It's a thin line between witty and flippant

Kit is developing a great sense of humor. He likes to tell jokes, makes some up, and tries to sharpen his wit exchanging funny barbs with me. Unfortunately, not everyone is so fond of his banter. In fact, sometimes he doesn't know the difference between funny and backtalking, or just sarcasm, to an adult.

I have tried to explain that what sounds like a joke in his head might come across as insulting to the person he's talking to. I think he understands it but it's a subtle point. For a while he figured he could just start with the phrase "Nothing personal but..." like it's a disclaimer and then pound away with a jab. It's impossible to give real examples because they are too context dependant but it might go something like this: "Nothing personal but those glasses make you look like a fish." Ha, bloody, ha.

Neither Tish or Buddy get him in quite the same way I do, so while I let most of it roll off, it pushes their buttons in a hurry (A response, alas, that he doesn't mind cultivating -remember that Kit is a drama queen). The comment above notwithstanding, some of his wit is really quite funny and quick off the mark. But I can understand getting pissed off if you're looking for a kid to get ready for school and you get a smart aleck remark instead.

I've been trying to coach him to take a second to think about whether the comment is appropriate, both in timing and in content, before it pops out his mouth. I want to encourage his sense of humor, but it's a thin line between rapier wit and cutting insult.

In the Beginning, some dude created the Heavens and the Earth...

We’re back to having issues of trust with Tio. He’s too tempted to do what he wants despite high consequences. So I thought that maybe I could use the parable of Adam and Eve being thrown out of paradise for succumbing to temptation. Just the fact that it’s the very first story of the bible puts a premium on its importance. So I asked if he knew the story. This is what he said:

“Well, they were like these 2 dudes who lived in a great place and like the, I don’t know, the Great One, or somebody who ran the place told them they couldn’t have any of the apples. But Adam really wanted one and there was witch doctor or some dude, I don’t know, maybe he was a devil or dragon -- anyway he kept telling Adam to go ahead. Like he convinced him that he could have the apples. So Adam ate one and then he and Eve had to face reality. Like live in the real world.”

Close enough. Amen.

The anagram of Doc is OCD

Poor Doc has a bit of an obsessive/compulsive streak. He's come up with a cough that has gotten worse as I've gotten sick. It started when he got worried after I told everyone that we all have to be careful not to bring any cold or flu into the house because I will be more vulnerable to infection.

He already had a mild allergy to dust or dog fur and he started to overdo it on cue. He'd cough all through supper, careful to put his face into the crook of his arm, and then not cough the rest of the evening, or at school, or anywhere else. After a while, he'd spot me with a sidelong look, when either of us came into a room, and throw out a dry hack or 10. At times it's laughable how earnest he is, at other times, I realize he really can't help himself.

In the meantimer, it's been going on for weeks and he's developed a hoarse throat that turned into a real cough. Good thing I don't have Bakugan's disease or who knows what might have happened to the kid.

The marriage bed: the most important piece of real estate in your world

When you think about it, your marriage bed is a major focal point of life. That 7 foot square bit of mattress has been through every part of your life as much as you. Hot passion, sickness, TV, breakfast in bed and supper in the tub. The worst fights and the best make-up. Your kids have been invited in to save them from monsters in the night or watched  closely through fever. You've built emotional walls to protect yourself from the monster beside you and found ways to burrow closer into their soul. Add in long nights of insomnia or worry and days that you just couldn't get up and there's nothing you haven't shared with that bed that you haven't shared with life.

Right now, after more than a quarter of a century, I'm sleeping on a spare sofa and Tish has our bed to herself. Saying goodnight and going into separate rooms leaves me with an odd sense of loneliness even though I know it's temporary. There is something sacrosanct about the covenant of that bed. In some ways it embodies the health of the marriage and my having to leave it while I convalesce, speaks deeply to me.

I can only hope that when I'm back on my feet that the bed won't reject me.

Too much of a fog to blog

It seems my drug addled brain is keeping me from even thinking up much to blog on. Sorry about that. I suspect that means I'll be posting a bit intermittently over the next few weeks while I get this all sorted out. Probably short bits with pictures and video more than brain juice.

