“Mom, what are you doing?” Dobby
asks.
“Checking my coffee.” Writer
Lady looks up at the cat standing on the table with the computer.
“For stray grounds.”
“You're drinking that coffee? I
thought it was full of grounds.”
“I poured it through another
filter, very carefully.”
Dobby sniffs at the cup. “It
doesn't smell very good.”
“I think all of the grounds
got caught in the filter when I poured it. Besides,” Writer Lady
takes a sip, “I've had worse. It's not like it's molded or
anything.”
“I think in 2014 we should work on
raising your standards a little bit Mom.”
“Why? It's not like I've gotten
sick or anything.”
“Mom people die from food
poisoning. Don't forget. I'm really important. I don't like anyone
else enough to let them feed me.” Dobby says.
“You're right kitty. I shouldn't
be so selfish. Pie?” Writer Lady asks.
Dobby sniffs at the plate. “What
kind?”
“Lemon Meringue.”
“Mom, that lemon pie is greenish
purple. It's growing tentacles.”
“Maybe we shouldn't eat this then.
I'll put it in the trash.” Writer Lady takes the pie into the kitchen
to throw it away.
“Mom? Put some bug spray on it
too. Just in case.” Dobby muttering. “I better not find
that thing crawling around the house later tonight.”
“Psst...”
Dobby ignores the sound and heads over
to the blanket chest for a nap.
“PSSSST! Dobby!”
Looking up, Dobby sees that it is
Tinkletoes standing hidden in the darkened hallway. TP is fluttering back and
forth alternating hovering over Tinkletoes' right shoulder and then
his left. Tinkletoes gestures for Dobby to come into the hall.
Taking one last look at Writer Lady who is looking at kitten pictures on FB
instead of writing, Dobby silently jumps off the blanket chest and
heads into the hallway.
“What's she doing in there?”
Tinkletoes asks.
“Pretending to write.” Dobby
answers.
“You have to make her stop. We
can't surprise her like this. We need that room.”
“I know. I was waiting for you to
be ready. If I sent her away too soon Mom might come back early.”
Tinkletoes looks at TP. TP looks
into the living room over Tinkletoes' shoulder. Furnatche, Aunt
Purdy, Peter, Paige and Dylan all look back at TP expectantly. TP
looks back at Tinkletoes and nods. Tinkletoes turns back to Dobby.
“We're ready. Now get her out of here.”
“Okay.” Dobby turns around,
does a full body stretch, touches up the fur on the top of his head
then heads back into the computer room.
“Mom. Did you get Grandma's
message?”
Not turning away from the kitten
pictures, “No what message?”
“Grandpa fell down, he's drooling
and can't eat his cake. She needs you to come over and eat it for
him.”
Writer Lady turns to face Dobby.
“Whaaa?”
“I'm not kidding Mom. Call and
check.”
Writer Lady picks up her phone to
call. “Wait,” she says, “there's a text.” Your father
has fallen he is drooling so much he can't eat cake. Come eat cake.
Or whatever Dobby said. “That's
weird. I better go check on her
and Dad. I never should have
let her and TP start texting each other. I
knew that was going to bite me in the butt sooner or later. I would
have preferred later. Much later.”
Writer
Lady leaves. Mission accomplished.
Several Hours Later...
“It
is so late. I don't know how I'm ever going to get this week's post
written.” Writer Lady says hurrying through the house, turning on
lights, closing blinds and generally fussing.
“Grandpa
is fine. I have no idea what she was talking about. She has no idea
what that text was about. Do you know she doesn't even remember
sending it?”
Writer
Lady looks at Dobby, starting to ask a question when she sees the computer
room light is on. “Did I leave a light on kitty? I don't remember
doing that.” Mom heads for the room, pauses, grabs the Big Red
Flashlight and
brandishes
it like the weapon few people realize it can be. She
approaches the computer
room's door. Reaching out, she turns the knob and gives it a push.
“SURPRISE!”
Everyone yells. Tinkletoes jumps out from behind the door with TP
riding on his nose. The faerie is
wearing a clown suit.
In
a matter of seconds Tinkletoes had been hit across the nose, smacked
on the forehead and taken a hard hit to the groin. The mercenary
lands
on his knees pale and groaning in pain.
“Oh
no, I did it again.” Writer
Lady leans down and asks Tinkletoes, “Are you hurt?”
Tinkletoes
groans.
“I'm
so sorry.”
More
groaning.
“Someone
please get some ice.” Writer Lady says. A bright red wheelbarrow
appears full of ice packs. The wheelbarrow lifts up and empties
itself right in front of Tinkletoes. Tinkletoes reaches for the ice
packs, positions most of them between his legs and Tinkletoes squats down into
the ice. As his color returns he hands ice packs to Peter and Aunt
Purdy who ice his forehead and nose for him.
“Oh
no! TP! I've hurt TP.” Writer
Lady yells in despair.
Tinkletoes
looks up at Writer Lady, glares at her for a minute and rolls his
eyes.
“Don't
worry Writer Lady. I caught him before he hit the wall.” Paige
approaches carrying the faerie in her palm. TP's breathing is
labored, his cone shaped clown hat is dangling from one ear. The
faerie is muttering strange words in between breaths but seems no
worse for the wear.
“Oh
you poor little thing. I'm so sorry.”
Tinkletoes
rolls his eyes again.
“Do
you need anything TP?”
TP
looks down at Tinkletoes. Tinkletoes looks at TP and growls.
TP
grins widely at Tinkletoes...