I was at the lake in the trailer and the windows were dirty, so I rubbed a pillow across one and it was brown and dusty colored. I told grandpa and dad to powerwash the windows. They did. Meanwhile, some adult black woman with a can of beer had a cup-o-noodles that I;d seen earlier, except she added the later. It was spaghetti and red-sauce.

We (mother and I) were looking at our plants in our yard (sort-of) and wondering why they were blooming oddly. It got darker out, and a talking bee came and visited us. It took one look at the pear tree, turned a branch into hollow glass, and broke it off. "Tree is happy now." Then she turned into a mature Maddie MacDonald. We went inside, and Maddiebee drew some blood out of my right forefinger, showing me the marks she made with the aid of a violet flashlight with many small beams shaped like wildflowers. Then we heard a noise upstairs. Maddiebee hid under a chair (she was small) and I grabbed Mom and sat on the piano bench, her on my lap, me leaning againsthe keys. They made no sound, and I was glad. Father yelled from the upsyairs hallway: "Kaaaathyyy!?" and then the piano decided to make noise. I heard him some running, and I prepared to fend him off. He turned on the lights and said: "Why are you doiwn here in the middle of the night?"

"We were having a sleep around," I calmly replied.

He seemed satisfied and left.

Maddiebee let out a sigh of relief.