Today, a friend brought Chinese food for lunch (and she brought me a snappy little fedora for my egghead!). Tomorrow night we'll have a great supper made by a co-worker of Tish's. Another friend suggested that I watch daytime soaps and use the blog to update everyone. My son-in-law has been coming by and looking after me all week. And my friend who wants me to watch TV for her (I can sniff an ulterior motive a mile off :0) will take Doc off our hands over the weekend to hang out with her boys while Tish and Buddy are at work. I felt well enough to hang out with Tish and the boys this evening and it was the first "normal" feeling evening I've had in a long time.

These are very special people. Thanks everyone.

Idle hands are the devil's playthings

Had another chemo treatment today. All went well. Not too sick. Boys were good when we got home, everyone in a good mood. Can't complain. There is one side effect of the chemo that I didn't expect. It crept up on me the past couple of weeks and I think it's here to stay. I'm bored.

Thing is, I've never really been bored before. My mind has kept me busy for 35 years with my flute work, my daydreams, my writing, making movies, and a thousand other things. But the chemo has numbed my creative mind like I have writer's block for everything and I have no energy to start a new project. It's like suddenly finding your lips are swollen everytime you pick up the flute, or realizing that everything you look at is blurry and out of focus no matter where you look. 

I can't do all the usual stuff with the kids or do any building projects or housework because I get tired real fast and my immune system is low. I really don't want to get reduced to watching daytime TV, and updating my facebook every hour really isn't my thing.

I guess I'll read and readjust to a different pace of life. Maybe the fog will lift enough to let me jot a couple of fresh ideas down. In the meantime, I guess I better learn to live with a little boredom.

You've come a long way, Buddy

Over the history of this strange crowded household we live in, I’ve given Buddy a pretty hard rap from time to time. He came here in rough shape with 3 kids under his wing and a lot of troubles in his suitcase. Well, I have to say that of all of is in this house he’s evolved the most. He’s become clear thinking, determined, attentive to his kids, and genuinely prepared to do all he can to make this family succeed.

Of course, he has his limits, as do we all, but he’s stepped outside the preconceived box that he arrived in and it is paying off in rewards that I don’t think he could have otherwise expected or hoped for. First and foremost, he’s earning the respect of his children. He sets limits and sticks to them even when they put up a fight. He finds time and attention to spend on each of them and keeps a fairly good nature throughout. Among other things, he’s learning to cope with his own shortcomings without projecting them on the children and he much more punctual than he’s ever been his whole life.

It’s such a pleasure to see. It makes a dad proud and gives me hope that he’s finally finding his feet on the ground and might be able to move forward in life in ways that he couldn’t even dream of before. He spent so many years in a fog of bad decisions, short term misadventures, true dispair, and missteps that led in a downward spiral of negativity and self abuse that many never recover from.

He’s only thirty-four and I look forward to what comes next for him.

Honey, they're playing our song!

I missed a couple of days blogging because of a few distractions not the least of which was having my facebook hacked by someone who wanted to be me (who knew, right?).
Meanwhile back in reality...

A lot of couples have a favorite song, a song that draws out a particular memory of a young relationship, a song they can call their own. And we're no exception. The other day Tish and I were in a clothing store looking at spring jackets when over the air came the familiar melody of the Beatles tune that we call ours. We looked up at each other across a sea of gore-tex, denim and leather and smiled while we joined in with Paul McCartney.

"Why don't we do it in the road..."

When dual personalities conflict

Yesterday Tio threw an insult at me that showed me that he is still such a little boy but then today he took a chance on something that indicated there's a brave young man lurking in there. I guess that's what teenagers are all about.

His insult was showed that he is still very self absorbed at a time when there are bigger things going on in the family than his immediate wants. He said that I hold him down because I'm not interested in his scooter, which is his latest sport craze. Me, holding him down? Me, who taught him to read and write when he was 4, who's been there every week of his life no matter what was going on, who drives him to every sport and pushes him to achieve because he's so smart. It made me angry and I let him have it.

After I cooled off, I explained that I'm not interest in his scootering because I'm surviving 3 surgeries and fighting cancer, and his sports take a back seat right now. I can only hope he understands that because there is a world beyond the end of his nose that sometimes requires more attention then his self involvement allows for. It calls for some real maturity.

