the grandiosity of my sudden cleverness.
Perhaps homeschooling isn't such a bad idea after all.
The Night Visitor
WHERE WAS HE?
Chief Leopard Frog, who should have been around to offer consultation on a subject as big as this one, namely, the entrapment of a stranger, was nowhere to be found.
What a petulant, petty man he was turning out to be!
The screen door swung open and clouds of smoke followed Merilee Rowling and my mother inside.
"Spencer," my mother said, "did you know that this poor girl has traveled all the way from back east and has nowhere to stay the night?"
"That's terrible," I said insincerely.
Then I applied a little bit of psychology
"Maybe she could stay at the Baldersons'," I suggested. "If we could figure out how to get the place unlocked."
"Nonsense," my mother replied. "She'll do no such thing. She can stay right here in this house with us. Our home may be modest, but as long as the Lord gives us breath in our bodies, we'll always have room for one more."
"Actually," I said, to no one's understanding or approval, "if one of us were suddenly to stop breathing, there'd be room for an additional person, wouldn't there? So the Lord providing us with breath in our bodies is really something of an impediment, accommodation-wise."
"Spencer," my mother instructed, "you may sleep on the couch. Merilee Rowling will take your room."
"Now everybody just hold on a minute," I objected. "I have personal items in my room. I don't want some stranger poking around in there."
Merilee Rowling glared at me. She had high cheekbones and wide eyes like the girls on the covers of catalogs. I liked that.
"Oh, really, Spencer," Merilee Rowling said. "Do I look like a snoop?"
Now, what kind of question is that? This girl had just driven a thousand miles to get the skinny on a nonexistent Native American accidental poet, and she wanted to know if I thought she was capable of going through my stuff?
Holy macaroni!
I thought.
She's not just a snoop. She's a professional snoop.
It seemed that I'd already lost control of the situation. My timing was months off. Merilee Rowling should have waited until January to show up. Then we could have gone ice-skating on Craddock Pond before we chose rooms.
But who would have saved us when we broke through the ice? Paisley was deserted.
Hmm,
I thought.
Even the simplest of fantasies can become too complicated.
"Well, at least let me collect my valuables," I muttered, meaning my cigar box filled with photos, my ghost camera, my toothbrush, and a change of clothes.
"Spencer," my mother said, "how did you get to be so rude?"
"Is there anything I can do to help you prepare dinner, Mrs. Honesty?" Merilee Rowling asked. "I'm quite good at slicing vegetables."
"Well, I guess I could use some help with the pumpkin pie," my mother replied. "Do you enjoy baking?"
"It's my favorite pastime," Merilee Rowling replied.
What?
I thought.
First you give this girl my room, and now you 're trusting her with knives? This is not turning out at all as I had hoped!
A scream awoke the household in the middle of the night. It came from my room. I lay on the lumpy sofa and considered investigating. On the one hand, there was the siren call of my pillow. On the other, obvious trouble upstairs. Possibly serious. Possibly not.
What to do, what to do,
I wondered in a half slumber.
"Spencer!" my mother shouted. "Get up here now!"
I found the two women in my room, my mother seated beside Merilee Rowling with her arm around her shoulders, comforting her. I noticed that Merilee Rowling was wearing one of my T-shirts.
"Spencer, Merilee says there was a man in her room," my mother announced.
"Was he wearing a FedEx uniform?" I asked.
My mother glared at me.
"He was wearing an Indian headdress," Merilee Rowling said with a sad little sniff.
"Oh, that would be Chief Leopard Frog," I explained. "Did you get your interview?"
"Are you crazy?" Merilee Rowling responded. "I was too scared to think. Anyway,
Perhaps homeschooling isn't such a bad idea after all.
The Night Visitor
WHERE WAS HE?
Chief Leopard Frog, who should have been around to offer consultation on a subject as big as this one, namely, the entrapment of a stranger, was nowhere to be found.
What a petulant, petty man he was turning out to be!
The screen door swung open and clouds of smoke followed Merilee Rowling and my mother inside.
"Spencer," my mother said, "did you know that this poor girl has traveled all the way from back east and has nowhere to stay the night?"
"That's terrible," I said insincerely.
Then I applied a little bit of psychology
"Maybe she could stay at the Baldersons'," I suggested. "If we could figure out how to get the place unlocked."
"Nonsense," my mother replied. "She'll do no such thing. She can stay right here in this house with us. Our home may be modest, but as long as the Lord gives us breath in our bodies, we'll always have room for one more."
"Actually," I said, to no one's understanding or approval, "if one of us were suddenly to stop breathing, there'd be room for an additional person, wouldn't there? So the Lord providing us with breath in our bodies is really something of an impediment, accommodation-wise."
"Spencer," my mother instructed, "you may sleep on the couch. Merilee Rowling will take your room."
"Now everybody just hold on a minute," I objected. "I have personal items in my room. I don't want some stranger poking around in there."
Merilee Rowling glared at me. She had high cheekbones and wide eyes like the girls on the covers of catalogs. I liked that.
"Oh, really, Spencer," Merilee Rowling said. "Do I look like a snoop?"
Now, what kind of question is that? This girl had just driven a thousand miles to get the skinny on a nonexistent Native American accidental poet, and she wanted to know if I thought she was capable of going through my stuff?
Holy macaroni!
I thought.
She's not just a snoop. She's a professional snoop.
It seemed that I'd already lost control of the situation. My timing was months off. Merilee Rowling should have waited until January to show up. Then we could have gone ice-skating on Craddock Pond before we chose rooms.
But who would have saved us when we broke through the ice? Paisley was deserted.
Hmm,
I thought.
Even the simplest of fantasies can become too complicated.
"Well, at least let me collect my valuables," I muttered, meaning my cigar box filled with photos, my ghost camera, my toothbrush, and a change of clothes.
"Spencer," my mother said, "how did you get to be so rude?"
"Is there anything I can do to help you prepare dinner, Mrs. Honesty?" Merilee Rowling asked. "I'm quite good at slicing vegetables."
"Well, I guess I could use some help with the pumpkin pie," my mother replied. "Do you enjoy baking?"
"It's my favorite pastime," Merilee Rowling replied.
What?
I thought.
First you give this girl my room, and now you 're trusting her with knives? This is not turning out at all as I had hoped!
A scream awoke the household in the middle of the night. It came from my room. I lay on the lumpy sofa and considered investigating. On the one hand, there was the siren call of my pillow. On the other, obvious trouble upstairs. Possibly serious. Possibly not.
What to do, what to do,
I wondered in a half slumber.
"Spencer!" my mother shouted. "Get up here now!"
I found the two women in my room, my mother seated beside Merilee Rowling with her arm around her shoulders, comforting her. I noticed that Merilee Rowling was wearing one of my T-shirts.
"Spencer, Merilee says there was a man in her room," my mother announced.
"Was he wearing a FedEx uniform?" I asked.
My mother glared at me.
"He was wearing an Indian headdress," Merilee Rowling said with a sad little sniff.
"Oh, that would be Chief Leopard Frog," I explained. "Did you get your interview?"
"Are you crazy?" Merilee Rowling responded. "I was too scared to think. Anyway,
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