and had taken a photo from a picture frame. The photo had been behind another photo, so it was unlikely that Uncle Donald would find out it was missing, but Louie felt guiltier over stealing the photo than the money.

"Alright, then I'll check your pocket."

"No!" Louie jerked away from Donald's reaching hand, falling down on the ground. He yanked out the five-dollar bill and threw it before Uncle Donald could discover the photo, a picture of Donald and Della from when they were around his age.

"Thank you," Donald said quietly, picking up the money and giving it to José before offering Louie a hand up. Louie ignored him, curling into himself, angry and frightened.

"Louie, I know you're upset but you can't take things that aren't yours. When I get home from work we're going to have a talk."

Louie didn't say anything, but he would have preferred a lecture from Huey to a talk from Uncle Donald.

"Louie?"

"Fine." Louie still didn't look up but he mumbled an apology.

"I'm sorry too. I don't want to fight with you. I love you, Louie. I love all of you. I'll see you later." Donald grabbed his jacket and headed out. The houseboat still rocked underneath them but the rest of the world seemed to hold its breath until Donald left. Then, before he could get a lecture from anyone else, Louie stood up, fast as lightning, and ran to hide in his room.

José and Panchito exchanged a look, but Dewey was the one who stood up.

"I'll handle it. Louie looks up to me." Dewey didn't want to make Huey's life harder right now, so he was going to try to step up as a big brother.

Huey smiled at Dewey and nodded, whispering, "Be gentle, okay?"

Dewey nodded.

Louie was hiding in the closet when Dewey came in. Dewey knew where to find him right away, biding his time until he knocked on the door.

"Go away, Huey."

"Guess again."

"Oh. What are you doing here?"

"I was gonna tell you that if you'd needed five dollars you could have asked me."

Louie snorted, "You don't have money, you're eleven."

"You don't know everything about me, Lou."

"I didn't need the five dollars," Louie said quietly.

"You didn't go about it the right way but I don't think it's wrong to want to have money."

"I didn't want it either, I just… Needed to take something."

"Why?" Dewey asked.

"I needed to feel in control of something. But now Uncle Donald is mad at me and-" Louie stopped talking and Dewey realized a moment later that he could hear crying from the closet. He swung the door open and sat next to Louie, wrapping an arm around his little brother.

"Uncle Donald isn't mad at you. He just doesn't understand why you take things."

"I can't help it! When I take things I feel in control. When I don't I feel jittery and bad. But Uncle Donald hates it, he hates me. He's gonna leave because of me."

"What?" Dewey was stunned and almost pulled away.

"I heard the grown-ups talking about why Huey is sad. Tío Panchito said that Huey was worried he was gonna lose Uncle Donald the way we lost mom. Huey wouldn't be afraid of something for no reason, Dewey. Uncle Donald is gonna leave because I'm a bad kid. Because I take things."

Dewey was in shock. Louie was right, Huey's fears were never unfounded, but Louie was wrong about other things.

"You know how I got in a fight on Friday? That was pretty bad. I was fighting because someone told me that mom left because I was a bad kid. And you know what Huey told me? Huey reminded me that mom loved us and that she left for her own reasons. Uncle Donald isn't going to do that. Uncle Donald doesn't hate you and he's not going to leave us. And you're not a bad kid. You're a great kid. You just have…" Dewey tried to remember what his guidance counselor had said about him, "impulse control problems."

Louie was really quiet for a long time, thinking all of these things over. His tears began to slow.

"You promise Uncle Donald isn't going to run away from us?"

"I promise. Everything is going to be okay." That was what Huey always said, but Dewey was beginning to learn that they were really heavy words. Something was going on, and Dewey had the feeling that none of them had all of the pieces. When things had calmed down a bit more, Dewey was going to try to get to the bottom of this.