Then today he called up a local business looking for sponsors to start a scooter club he and his friends want to compete with. While this is still working on his own interests, I've never seen him reach that far on his own. It may or may not amount to anything, but the fact that is his making the first step is important and shows a kind of maturity.

I'll take 10 insults if I can get just one of those initiatives. That's a spark I've been waiting a long time for. I hope it lights a fire.

All for one and one for all!

My hair is starting to come out in clumps.

Bunnie wants me to shave her, too, in solidarity.

The times they are 'a changin'

I've mentioned that my stepping down from running the family might create some problems and getting used to the changes do have everything in a bit of turmoil. Even though Tish and Buddy are doing a great job and the kids are responding well enough, we have a lot of speed bumps ahead.

What I didn't expect, and should have, was for Tish to be the first casualty. She's totally stressed out over me plus having so much more to do with the boys that the last straw broke over something not that big today and she had a meltdown.

There's no question that the boys are 3 oversized handfuls and Tish was never interested in being their full time keeper. This change that is so may be too much and I don't want to wait to find out. I don't think I have the luxury of completely stepping aside as I imagined only a couple of days ago. 

This is like a puzzle where I know the pieces can all fit together so we can all make it through this. But it's a Rubic's cube not at jigsaw and those always take more patience, understanding and cunning to solve.

The Dogs Life in Pictures

Our Master Trainer: Tish at Work

Bunnie, Maddie & Gulliver

Kit promoting canine safety

Grampy and Bunnie grab a snooze

Doc trains Maddie to sit

Tio & Maddie. (You can't like everyone)

Kit reads to Maddie

Bunnie & Gully. Getting along?

Bunnie sure takes liberties

Tres cool

And the day isn't over yet...

Are the boys always this boneheaded or was today an exception? It's the first Saturday in a while that I've been left with them and it seemed that at least 2 of them took stupid pills. At one point in the day all 3, plus a friend of Tio's were riding scooters around at the one busy intersection in our tiny village like they were at the skate park with absolutely no concern for the 6 year old's safety (who I didn't even realize was with them at first) or their own. I found out later, after I got down there and broke the party up, that Tio and his friend were playing the "invisible rope game" to make cars think they were holding a wire across the road. Even after drivers stopped and even threatened them with trouble, they kept it up.

I can't believe how ingrained it is that they lie for no reason. I've worked on this for years and they still think there is a gray area, as if telling an unimportant lie is less a lie than something that has consequence. They still haven't connected it to trust. Understandable with Doc because he's so young and doesn't yet understand what trust means. But Tio and Kit need trust to have freedom in their lives and still don't get it no matter how often we go over it.

Adding in the noise and insults and wasting food et. al. was like pouring cold gravy over pork to fill up the corners of my day. I really have been hoping that there would be a magic day when Tio would really get that the world didn't stop at the end of his nose. Not there yet. Surprisingly, Kit was the most well behaved and clear thinking one of the bunch. He didn't create any drama all day long.

Grammo gets home soon and I'll drown my headache in caffeine.

When what we need to do clashes with what we want to do

Kit's real behavior challenge isn't that he has no self control it's that he doesn't want to have to use it. He wears girl style clothes and attitudes that draw attention because he likes it that way. I know some may think that's a hard thing to say about a kid because we all assume that, given the choice, kids want to fit in. Not necessarily so. This morning, he said he didn't want to take his ADD pill because he missed the drama he used to create.

But last night's confession while tucking him into bed said it all. I told him my sleep schedule seemed to have shifted right now so that I was actually getting up early. "I guess that means I'll see you in the morning before you go to school."

"Oh," he lamented.
"You'd rather I didn't get up?"
"It's not that," he explained. "It's just if you're up I have to behave well."

While it's nice to know he doesn't want to act up in front of me, in the words of Yoda "the force is strong in this one."

Harvesting disappointment instead of success

Kit turned 11 last Friday. I didn't mark the occassion on the blog before because he didn't celebrate here so all was quiet. However, he had a great time with his mom, grampa and brothers down on Cape Cod, got some nifty gifts and it rounded out his vacation nicely. However, his mom gave him a cell phone that she knew he couldn't keep. 

