What a lovely day yesterday was for the Maine crew. We ate and drank and got smoked out by the campfire. Our booms were loud and our sparks were lovely, too. The man at the fireworks store did right by us and not only did we enjoy our little show, but some neighbors at the house down the road threw down, too.
It’s always nice to see everybody up here. Cousins Hal and Sylvia were in attendance, as were Ned and Ellen and Will and the Cleveland crew. Good to see those guys, for sure, and Paul. Michelle and Blaine came, too, with Nancy, Kyle, Angel, and Mel in tow. Good to see them all, too. Even if it is once a year, it recharges certain batteries that I sometimes forget I need. Handshakes and hugs and laughs…they are the best.
Today is a lazy day. Cleaning up is going to happen at some point, although most happened yesterday. We might go out on the boat for a while, too. The lake is so beautiful right now and who knows? Maybe it will even be a good day for jumping in and freezing a bit. The sun is certainly warm enough to take the chill out of the top few feet of water, but that’s probably wishful thinking.
The overcast skies of the last few weeks have probably made the lake a bit too cold for any lengthy swimming sessions just yet. I really want to get in it, though. Last couple of years have just been too cold. We will definitely go swimming in Worthley Pond, though, at some point. 20 days to play with and counting.
The deep breath Marcy took before she opened Winny’s closet door was one for the record books. She had almost gotten used to Jimmy being in her head and now with him gone, she was scared of what he might look like as he waited for her on the other side of the door. Exhaling slowly and silently, she steadied her trembling hand on the handle.
The door squeaked open.
“Damn it, Paul,” she thought. Marcy had been asking Paul to oil several of the doors in the house for two months now, but the squeaks were still there as if on cue. Horror movie 101.
Rather than hit the light, Marcy had hoped her eyes were adjusted enough to the dark room that she could see him without turning on the light.
“Jimmy, I …”
Marcy stopped talking as soon as she saw the closet was empty of any movie characters, both living or imagined.
“He’s gone, baby,” she said instead.
“Can I come sleep with you and Daddy?”
“Aww, Poo. I bet you’re going to sleep just fine. It was just a bad dream, I think,” said Marcy as she walked back to Winny’s bed to kiss her forehead. As Marcy knelt down to do so, she saw the most peculiar thing. Winny was already back to sleep and appeared to be sleeping very peacefully.
Marcy kissed Winny’s forehead anyway and whispered, “Mama loves you” to her daughter as she tiptoed back toward the closet door. With less hesitation than before, she opened it again and stuck her head inside.
“Jimmy,” she whispered.
No response came from the closet.
“Leave my fucking daughter alone, Jimmy.”
Still no response from the closet.
Feeling a little more confident, Marcy decided to go back to bed without noticing the small slip of paper on the closet floor. In an almost illegible scrawl, there was a note written on it. It read, “You bet I couldn’t fuck off, but I’m winning.”
See you tomorrow.
This was the end of the night.