It was two weeks after the fire. I had just finished collecting eggs, so Uncle Peter told me I could take a break while he picked up a load of fish from the houseboat. I went into the main house and waited for him. But three hours later, he still had not returned. I grew worried.
I walked to the dock and was informed that Tabitha had JUST moved from the Houseboat to the Bad Dad house. I was surprised. I expected she would have been very lonely there by herself.
So I went to the Bad Dad house. I knocked on the door.
I heard the sound of panicked whispers, giggling, and feet shuffling.
"Who is it?!?" yelped Uncle Peter.
"Abraham Lincoln!" I answered, "Who else could it be?!
"I'll be right there!" he replied, a note of alarm in his voice.
I leaned forward to hear better. The stillness of the air helped to carry sound. "Oh no!" whispered Tabitha sarcastically, "SAMBER might catch us! What if she tells Mr. Roper?! We could lose our lease!"
Eventually Uncle Peter slid out the front door and closed it behind him. "Hi," he blushed.
"Where have you been?" I miffed. "You told me you were going to the river HOURS ago. Did you fall in?"
"I got a little sidetracked."
"With what?"
"I moved Tabitha from the houseboat to here."
"Why?" I asked, arms folded.
"Er... She was tired of living on the houseboat. She... was looking for a change. That's all."
I appraised him from head to toe. "Why move her here and not to the Main House?"
"There's ...um, there's more room here. This might not even be permanent, really. She just wants to get away from Jackie and her stepfather for a while. Like a vacation... Tabitha needs the space. She wants privacy. When she asked to move, I thought it was a reasonable request, considering there's room. I wanted to be nice... Okay?"
A beat passed.
"I'm sorry, Uncle Peter," I replied. "Could you repeat that? I was unable to hear you over the sound of your talking penis."
Several beats passed.
"So you don't approve?"
"I don't approve of you ditching me for three hours when we have work to do."
"I sincerely apologize for that. It won't happen again."
"Apology accepted. We've a busy afternoon ahead of us. Let's get to it. But first, zip up your fly."
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Agoraphobia
General FictionA heroic eleven-year-old girl struggles to survive in a dying world plagued by a contagious form of agoraphobia (fear of being outside).