It’s finally time. We are all dried and ready to go. Today’s the day the man from Alabama comes to visit. Wait, I hear someone coming up to the house. It’s a different truck than usual and it’s not stopping at the house. It is coming to my building. The big man and his wife are walking to the truck and someone is getting out, and he is even bigger than the big man. I think this is Tom, the wood carver we have been waiting for. Everyone comes into the building and looks around. The woodcarver, I don’t know him well enough yet to call him Tom, begins to pick up many of my friends. Some he places in a box, some he puts back down. As he gets to me, I can tell he thinks I’m special. “This one is perfect for an idea I have,” he says. “I think I will carve him first.” The Carver puts several of us into boxes and moves us to his truck. He waves to the big man and his wife and pulls back onto the quiet county road. I am on my way to Alabama and I think I will know the Carver well enough to call him Tom before this is over. The next time we visit, I will be in Alabama.