 He will be screaming or singing or howling in a high pitch. He is a supersonic Tarzan, an alarm clock that we cannot ignore because we have sleeping neighbors. One of us, Deb or I, cursing beneath our breath, will peel ourselves out of bed and hurry down the creaking stairway. Michael, we will say in our most authoritative voice, Michael, get in here. And Michael will drop the belt and do as we say.