9.
 Marie was shaking again. "Joe Walsh was killed in the Korean War. I think we are losing our minds."
"You may be losing yours, but I know a prank when I see one," Bernie said. They made tea, and she brought out her apple snap cookies, and they watched television until they both fell asleep.
They awakened at midnight, when the station they had been watching switched to loud hip hop music, and the wall clock chimed the twelve strokes of midnight. Bernie and Marie sat sleepy and confused, almost paralyzed, as they thought about gathering the energy to climb the stairs to bed.
On the last stroke, Marie bit herself painfully on the tongue, and leaned forward with a wail of "Ouch!"
Bernie rubbed his eyes, opened them, and saw the little blonde girl with the tartan ribbon in her hair. "Hey, are we supposed to be up this late?" He jumped from the chair.
Marie scolded him. "You made me do this. I know you did." She shot bolts of anger at the slender boy standing before her with his short brown hair and serious face in a tall, gangly body. "Bernie Snodgrass, I hate you sometimes."
"I think we're supposed to be in bed," he said.
She put her finger over her lips. "Everyone's asleep. They don't know we are down here. Come on!" She extended her hand.
"Where are we going?" he said as she towed him out the front door.
"I know where we can get cake and milk."
Together, they ran along the moonlit sidewalks with limitless energy—two energetic, carefree children of 8 or 9 years old, wearing jeans and saddle shoes and thick flannel shirts. The girl wore a torn pink cotton play dress over the jeans but under the jacket. Moonlight poured over them brighter than the street lamps in the chilly October air. Their cheeks were red, and their eyes glowed as their breath escaped in ragged streaks of vapor.
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Thank you for reading. If you love it, tell your friends. Please post a favorable review at Amazon, Good Reads, and other online resources. If you want to thank the author, you may also buy a copy for the low price of a cup of coffee. It's called Read-a-Latte: similar (or lower) price as a latte at your favorite coffeeshop, but the book lasts forever while the beverage is quickly gone. Thank you (JTC).
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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