Buddy and I have told him countless times that he can't have a phone with internet access - which is most cell phones these days except the basic Tracfone. He insisted all he wanted was a phone (even though he has had 2 Tracfones before and all he used them for was taking pictures and recording silly noises) but was imagining himself behind the wheel of a smart phone with touch screen and facebook and all the bells and whistles.

After enjoying it for a day, I said, "You know you can't keep it because it has internet. How many times did we tell you that you can't have internet phone in this house?"
He conceded that it was a lot.
"Did you tell your mother that?"
"No."
"Then you only have yourself to blame and I'm sorry for that. We'll send it to her or your aunt and you can use it when you visit them."

It soon became obvious that his mom was aware that he couldn't have that kind of phone. First because Buddy had told her and, second, on the ride home his mom's boyfriend said that if we took the phone away 'they'd have the police charge us with stealing'. (Again with the police. Can't that family resolve anything on their own?)

His mom knew there would be controversy over the phone but they gave it to him anyway. Then the  stakes got raised with the mention of cops being involved and he came home knowing that his nice birthday present was going to cause trouble. Total disappointment. Instead of creating a situation where he gets something nice and everyone approves, he's stuck in the middle of a battle over something he knew he couldn't have in the first place - and so did they.

Happy birthday, kid, let's hope your grampy and dad choke on it. Nice. When are we ever going to be able to settle down and work things out together.

Chore Chart

Grammo wants to get some organization into the chores around here so they can keep the place clean and picked up while I'm sick. I think they're in for a bit of a shock.

Kit decided to write it all down on a chart so everyone could pick jobs and split them all up fairly among all four of them. This picture is an 18"x24" that he drew up with colors and arrows and everything. When he was all done, he stuck it to the wall and Grammo said, "That's a lot of stuff to do. We'll have to work hard to get it all done."

Kit asked, "Who did it before?"

"That would be me," I said, "and you haven't mentioned homework help, laundry, driving you guys all over town, school & doctor appointments, and a ton of other stuff."

No wonder I didn't have any time to write or, um, sleep.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Grampy

The Grampinator, Dirty Grampy Callahan, Hannibal Grampy, Count Grampula, Darth Grampy...

I woke up yesterday with a revelation. I’ve mentioned my disappointment that I’ve had to change my role as ‘fun’ Grampy who gets to spoil the boys with extra treats, play games and so forth to ‘parent’ Grampy, the guy who makes you eat your peas, do your homework, wear your coat and “act your age”. It’s hard to be both. Once they get a taste of taskmaster Grampy, it’s hard to switch back. Also the energy it takes to be the responsible parent just sucked me dry for anything else.

Tish and Buddy taking over the parental role while I go through chemo has lifted a load off my shoulders. They’re conferring and working together to do all the work I did keeping the boys on track so I get to be a plain ol’ Grampy again. Of course, with reduced energy and having to keep distance from infection, we’ll work it out on a different scale but it’s something to look forward to. Something I’ve missed terribly with all three boys.

I'm Published Again

It's been almost 10 years since anything I've written has been published in a book. Well here's an anthology of grandparenting stories with one of mine in it. Wondrous Child is a great collection of stories from all aspects of grandparenting. The editor, Lindy Hough, has brought together some wonderful stories from all over North America. My contribution is a day in the life on Grampy's Acre (a story many of you may already be familiar with :O) called "The Grampy Diaries".

Visit  Amazon  to get a copy, download it to your Kindle, and read some descriptions and great reviews.

******

As a footnote, I'm just curious how many readers enjoyed reading "You Pedal, I'll Steer" serialized over the past couple of months. If you could post a note or hit the LIKE button on your link, I'd be ever so grateful.

The boys are back in town

The kids returned from their vacation wee looking rested and fine. There was a bit of a flurry over the travel arrangements. Debbie and her father still aren't clear on what "100% supervised visit” means. I hope they can work that out before next time. Other than that things went well and they settled back into routine smoothly.

It was quite different in other ways. In past, I've always settled down and played with new toys, listened to stories and caught up on the gossip. Not today. I had to excuse myself to go lie down and I couldn't touch Doc's toys because he's sniffling. I just listened in from upstairs.

