"Dancing with the Devil." | Larry Stylinson. TRANSLATION

XXI. "For The Good Times"

1954.

—Would you like some tea, Mrs. Styles?

She laughed at the formal tone her little daughter had used to refer to her, and after nodding with a little smile, Gemma Styles pretended to serve tea from her plastic teapot into a small pink cup.

The day was a work of art. It was neither cold nor hot. There was a beautiful sun, and the two had decided to put a tablecloth on the grass in the backyard and play tea party. Jacky, Anne Styles' sister-in-law, was there too, but a little further away, carefully watching the five-year-old boy who kept running in circles and laughing out loud.

—Harry, darling, —Jacky started, wanting him to stop for a bit, and was about to warn him to stay out, but the curly-haired boy headed for the house in between bursts of breath.

Anne immediately stood up and looked at her daughter because of the whine she let out. —I'll be right back, honey. I'll just get your brother, while you make me another cup of tea, please. —She pretended to drink everything in the cup and squeal because it was so hot. Gemma laughed before taking the little cup away from her mother and starting to make more tea for her and her bears.

When Anne entered the house, she found Harry running in circles around the sofa, looking behind him from time to time and shrieking with excitement, only to burst out laughing.

—You won't catch me, you won't catch me! —He made fun of something that wasn't there.

Anne sighed. Her five-year-old son was an earthquake.

The curly boy looked straight ahead and stopped running, looking at something in front of him and shrieking with more excitement before heading in the opposite direction, climbing onto the sofa and getting into a fetal position while hiding his face with his little hands.

Jacky, who was entering the house, laughed when he saw his nephew that way and approached him. —What's wrong with the baby? He's running so fast.

—Harry, honey. Don't run like that, please. —She approached her son and took him in her arms with care. He was hiding on his mother's shoulder. —You can fall and... Who are you hiding from, you rascal? —Her baby giggled before watching his mother with a sweet smile and dimples visible on his blushing cheeks.

—From his imaginary friend. —Jacky said sitting on the couch. Anne leaves a kiss on her little boy's face before she lets go, and Harry seems to look for something with his eyes before his eyes light up and he starts running again. —He's so cheerful, it's contagious.

—Mommy! —Her daughter was calling from the courtyard, tired of waiting so long.

—On my way, Gemma. —She observed her child. —Hazzie. Baby, Can you pay attention to me? —Harry watches her for just a few seconds before he keeps running and screaming. Anne sighs again.

—Go with Gemma, —her sister-in-law said, taking the newspaper that was on the couch and settling down on it to start reading it. —I'll take care of him.

—Jacky, don't feel obliged to stay here. Harry can come to the yard, can't you, Harry? —The boy didn't even hear her, now he was hiding behind the sofa, concentrating on not making a sound.

—I don't feel obliged, Anne. I like to watch him play, —she says, and looks sideways at the diary, turning a page when she sees nothing interesting.

—Let me know if you need anything. —Again her daughter calls, and she heads back out into the yard. —Here I am, love!

Jacky sighs before looking at Harry again as he laughs and circles the couch, diving to the floor and grabbing his aunt's leg, closing his little eyes tightly. —You won't catch me, you... you ticklish monster!