the guy gave me the creeps."
"He has that effect on some people," I agreed. "Well, good night."
"Wait a minute, Spencer," my mother commanded. "Aren't you going to do something?"
"Huh?" I said. "Oh, yeah." I leaned over and kissed my mother on the cheek.
"Night, Mom," I said, turning to go back downstairs.
"No, Spencer," my mother said. "I mean, about the situation concerning our houseguest. She's traumatized."
"Oh, all right," I replied.
I leaned over and kissed Merilee Rowling on the cheek.
"You jerk!" Merilee Rowling responded, wiping her cheek with her hand. "I don't want your slobbery kisses. I want you to stay in this room with me for the rest of the night."
Was I hearing this correctly? Or was it the sound of ice cracking on distant Craddock Pond?
"I see no reason why you can't sleep on the floor, Spencer," my mother said, "to protect Merilee from any more intrusions by that spooky so-called friend of yours. You owe her that much."
"The couch is lumpy, but at least it's a soft lumpy," I complained. "The floor is nothing but boards. Why can't she just scoot over?"
"That, Spencer, as you well know, would be improper," my mother pronounced, "although I don't expect you at your age to understand why."
Ha!
I thought.
Sez you!
It Happened One Night
WELL, WHO WOULD'VE THUNK IT,
I thought.
I've got seventeen-year-old Merilee Rowling in my room. No, not just in my room. In my
bed!
Spencer Adams Honesty.
The last kid in Paisley, Kansas.
I hauled up a few sofa cushions and quilts and fashioned on the floor the same sort of nest I was accustomed to sleeping in when the bed belonged to me. I couldn't see Merilee Rowling from where I was curled up, but I could certainly hear every sound she made, and it was pretty clear to me that she wasn't sleeping.
"What's on your mind?" I asked.
"You," she said.
"How's that?" I inquired.
"I was thinking I might be better off with the Indian," she explained. "You don't strike me as being old enough to have developed a code of honor."
"What do you mean, 'code of honor'?" I asked.
"In the days of old when knights and their royal ladies had to travel together and it came time to sleep, the knight would place his sword between them as a sign that he would not cross over while she slept. This was an important part of the knight's code of honor."
"No problemo," I replied. "I'll just fetch that pie knife from downstairs. Okay with you if there's still some pumpkin goo on it?"
"I'm not certain you understand," Merilee Rowling said. "How old are you, again?"
"Nineteen," I lied, adding some six years to my life in a single stroke. "But I'm small for my age. I had a rare disease when I was a child."
"Yeah, you had a disease, all right," Merilee Rowling retorted. "You had bullshit disease."
"We're hoping for a cure," I answered.
"There isn't one," Merilee Rowling replied. "Trust me. I know."
"You mean like your favorite activity being baking? Is that what you mean?" I asked knowingly.
Merilee Rowling giggled
"Oh, all right, you caught me," she said. "But I was just trying to be a good houseguest."
"Well, in your own special way, you are, Merilee Rowling," I said. "Anyway, good night. And don't worry. I'll keep an eye out for Indians."
"Thank you, Spencer," she replied. "And I'm sorry for doubting your code of honor."
And that was it until the next morning and the half-hour wait for the bathroom.
I couldn't stand having Chief Leopard Frog angry with me. The chief and I go back a long way, back to a time when I really needed a father and instead, after a whole lot of wishing, I got Chief Leopard Frog, who in many ways was better than a father.
Sometimes I'd mention to my mother that he'd told me something and she'd just smile and say, "That's nice." But I don't think she ever believed in him. The thing is, with an imaginary friend, no matter what age you are you have to be willing to suspend your everyday disbeliefs.
I've known people who've seen angels, received secret
"He has that effect on some people," I agreed. "Well, good night."
"Wait a minute, Spencer," my mother commanded. "Aren't you going to do something?"
"Huh?" I said. "Oh, yeah." I leaned over and kissed my mother on the cheek.
"Night, Mom," I said, turning to go back downstairs.
"No, Spencer," my mother said. "I mean, about the situation concerning our houseguest. She's traumatized."
"Oh, all right," I replied.
I leaned over and kissed Merilee Rowling on the cheek.
"You jerk!" Merilee Rowling responded, wiping her cheek with her hand. "I don't want your slobbery kisses. I want you to stay in this room with me for the rest of the night."
Was I hearing this correctly? Or was it the sound of ice cracking on distant Craddock Pond?
"I see no reason why you can't sleep on the floor, Spencer," my mother said, "to protect Merilee from any more intrusions by that spooky so-called friend of yours. You owe her that much."
"The couch is lumpy, but at least it's a soft lumpy," I complained. "The floor is nothing but boards. Why can't she just scoot over?"
"That, Spencer, as you well know, would be improper," my mother pronounced, "although I don't expect you at your age to understand why."
Ha!
I thought.
Sez you!
It Happened One Night
WELL, WHO WOULD'VE THUNK IT,
I thought.
I've got seventeen-year-old Merilee Rowling in my room. No, not just in my room. In my
bed!
Spencer Adams Honesty.
The last kid in Paisley, Kansas.
I hauled up a few sofa cushions and quilts and fashioned on the floor the same sort of nest I was accustomed to sleeping in when the bed belonged to me. I couldn't see Merilee Rowling from where I was curled up, but I could certainly hear every sound she made, and it was pretty clear to me that she wasn't sleeping.
"What's on your mind?" I asked.
"You," she said.
"How's that?" I inquired.
"I was thinking I might be better off with the Indian," she explained. "You don't strike me as being old enough to have developed a code of honor."
"What do you mean, 'code of honor'?" I asked.
"In the days of old when knights and their royal ladies had to travel together and it came time to sleep, the knight would place his sword between them as a sign that he would not cross over while she slept. This was an important part of the knight's code of honor."
"No problemo," I replied. "I'll just fetch that pie knife from downstairs. Okay with you if there's still some pumpkin goo on it?"
"I'm not certain you understand," Merilee Rowling said. "How old are you, again?"
"Nineteen," I lied, adding some six years to my life in a single stroke. "But I'm small for my age. I had a rare disease when I was a child."
"Yeah, you had a disease, all right," Merilee Rowling retorted. "You had bullshit disease."
"We're hoping for a cure," I answered.
"There isn't one," Merilee Rowling replied. "Trust me. I know."
"You mean like your favorite activity being baking? Is that what you mean?" I asked knowingly.
Merilee Rowling giggled
"Oh, all right, you caught me," she said. "But I was just trying to be a good houseguest."
"Well, in your own special way, you are, Merilee Rowling," I said. "Anyway, good night. And don't worry. I'll keep an eye out for Indians."
"Thank you, Spencer," she replied. "And I'm sorry for doubting your code of honor."
And that was it until the next morning and the half-hour wait for the bathroom.
I couldn't stand having Chief Leopard Frog angry with me. The chief and I go back a long way, back to a time when I really needed a father and instead, after a whole lot of wishing, I got Chief Leopard Frog, who in many ways was better than a father.
Sometimes I'd mention to my mother that he'd told me something and she'd just smile and say, "That's nice." But I don't think she ever believed in him. The thing is, with an imaginary friend, no matter what age you are you have to be willing to suspend your everyday disbeliefs.
I've known people who've seen angels, received secret
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