What I heard was quite different from usual. Buddy was in the center of everything and there were no raised voices or backtalk. He was in charge, engaged, and enjoying the whole scene. He made them some lunch, played with Doc, helped Kit set up his MP3 and then packed everyone off to grocery shop and Walmart. 

For the past 2 years that was me and it felt like the torch was being passed to Dad - where it rightfully belongs. There was a pang of loss while I heard them all going about life without me, a feeling of pride that I'd been instrumental in making this possible, and a sigh of relief that I might really be able to hand this job off while I'm ill. Maybe even leave it with him.

We've come a long way, baby.

You Pedal, I'll Steer (part The End)

A bike crash, a missed race, and Halloween night on the rise...
Now the exciting, long awaited conclusion of our story.


CHAPTER 21

I woke up. I was in bed. Bright lights. A hose stuffed up my nose.
I tried to look around. A small white room with a big wide wooden door, bed with rails on the sides and a bunch of machines blipping away. Beside me was a bag of water hanging from a hook with a hose leading over to me. What? This is a hospital bed!
I scrambled to sit up. Wow, did that make me dizzy. I fell back on the pillow.
“Mom?”
Dad’s face appeared. I remember: the bike, traffic lights, a car crash. We went out when we weren’t supposed to. Dad came here to kill me.
“Sorry.” I coughed. My throat hurt like crazy.
He put a warm hand on my forehead. “Shh. Don’t talk. It’s going to be okay.” He didn’t look mad at all. He looked scared to death.
I tried to sit up again. I think I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes the whole family was crammed around staring at me like I was dead. Alec had a hangdog look like he’d pulled the trigger and the big boys looked relieved. I must be bad off. Dad had a broken smile on his face.
“It’s going to be okay, Johnnie,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.”
Jeff said, “This stuff looks cool. Wish I was hooked up to all these machines.” It sounded more like he’d rather be dipped in cod liver oil.
“Here, I brought you your favourite comic book,” Kate handed me a new Spiderman adventure, still crisp and unopened. “I hope you can still read.”
“Thanks.”
Kate said, “You have a broken leg and concussion.”
“They’re going to keep you here overnight and if everything is fine you can come home tomorrow,” Dad explained.
My heart froze. Overnight? I looked down at my legs. They were covered in a blanket. I couldn’t feel a thing and wondered if they’d amputated me.
“Check this out,” Eric said. He peeled back the blanket and there was a thick white plaster cast wrapped around my left leg. “You got a cast from your thigh down to your ankle.” He rapped on it. I didn’t feel a thing. I couldn’t even lift it up it was so heavy.
That was scary. But not half as much as being left alone that night. “Will you stay with me?”
Dad said, “It’s not allowed.”
“But...” I glanced towards the door and thought of a thousand terrible things that could happen. “Can I please come home? I promise I’ll be good. We can go to Gramma’s.”
“We’ll go another time,” Dad said.
I looked at Alec. “What happened?”
“We got picked off by a van crossing Coxwell. The guy didn’t even see us we came up so fast. I got thrown clear but you got tangled in the bike and run over.”
Dad smiled like he was in a good mood. But I knew he was steamed by the way Alec was so quiet.
“How’s the bike?”
He looked at Dad and gulped.
A nurse came in and announced, “Visiting hours are over.” She said it like a movie just ended and it was time to leave the theatre. She started shooing everyone out while straightening out my blankets and checking my tubes. I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes.
“Can’t at least you stay, Dad?” I asked. The nurse looked like a nice lady, all starched out in white with curly brown hair. But who knows what happens around here at night.
Dad shook his head. “Even if I was allowed I can’t leave the others at home alone.”
“I could be in charge,” Eric offered real fast.
“Not on your life. One disaster per day is enough.”
“You’ll be fine, John,” the nurse insisted. “I’ll be here all night to look after you. My name is Jenny, in case you forgot.”
They all trouped out and the place got dead quiet. I wanted Mom to be there so bad.
All I could hear was squeaky shoes and hushed voices in the hall. There was a drawn curtain dividing my room in half. I couldn’t imagine who, or what, was on the other side. Jenny brought some kind of stew with watery peas and mashed potatoes for dinner. As bad as it tasted it wasn’t corned beef and eggs.
I spent the evening looking at the comic book and dreading the night. Finally, Jenny turned out the lights. I lay awake listening to the absolute silence wondering who would creep in and finish me off. Sometimes I heard wispy voices down the hallway like wind whistling in through a crack in the door. It was horrible. When I did manage to drift off, Jenny woke me up to give me pills or check my head. Then I’d lay there all over again waiting for some zombie to come get me.
Finally, I saw daylight poke through the blinds and I fell asleep for real.
CHAPTER 22

