his arm completely submerging in the water nearly up to his shoulder.
Cleo was barking now, but not angrily. He was excited and circled and yapped as if he was finally part of something that was fun. Elliot crawled to his feet, the cigarette soaked and dangling from his lips. He thought a moment, and then he smiled, scooped up some water, and heaved it in my direction. I backed away to avoid it.
"You're not getting away with this," he said, laughing, and he started for me again. One thing I didn't want was for him to throw me into the water.
I turned and ran into the woods. Cleo charging behind and barking and Elliot following and yelling, "C'mon, nature boy. Its your turn to have a bath."
I ran as fast as I could. and I should have been able to pull away from him easily because these were my woods and I knew every path and clearing, but my panic made me sloppy and careless. I was charging through brush that slowed me down. By the time I reached the next clearing. Elliot was right behind me. He leaped at me, tackling me around my knees, and we both slammed into the weeds and wild grass. We rolled about for a moment, he trying to get my arms pinned. I squirmed and pushed at him, but he was over me and was able to hold me down. We were both breathing so hard, we couldn't talk for a moment.
He moved his legs so that he could put his knees on my upper arms and hold me firmly to the ground, while he sat back on my stomach.
"Okay now, you going to stop this crap or what?"
"Let me up," I cried.
"Not yet. I want to know some stuff first."
"Let me up," I said, straggling. He weighed too much for me to move him.
Cleo sat by, panting and watching with excitement. Why wasn't he angry? I wondered. Where was my spiritual protection?
"What do you really do for fun? You don't just fish and study and work a garden, do you?"
"Yes,'" I said.
"Bull. You have to have some other kind of excitement. Is your mother really a witch?"
"If she is, you better worry, becauseIll have her put a spell on you," I said as threateningly as I could. He started to laugh and then stopped. I could feel him relaxing his grip
"I don't believe in that stuff." he said, and he moved his legs off my arms. He looked a bit concerned. "Come on, tell the truth."
"My mother isn't a witch," I said, rubbing my arms and turning away from him. He sat back. Cleo, the traitor, snuggled up next to him.
"So why do people make up all those stories about her casting spells and having secret
ceremonies?"
"They're just jealous and mean because were independent people." I said.
"What's that weird thing on your front door?" he asked, wiping his sleeve over his muddied face.
"It's nothing. My mother believes in some things, but she's not a witch. Anyway, if you saw that, you must be the one peeping, not me."
"I just happened to see it this morning. I was looking for you. Did you get an earful last night spying on us? And don't deny it again. I saw you at the window. You heard what we were saying. Well?"
"No. I didn't get any earful of anything. I just went there to see if you were telling the truth, that you really did buy the property and move in."
He sat back. petted Cleo, and looked at his pack of soaked cigarettes.
"Thanks a lot," he said. "It's not easy sneaking cigarettes into my house."
"You shouldn't be smoking anyway," I told him. He shook his head at me.
"I suppose you don't do anything that's supposedly bad for you."
"No. I don't."
"No drinking, no smoking, no pot or anything?"