life.
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Chapter Five
Scary Summons
Saturday morning sunlight filtered through the Venetian blinds and filled Vicki's bedroom. She awoke and found Paul sleeping in her overstuffed chair next to the room's window.
"Paulie. Wake up.” She shook Paul's shoulder. “Why are you sleeping here?"
Paul awoke thinking he would find himself in his own bed. Instead he sat in the comfortable chair next to Vicki's bedroom window. Then he remembered. “I had a dream. Don't laugh, Sis. You were being kidnapped... by a gorilla."
She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “Wake up, my King. Your queen is safe and the gorilla has been returned to the zoo."
Vicki's amused-puzzled look made Paul feel silly. “We don't need to mention this to Dad, right?” A blush heated his face and migrated to his ears.
"I'll make it a point.” She giggled.
Paul raised from the chair and started to leave.
"Paulie,” she whispered and Paul paused at the door. “Thank you."
Paul returned to his room with a smile branded onto his face. Perhaps no one ever acted so goofy about a dream. His dad once said: ‘If you never make a mistake, you have never tried to do anything.’ A big shadow called Claude Nab saying it ingested little girls? Another of his dad's teachings: ‘Humor cures even itself.’ He'd have to ask his dad what he meant, but figured it somehow fit the present situation.
Afternoon smiled with springtime blue skies and puffy clouds as Paul walked to Morristown Park with his dad, Harry Winsome. They enjoyed the Saturday ritual whenever Harry proclaimed it to be a cloud-riding sky, a day to allow the imagination to identify cloud shapes. Sitting on a secluded park grassy hillside, they watched billowing clouds drift across the sky, distant winds changing their shapes.
Studying clouds might sound boring to some of his schoolmates if he chose to tell them about these Saturday outings with his dad, but such outings were totally fascinating when viewed with someone as imaginative as Harry Winsome. Paul especially liked the vantage point of the grassy hill. Free from any auto traffic and its fumes, the grass aroma perfumed the senses.
"That one looks like a fat monster,” Paul said, pointing to a large white shifting shape. “Like maybe he'd like to gobble up all the other clouds around him."
"And what does the cloud beside your monster look like, Son?"
"Like a horse on steroids."
Harry laughed. “It could be a unicorn. Your oversized monster might be an oversized leprechaun.” He smiled. “On steroids.” He grinned and touched Paul's shoulder. “What do you see now?"
"Still see a fat monster and a big old horse."
"Your perception is your reality. And if your monster gobbled up my unicorn, what would you have then? A monster with a horn?"
They fell back against the grass. For the hundredth time Harry Winsome talked about perception being reality. Yet his dad tried to tell him something of more importance, a teaching beyond the fun they enjoyed on their ritual outing—a lesson more serious than determining the shape of a fat cloud monster and an oversized cloud horse.
"Is there more, Dad?"
"Time is a mysterious traveler, Son. We ride within its boundaries, an illusion-filled journey delivering its answers on its own schedule."
"You're telling me to wait and the answer will come in time?"
"In what we call time."
They laughed. His dad could be so funny and serious at the same moment. He asked his mother about it once and she answered, “Paul, your father is a complex man. It's not for us to know, darling. We just have to listen and learn.” She smiled and patted him on his head, as if she had provided the wealth of knowledge necessary to understand the intricate diversities of Harry Winsome.
As Harry studied the clouds, Paul scooted over next to him. He lifted himself off the grass, rapped his arms around Harry's shoulders and attempted to push him backward onto the grass. He instantly
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Five
Scary Summons
Saturday morning sunlight filtered through the Venetian blinds and filled Vicki's bedroom. She awoke and found Paul sleeping in her overstuffed chair next to the room's window.
"Paulie. Wake up.” She shook Paul's shoulder. “Why are you sleeping here?"
Paul awoke thinking he would find himself in his own bed. Instead he sat in the comfortable chair next to Vicki's bedroom window. Then he remembered. “I had a dream. Don't laugh, Sis. You were being kidnapped... by a gorilla."
She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “Wake up, my King. Your queen is safe and the gorilla has been returned to the zoo."
Vicki's amused-puzzled look made Paul feel silly. “We don't need to mention this to Dad, right?” A blush heated his face and migrated to his ears.
"I'll make it a point.” She giggled.
Paul raised from the chair and started to leave.
"Paulie,” she whispered and Paul paused at the door. “Thank you."
Paul returned to his room with a smile branded onto his face. Perhaps no one ever acted so goofy about a dream. His dad once said: ‘If you never make a mistake, you have never tried to do anything.’ A big shadow called Claude Nab saying it ingested little girls? Another of his dad's teachings: ‘Humor cures even itself.’ He'd have to ask his dad what he meant, but figured it somehow fit the present situation.
Afternoon smiled with springtime blue skies and puffy clouds as Paul walked to Morristown Park with his dad, Harry Winsome. They enjoyed the Saturday ritual whenever Harry proclaimed it to be a cloud-riding sky, a day to allow the imagination to identify cloud shapes. Sitting on a secluded park grassy hillside, they watched billowing clouds drift across the sky, distant winds changing their shapes.
Studying clouds might sound boring to some of his schoolmates if he chose to tell them about these Saturday outings with his dad, but such outings were totally fascinating when viewed with someone as imaginative as Harry Winsome. Paul especially liked the vantage point of the grassy hill. Free from any auto traffic and its fumes, the grass aroma perfumed the senses.
"That one looks like a fat monster,” Paul said, pointing to a large white shifting shape. “Like maybe he'd like to gobble up all the other clouds around him."
"And what does the cloud beside your monster look like, Son?"
"Like a horse on steroids."
Harry laughed. “It could be a unicorn. Your oversized monster might be an oversized leprechaun.” He smiled. “On steroids.” He grinned and touched Paul's shoulder. “What do you see now?"
"Still see a fat monster and a big old horse."
"Your perception is your reality. And if your monster gobbled up my unicorn, what would you have then? A monster with a horn?"
They fell back against the grass. For the hundredth time Harry Winsome talked about perception being reality. Yet his dad tried to tell him something of more importance, a teaching beyond the fun they enjoyed on their ritual outing—a lesson more serious than determining the shape of a fat cloud monster and an oversized cloud horse.
"Is there more, Dad?"
"Time is a mysterious traveler, Son. We ride within its boundaries, an illusion-filled journey delivering its answers on its own schedule."
"You're telling me to wait and the answer will come in time?"
"In what we call time."
They laughed. His dad could be so funny and serious at the same moment. He asked his mother about it once and she answered, “Paul, your father is a complex man. It's not for us to know, darling. We just have to listen and learn.” She smiled and patted him on his head, as if she had provided the wealth of knowledge necessary to understand the intricate diversities of Harry Winsome.
As Harry studied the clouds, Paul scooted over next to him. He lifted himself off the grass, rapped his arms around Harry's shoulders and attempted to push him backward onto the grass. He instantly
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