“Hey, Bill.”
“Hey.”
“How are things?”
“Good. Good.”
“What are you up to these days?”
“Oh, the usual. Can’t
find my wife lately.”
“Karen?”
“Yep. That’s the one.”
“Hm.”
“Hey, would you look at that?”
“What?”
“Next to that big weather vane.”
“The chimney?”
“No, no, to the right
of the big weather vane.”
“Oh, you mean the house that’s violently shaking and making
an earsplitting noise?”
“Yep. That’s the one.”
“I’ll be derned. It’s
shooting up into the sky.”
“Hm.”
“Would you look at those flames.”
“Hm.”
“Like a little rocket.”
“A house rocket.”
“Yeah.”
“Say, that looks an awful lot like your house, doesn’t it.”
“Hm. No. My house is
three stories and it doesn’t have an attic.”
“…No. No, it is only two stories. And I’ve been in your attic.”
“Really?”
“Hm.”
“Isn’t my house blue? I would never paint my house white. Too bland.”
“Nope. Your house is white. I remember because when you took
me into your attic, you said, ‘My house is white.’”
“You sure?”
“Yep. White is your favorite color because it sounds like ‘kite’.
“Hm. I do like a good kite.”
“Say, I wonder where it’s headed.”
“Yeah. Space?”
“No, I think the oxygen would escape.”
“Shut the windows. Duh.”
“Hm.”
“Hm.”
“Yep.”
“Any idea how your house got up there?”
“Nope. Do you?”
“Nope.”
“Actually, my kid was doing something with those…uh…things
he had.”
“What things, now?”
“Mmmmmmm… rocket engines. That’s it. He was messing around
with a few of those.”
“Hm. I didn’t know you had a son.”
“What?”
“I said I didn’t know you had a kid.”
“I don’t.”
“You just said that you did.”
“Oh. Right. Him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Ah. It’s on the tip of my tongue. Karen would know.”
“She’s missing. She’s
a ghost, remember?”
“Right, right.”
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