"How else can you think of them? Look at Quackie and Queenie. You can see their anticipation. They're speaking to us. Don't be like most people and ignore all the communications. If you can understand the basic language and you free yourself of the obstacles, you can hear more important or deeper things in the world around you Didn't you ever feel that way?" he asked. He looked as if he was hoping for the right answer.
I thought about the day Daddy died and the sea gull that had acted so strangely and had given me an eerie, cold feeling.
"Yes," I admitted.
"So there you are. Grace Houston, You're weird. too."
We stared at each other for a moment, and then I laughed. "You're still weirder than I am." I insisted,
"If-weird means better at communicating with the world around me, I agree. But if you will let me. I'll show you how to be better at it,"
I looked away. "I'm not sure I want to communicate more with this world," I muttered.
'You lost your father in a terrible accident. I know what happened and why you and your mother moved here," he revealed in a single breath.
I looked up quickly.
"Mrs. Dorahush knows all," he declared, deepening his voice to pretend some supernatural events had occurred. "I'm sorry for you. I know you're very despondent, but if you learn to listen and see, you will realize your father isn't gone. He's just another form of energy now. He still communicates with you."
I squinted skeptically.
"I know, you're thinking I'm talking about all that silliness with seances and all, but this is
different." he said, turning and raising his arm as if he was some Old Testament prophet. "It's out there, and it's in here," he said, spinning and poking me just above my breast. "C'mon." he added, before I could complain, "I'll show you some magic."
He started away and paused. "Don't be afraid." "Where are we going?"
"To my laboratory, where I have created Frankenstein." he said. imitating Boris Karloff in a scary old movie. It made me laugh. I glanced back at the patio. Inside the condo Mommy was watching television, diverting her mind, following her favorite soap opera again.
"Okay," I said, "but I can't be too long."
He took long strides, his hair bouncing about his face. He was still barefoot. Today he wore a Tshirt with a picture of an atomic bomb explosion. Underneath was written. "Let there be light."
"Where do you get your T-shirts?" I asked him.
"I make them myself," he said. "I can make you whatever you want. or I'll give you one I've made. I've got a closet full. One size fits all."
We stopped at one of the bigger units. He looked around as if he were contemplating a burglary.
"Anything wrong?" I asked, still quite neryous about following him.
"I don't want to spook you." he said. "but not everything in the world is good. There are dark forces. too. Occasionally I sense them. I just wanted to be sure, that's all. We're clear," he said, and walked up to the patio door. He opened it and turned to me.
Dark forces? Was he teasing me, or did he really mean it? "This is it." he said nodding at the patio door.
It occurred to me that my mother had no idea where I was, and there was no one around to see me go into this home.
"I'll leave the door open if it makes you feel better, although it will probably be more of an invitation to bugs," he said, reading my mind.
I was thinking up a good excuse to leave quickly when suddenly I heard a voice, and a tall gray-haired woman appeared. She had her hair dawn in a rather long ponytail for someone who looked to be well into her late sixties, maybe seventy. She wore a one-piece house dress with a flower pattern and a pair of light blue sandals.
"Augustus, why are you leaving the door open?" she asked him, and then she saw me. "Oh! Is this..."
"Grace Houston, yes, Grandma." he told her.
She smiled at me. "Welcome. dear. You should come in quickly. We've had trouble with mosquitoes lately."
I walked in. and Augustus closed the door.