|
|||||||||
|
Chessville
Advertise to Single insert:
|
The Kennedy Kids: Mary Elizabeth, Jon & Matt
“Matt?” I shook my sleeping big brother. “Matt!” “Wha….?” he said, not quite awake. “What’s up??” He propped his head up with one arm. The clock in his bedroom said 2:26. “Nightmare” I told him. “Scary?” “Very!” I rubbed my eyes. Must have been the sleep in them. “Talk to Mom?” “I tried. When I told her it had Mr. Scratch in it, she said to get some calamine lotion. Then she rolled over. I’m not sure she was ever really awake.” “Dad?” “My dream had chess in it, too. You know when Dad talks about chess, he puts everyone to sleep. I don’t want to go back to sleep. Not yet. You’re the only one I could talk to about it.” “Lucky me,” Matt groaned, but he sat up. “Scratch. Beelzebub. Satan. The Devil. Some dream, eh?” I nodded. “I was in this horrid chess club. It was dark and dreary and it smelled terrible. The chess set had all these nasty beasts for pieces…” “And, let me guess, you were supposed to play a game of chess with him.” I grabbed myself and shivered. “You were going to play for your immortal soul, too?” How he knew that was beyond me. Big brothers. I smiled weakly. “Tell me the deal he offered you, Mary.” “That was the second scariest part of my dream,” I told him. “He said he didn’t want to play today, but that sometime in the next week – when I wasn’t expecting it – he would surprise me with a game. And he would win it, and I would be doomed for all eternity.” My sniffles returned. (Did I ever tell you I had allergies?) Matt listened closely. He got this smart look on his face. “What was the scariest part?” I swallowed. “Just then, Jon arrived.” Our little brother. His picture is next to the word “pest” in the dictionary. “Figures,” said Matt, with the hint of a smile. “You don’t understand! Jon talked with the demon. Then there was this flash of light, and only Jon was there. He said everything would be ok.” “Really?” “Jon said it never would have worked out. The chess game couldn’t happen on Saturday because that would be the last day of the week, and since it hadn’t happened before it wouldn’t be a surprise then. He said it couldn’t happen on Friday either, because if it hadn’t happened up until then, it wouldn’t have been a surprise on that day, either.” “Wait a minute…” “So he said for the same reason it couldn’t happen on Thursday, or Wednesday…” “Or Tuesday, or Monday, or Sunday,” Matt finished. “Otherwise it wouldn’t be a surprise. Wicked.” “I hate when he does that,” I said, stamping my foot. “Kinda scary, huh?” “Terrifying.” “Ah, Mary,” reassured Matt, “Just keep telling yourself – ‘it was only a dream, it was only a dream.’ ” That helped. “Thanks, Matt.” And I was finally able to go back to sleep.
|
The Chessville
The
|
|||||||
|
|||||||||