Dad and Kate were there when I woke up. I got to go home on crutches. They’re real easy to learn once you get the hang of them. Kate said Alec didn’t come because he was steering clear of Dad. I could understand that. I would have done the same thing.
Back home, everyone was really nice. Alec and I switched bunks so I could have the bottom.
“Mom’ll be back on Thursday,” he told me. “Everything will go back to normal after that.” He also said that Seymour’s leg healed real fast so mine probably would, too.
I didn’t go back to school right away. Dad stayed home with me. I thought he would be real tough on account of us running off to the race. But he was nice. We played cards and checkers. He watched TV with me and made lunch. I didn’t even have to eat the horrible suppers he cooked. I got hot dogs and frozen dinners.
Halloween was Wednesday night. All our plans went down the drain. Alec had finished the Fantam outfit and even cut holes in a sheet for the ghost costume. But Dad wouldn’t let me go out, even just around our street.
“Could I go as a car accident ghoul? All I need is a shirt with ketchup on it. Please, please, please?”
He said no way.
“You’ll be lucky and maybe that’ll be the only punishment you get,” Kate said.
You mean, besides a broken, itchy leg and crutches, and staying in that hospital alone, I thought. But I didn’t complain.
Kate went out with her friends. She dressed as Raggedy Ann with painted freckles and pig tails. Alec stayed with me to hand out candy to the kids that came by.
Mom usually made popcorn balls or caramel corn but Dad bought real loot. Mixed mini chocolate bars just like the ones we hoped to get on Glen Manor. We ate as much as we gave away to all the Mummies and Zorros and Robin Hoods and Tinkerbells that rang the bell. There were even a couple of Charlie Browns.
We were almost out when three go-go girls about my age showed up in tin foil boots, leotards and mini skirts. The tons of make up and sparkly wigs made it hard to guess who they really were.
“Aren’t you Debbie Bell?” Alec asked the one in the middle.
I looked up and went bright red. Her face was covered in silver and green glitter so I couldn’t tell who she was.
She nodded and smiled when our eyes met. They were the same blue as mine. “Hi, John. We miss you at school. Everybody is still talking about how much fun your dog was at the pet show.”
I loved the way she said my name. Or that she said it at all. I looked to Alec for help. He just winked and went to the kitchen.
I looked at the table. “Really? I thought I messed everything up.”
They all giggled and came in so I could put candy in their bags. One of the other girls was Mary Bedford. She sat in the front row. I couldn’t tell who the third girl was. She was taller than both the others. I gave them the rest of our chocolate bars.
“Hello, Gulliver!” she said and she kneeled down to let him kiss her and thump his tail. “Didn’t you hear? After you went home, the class gave Gully the prize for most fun pet. You should have seen Pratt turn all purple. Like he drank poison. Donald’s dog won the talent show. John Payson’s bird came in second. ”
“Did 99 win anything?” I asked.
“Naw, she’s just a cat,” Debbie said. “She didn’t stand a chance.”
“How did you break your leg?” Mary asked. “We heard you were in an accident?”
I told them about the bike and the race and how we got hit. Debbie looked really concerned and sat down beside me in Alec’s chair. I could hardly breathe.
“Can I sign your cast?” she asked.
No way! She wanted to sign my cast? That was like...that was like getting hit by a car was worth it. I tried to keep my jaw from snapping open and falling on the floor. “Yeah, sure.” I pointed to a pen on the mail table beside the door. “There.”
She ran her hand over the smooth plaster. She was so close I could smell her hair.
‘To John, Get Well Soon. Debbie.’ she wrote above my knee. As if that wasn’t enough her signature had a heart dotting the ‘I’ in Debbie. Wearing her signature was going to be sweet. I didn’t care about anything else.
The other girls wrote their names, too. I hardly noticed.
“You want me to bring your homework home for you while your out of school? So you don’t fall behind?” She looked really concerned. It made my heart thump something crazy.
I didn’t know what to say. “If it...okay,” I mumbled.
She shrugged. “It’s on my way home anyway.”
“Thanks. I’d appreciate that.” There was an understatement. Imagine Debbie Bell stopping by every day after school! I didn’t care if she was going to drop off a liver sandwich as long as she came with it.
After they left Alec came back and asked, “What’s with the goofy expression?”
I told him what she said and showed him what she wrote. It didn’t seem to have the same effect on him.
“I’m sorry you couldn’t go out tonight,” he said for the hundredth time. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”
He had no idea that what just happened was ten times better than trick or treating. Suddenly, a thought popped into my head. “You want to make it up to me? Really? Go trick or treat at Miss Hatten’s.”
“Hee. Hee. Ha. Ha.” He laughed mechanically. Then his eyes scrunched up into his schemer face. “That sounds like a challenge.” Long pause. “I’ll need a good costume.” Another pause. He went out on the porch and looked across the street. “It’s pitch black over there. I might never come back. You want me to risk that?”
“Yes.” The suggestion started as a joke but since he was taking it seriously...
“Give me a couple of minutes to think it over.”
Kate came back with a bunch of other girls. They all cooed about my cast and signed it and then traipsed into the livingroom to paw through their haul. I limped in, green with envy looking at those huge piles of candy on the floor.
