[He might be an adult man, but he's not too proud to hide from a possessed bit of wicker behind a little blue-haired girl with a big stick. She's doing better against it than he was, anyway, which is his justification for scrambling up and making sure she, and her oar, are between him and the futon beater as it struggles to escape from the bush.]

I don't know! I was just going to air out the futons and it came to life on me! I've been taking good care of it, I swear....

[Sure, it'd been in the shed before, but a lot of useful things had been in the shed. He'd taken everything he could fix and put it back in use.]