As for this installment, it comes from the phrase "the museum," given to the world at large by Poetigress as part of her Thursday Prompt program.
The spell was broken by El Brujo, of course, smacking me in
the nose with her tail. "A wave, perhaps? Or even--dare I say
it?--a vocal salutation of some sort?"
But Deena spoke up first. "Hi, Gus!"
It took me a couple seconds, but I did manage to flail a
hand at her and even--dare I say it?--squeezed out the word,
"Hi!"
She flipped the ball over her shoulder, Heather scrambling
after with little canine shouts of, "I got it! I got it!"
"You're early," Deena said while Heather leaped onto the
ball and commenced wrestling with it: she wasn't that much
larger than the thing, actually. "You...you wanna come in?
Dad's still finishing up the dishes."
I was already shaking--well, it was either me or Serena.
The squirrel had ducked back into my jacket after her near run-
in with El Brujo, and I know from experience how long it can
take to recover from that. "Inside?" I managed to say,
and the concept just plain wouldn't settle in my brain, like one
of those annoying little puzzles where you're supposed to swish
metal marbles around till they fall into their holes.
"Yeah." She tapped her chin, then her eyes lit up. "You
can come in through the garage and the kitchen; there's no steps
that way." She moved up onto the porch. "Gimme minute, and
I'll open the door." And she vanished into the house.
Heather was staring after her. "But...we were playing..."
Then her gaze wandered over to me, still sitting in my chair
like a bump on a pickle just outside the front gate, and her
eyes lit up, too. "Mr. Augie! You've got hands!" She
grabbed the ball in her teeth, somehow lifted it, and began
trotting through the grass.
"Inside?" I said again, and I grabbed El Brujo, something
she discourages rather sharply under normal circumstances, and
pulled her against my chest so I could look right into those
dark, half-closed eyes. "She wants me to go inside!"
"August,--"
"Inside! Her house! Me!"
"--might I suggest--"
"When was the last time I was inside a house?? I mean, a
house that wasn't mostly a hospital??"
"--you calm yourself--"
"What if I spaz out?? Start farting or drooling or go into
convulsions or--??"
"--before I become upset?" She seemed to puff up a bit in
my arms, and I could suddenly feel the tippy-tips of her claws
resting gently against my throat.
And it's amazing how something so small can grab a person's
attention so completely. "But what'll I do??" I
squeaked, letting her slide back down my chest into my lap.
She rolled her eyes and bent around to lick the base of her
tail. "Serena and I will be with you since I'm sure she
would've mentioned by now if she or her father were allergic to
cats or squirrels, and--"
"No!" Serena cried. I suddenly felt like a pinball machine
as she ricocheted around for a few seconds inside my jacket,
then she popped out over my lapel and scrambled to perch on top
of my head. "I have done many things for you, Mr. Augie, but I
will not enter this building at this time!"
I wanted to stare at her, but, well, that wasn't physically
possible at the moment. So I just looked at the shocked El
Brujo when I asked, "But...you went into my building earlier,
Serena. How's this building any different?"
"In every possible way!" She tapped her little feet
against my scalp. "You had guaranteed my safety in your
building, and El Brujo almost ate me nonetheless! What,
therefore, can I expect from this building??"
"You--!" I started to say, but by then Heather and her ball
had reached the front gate.
"Mr. Augie!" She set the ball down and stood with her
front paws resting on it, the tiny pink triangle of her tongue
jutting out from the brown fuzz of her face, her tail looking
more like a hummingbird's wing behind her. "The rules are very
simple! You throw the ball, and--"
"Yes, Heather," I told her. "I'm familiar with the
concept. But--"
Gears grinding drew my attention back to the house, the
garage door lifting to reveal the mini-van I'd seen parked in
the driveway a few times. Deena stepped outside, her smile
going sideways. "You know you've got a squirrel on your head?"
That seemed to call for an answer, but the one I actually
said--"It's better than some places she's been."--struck
me as the wrong one the instant it left my lips.
El Brujo winced, and I decided there was nothing I could do
to make this evening not turn out like some weird Laurel and
Hardy sketch. "OK," I said in animal talk. "Serena, you'll
stay out here and play with Heather. Try not to break each
other or anything else."
"Hooray!" they both shouted at the same time, and Serena
leaped from my head onto the gate that surrounded the front
yard. Heather turned and scampered like mad through the lumpy
tufts of grass, and Serena took off after her, the two quickly
rounding the far corner of the house.
I took a breath, looked at Deena, her smile still sideways,
but at least she wasn't screaming or calling the cops. "So.
Inside, you said?"
She nodded and gestured toward the garage. "Yeah. I wanna
show you the museum."
Which then happens in 27.
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