“I’m going to go over and ring the old witch’s bell,” Alec announced.
The room hushed up like somebody died.
“No! Really?” Pam said. She was dressed as a witch. “We didn’t go there.”
“Some boys already gave her house an egg bath,” Kate said. “Sure you want to do that?”
As soon as he saw the attention he was getting for even thinking such a thing, Alec puffed up like a sponge full of water. “Yup. I’ll go and I’ll live to tell the tale.”
The girls all looked at him with awe.
That was enough for him. He borrowed Pam’s red wig, put on one of Mom’s dresses that almost fit. The girls dolled him up with red lipstick and eye liner. He even stuffed a towel in his shirt for a chest. When they were done, under that phony wig and all that red lipstick painted over a grin full of braces he was the ugliest girl I’d ever seen. He stood in the middle of the room with an orange Unicef box and trick or treat bag in one hand and wagging the other one in the air.
“Rumour is that she’s nice to girls,” he said in a high voice.
“That’s because we taste the best!” Eva said.
“We cook up slowwwww and eevvven to get all crispy,” said Brenda. She lived in the house next to Miss Hatten’s.
Everyone laughed and cheered him on while he swung his hips and danced out the door. Kate turned out the lights so we could watch him cross the street and go up her driveway.
I wasn’t so sure it was that funny. What if he didn’t come back? Maybe he did make up some stuff but everyone knew she was still a witch. There was no telling what might happen.
“You think she’ll kill him?” a girl dressed like Mary Poppins asked.
All eyes stared across the street.
“He’s the bravest boy I ever knew,” said someone else.
“Maybe the stupidest, too,” said Kate.
We waited forever in total silence. Only older kids were still walking up the street. Even they were quiet when they passed her house. It was the wrong night to stir up real evil. It’s all fine to make believe, but you gotta show some respect for the real thing.
Not Alec. He was walking straight into the horse’s mouth.
Finally, we couldn’t stand it anymore. Someone suggested we call the police. Someone else said we should get an adult. Some idiot suggested we all go over there in a clump and rescue him.
It might have been me.
“That’ll only fill her freezer with food for a year,” Eva cackled.
“Right,” everyone agreed and killed that idea.
All eyes stayed focused at the bent up trash can under the street light. This was too much. He’d had enough time to get in and out by now. We didn’t hear any screams. Finally, a shadow appeared and a collective gasp went out. The shadow turned into a the shape of our very ugly girl. A flurry of hands pulled him up on the porch like yanking him out of the sea off a life raft.
Kate hugged him like he’d been lost for years. “What happened? You were gone a long time.” Her voice was shaky.
“She invited me in,” he said, like it was natural. “and in I went.”
Collective gasp.
“You went?”
“No way.”
“You lie like a rug.”
He led the crowd back inside and stood in the middle in that stupid getup telling his story. No one breathed.
“The house was pitch black, even at the side door, but I rang the bell anyway. I heard scratching - and shuffling feet. A dim porch light blinked on and I saw her face through the stained glass side window. I raised up my Unicef box and smiled. She cracked opened the door a peep.”
He made a creaking noise and twisted his head like he was peeking through a narrow slot. “What do you want, little girl?” she asked.
“What did she look like?” asked a Cinderella.
 His eyes swept around the room. “She was wrinkly and old with blow away grey hair, wearing a dirty old bathrobe, and she had only one tooth in her head.”
“What did you say to her?” Mary Poppins asked.
“Can you spare a donation for Unicef?” Alec squeaked in a girl’s voice.
“What did she do?” asked Pam.
He grinned all sly through the red lipstick and rubbed his hands like he was washing. “Come in, dear, while I get you a penny.”
“No!”
“Yup. She called me a pretty girl and said she’d go for her purse.”
“No way.”
“Don’t believe me?” He rattled his Unicef box until a single bright penny fell out. “See?”
Heaps of fingers reached out for that penny and it got passed around from hand to hand. One girl even bit it.
On my turn, I saw it was a real penny alright. Queen on one side, maple leaf on the back. It wasn’t even old.
The girls all peppered him with questions. He hammed it up while he described her and her house. How it was all run down and dusty inside. About how she had watery eyes and her voice wasn’t a screech like a witch, but actually kind of nice.
I was in awe. Alec had gone inside the dragon’s lair and come back out alive. I wondered where the one tooth in her head was located. I imagined an old yellow one stuck right in the middle of her forehead. Maybe even with a filling still in it.
After all the girls went home, Dad came out of the library and herded us upstairs to bed. I lay there thinking how Alec always looked out for me. He showed me it was possible to face anything. Wearing only girl’s clothes for armour he went over there to prove there was no curse. Sure, he made most of it up. But inside all the adventures he invented there was always a bit of true.
If he could face her, I could face Mr. Pratt and John Payson. Even evil spells. Who knows. I just needed a little of his courage. So what if I missed trick or treats and got in a crash, and all that other stuff. I learned how to ride a bike, Gulliver won a prize, and Debbie signed my cast. I bet I could even get everyone safely off Peanut Island.
Best of all, Mom was coming home tomorrow.
It had been a good night. Maybe the best night of my life. I set the alarm for five thirty.
“Good night, Soc.”
“Sleep well, little brother.”

