dead.
Head cut off. His small brown body, red rim above the shoulders, lay by the bricks, four legs curled inwards, as deflated as shrimp legs. A yard away on the wooden floor, his tall-eared head, pink tongue lolling, black eyes staring.
“The ghost did that. I discovered it when I came home for lunch.”
Tom put his hand to his mouth. “No way.”
“Yeah. I told you the ghost is an angry ghost, but now he’s gotten really angry.”
Tom looked around the attic, looked behind his back. “What’s he so angry about?”
“The ghost doesn’t like that you and your dad might be moving in here. He likes it where it’s just me and my mom. He asked me, if he did something to you and your dad, something like what he did to this puppy, would I get over it? Would I be willing to find a new friend?”
Tom looked spooked. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him, yeah, I would.” Peter leaned closer to Tom, upper arm against Tom’s upper arm. He lowered his voice to a warm whisper. “But I was lying to the ghost. I had my fingers crossed behind my back. I wouldn’t kill you. Or your dad.”
Tom was shaking.
Peter slid his arm across the back of Tom’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
“I can protect myself!”
“No, you can’t. Look what the ghost did to this little dog. Only I can protect you. Let’s go downstairs and get in bed together. We’ll be safer there.”
They lay together in Peter’s bed, under the blankets, in their pajamas.
Tom had never been in bed with another person before. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“We have to hold each other. Lay in my arms.”
“No!”
“Do it, or it’ll get you, just like it got that puppy!”
Tom, scared, let Peter put his arms around him. Put his arms around Peter.
“Let me check to make sure the ghost isn’t in your pajamas. Ghosts love to play in boys’ pajamas.” Peter put his hands between the buttons of Tom’s pajama top, onto his bare chest, pinching his nipples. Slid his hands under the waistband of Tom’s pajama pants, feeling the insides of his bare thighs.
Tom swung his head around on his pillow. “I don’t like it!”
The bedside phone rang.
Peter pulled his big right hand out from under Tom’s waistband, lifted the receiver. Listened. “Okay.” Listened some more. In a high voice he said, “I love you.” He hung up. Slipped his hand back under Tom’s waistband. “That was my mom.”
“When’s she coming home?”
“She’s not. She said she’s staying over her girlfriend’s, to bake enough funeral cakes for tomorrow’s block party. But we know what she’s really doing. I think your dad had his penis inside my mom’s butt while she was talking to me.”
“I doubt it!”
“So it’s just you and me tonight.”
Tom drew square after square under the sheets. “Well, I guess we should just go to sleep now. My eyelids are really heavy.”
“Maybe not just yet.”
“Did you say something? I was asleep.”
“Lift your rear end. I want to slide this plastic sheet underneath your body.”
Tom lifted his rear end. “Why do you want to do that?”
“Are you kidding? Ghosts hate plastic. You didn’t know that? Seriously? Ghosts are really old-fashioned. Plastic is too modern.”
“I may have read it somewhere, but I wasn’t sure it was proven.”
“Oh, it is. I’m going to put my knife blade against your throat, but that’s only to protect you, so I can cut the ghost if it tries to climb in your mouth.”
Tom rolled his head back, panicking. “It hurts! It hurts!”
“That’s something about my mom, huh? She pays for the hotel room? She eats chicken, while your dad gets to eat filet mignon? She’s pretty fucking desperate, huh?”
Tom rolled his head further back on his pillow, sucking air through his nostrils, to keep his throat off the sharp line of the blade. His eyes bugged. “Is that your penis? Why is it so sticky?”
Peter came back from his own thoughts. “I
Head cut off. His small brown body, red rim above the shoulders, lay by the bricks, four legs curled inwards, as deflated as shrimp legs. A yard away on the wooden floor, his tall-eared head, pink tongue lolling, black eyes staring.
“The ghost did that. I discovered it when I came home for lunch.”
Tom put his hand to his mouth. “No way.”
“Yeah. I told you the ghost is an angry ghost, but now he’s gotten really angry.”
Tom looked around the attic, looked behind his back. “What’s he so angry about?”
“The ghost doesn’t like that you and your dad might be moving in here. He likes it where it’s just me and my mom. He asked me, if he did something to you and your dad, something like what he did to this puppy, would I get over it? Would I be willing to find a new friend?”
Tom looked spooked. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him, yeah, I would.” Peter leaned closer to Tom, upper arm against Tom’s upper arm. He lowered his voice to a warm whisper. “But I was lying to the ghost. I had my fingers crossed behind my back. I wouldn’t kill you. Or your dad.”
Tom was shaking.
Peter slid his arm across the back of Tom’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you.”
“I can protect myself!”
“No, you can’t. Look what the ghost did to this little dog. Only I can protect you. Let’s go downstairs and get in bed together. We’ll be safer there.”
They lay together in Peter’s bed, under the blankets, in their pajamas.
Tom had never been in bed with another person before. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it.
“We have to hold each other. Lay in my arms.”
“No!”
“Do it, or it’ll get you, just like it got that puppy!”
Tom, scared, let Peter put his arms around him. Put his arms around Peter.
“Let me check to make sure the ghost isn’t in your pajamas. Ghosts love to play in boys’ pajamas.” Peter put his hands between the buttons of Tom’s pajama top, onto his bare chest, pinching his nipples. Slid his hands under the waistband of Tom’s pajama pants, feeling the insides of his bare thighs.
Tom swung his head around on his pillow. “I don’t like it!”
The bedside phone rang.
Peter pulled his big right hand out from under Tom’s waistband, lifted the receiver. Listened. “Okay.” Listened some more. In a high voice he said, “I love you.” He hung up. Slipped his hand back under Tom’s waistband. “That was my mom.”
“When’s she coming home?”
“She’s not. She said she’s staying over her girlfriend’s, to bake enough funeral cakes for tomorrow’s block party. But we know what she’s really doing. I think your dad had his penis inside my mom’s butt while she was talking to me.”
“I doubt it!”
“So it’s just you and me tonight.”
Tom drew square after square under the sheets. “Well, I guess we should just go to sleep now. My eyelids are really heavy.”
“Maybe not just yet.”
“Did you say something? I was asleep.”
“Lift your rear end. I want to slide this plastic sheet underneath your body.”
Tom lifted his rear end. “Why do you want to do that?”
“Are you kidding? Ghosts hate plastic. You didn’t know that? Seriously? Ghosts are really old-fashioned. Plastic is too modern.”
“I may have read it somewhere, but I wasn’t sure it was proven.”
“Oh, it is. I’m going to put my knife blade against your throat, but that’s only to protect you, so I can cut the ghost if it tries to climb in your mouth.”
Tom rolled his head back, panicking. “It hurts! It hurts!”
“That’s something about my mom, huh? She pays for the hotel room? She eats chicken, while your dad gets to eat filet mignon? She’s pretty fucking desperate, huh?”
Tom rolled his head further back on his pillow, sucking air through his nostrils, to keep his throat off the sharp line of the blade. His eyes bugged. “Is that your penis? Why is it so sticky?”
Peter came back from his own thoughts. “I
Similar Books