THE END

When the student becomes the master

Tish is a canine behavior specialist who spends her days working with all kinds of dogs to understand how they think, modify their inappropriate behavior and help place them in new homes from the animal shelter. She takes her dog, Maddie, a boistrous Australian Shepherd, to work every day with her to help retrain the kennel dogs for a better life. 

At home, like Bunnie with me, Maddie is master of our domain, Tish just sometimes doesn't know she is wrapped around her dewclaw. For instance, early in the morning,  around 5 am Maddie is ready to get up but Tish is still sawing off the zees. Unfortunately for Maddie, she sleeps in a locked crate and can't simply sneak up and lap an ear until she gets results. On the other hand, she knows if she simply barked she'd rouse everyone, get yelled at and told to shut up. Instead she lets out a slow series of whimpers. "hawooow.... hahmmmmmm.... hawoooow." Just enough to disturb Tish's sleep pattern and change her breathing. Then, as she starts to slumber again Maddie gently grunts - again, enough to be noticed, but not get everyone involved. If I wasn't already awake, I'd miss it completely and the other dogs could care less. That shrugs Tish just a bit more into consciousness and with a couple more quiet whines, she has her mistress roused, sitting up and getting dressed until they go downstairs and start their day. Tish doesn't even realize half the time that the dog is the one who woke her up. It's a masterpiece of training. 

This is just one very complex example of how a dog's mind works to get what it needs. It's what fascinates Tish and sends her and Maddie to work with a spring in their step every day.