December 21st, 2009
Dear Dad,
It’s weird how good I feel today. And I do think you had something to do with it. You took on my fear. You taught me how to box.
Guess who called today? Mudgett. Rhonda answered the phone and came and got me with this holy-crap look on her face. “It’s Mudgett!” she said. I shrugged.
“Hello?”
“So I guess we’re square then.”
“OK.”
“And I guess you’re not a wuss.”
“OK.”
“So I guess that’s it.”
“I guess so.” I was about to hang up when I thought of something. “Hey, Mudgett—I mean, Will.”
“Yeah?”
“Where do you take taekwando lessons again?”
“Why?”
“Because, well, because I was thinking of seeing if my mom would let me take them.”
Then we started talking about the Y and how Mudgett goes there right after school a couple of days a week and how I could probably get a ride with him. I asked him what his mom said about the whole thing. He said that she freaked and wanted to call the school, but that he’d convinced her the whole thing was under control. “I still look pretty bad, though.”
“Yeah, that Gilman is huge.”
“You knocked him down.”
“I got lucky.”
“Where’d you learn to fight like that?”
“My dad taught me.”
He started to say, “I thought your dad was—“ but he caught himself and said, “OK.”
We said goodbye and hung up. Rhonda waited for the call to end. She gave me what-the-heck look.
“What?” I said.
“So is he your buddy now?”
“Mudgett? No way.”
“He sounded like he was your buddy.”
He’s not my buddy.
Let me know if the boat comes in tomorrow.
Your son,
Tom
Dear Dad,
It’s weird how good I feel today. And I do think you had something to do with it. You took on my fear. You taught me how to box.
Guess who called today? Mudgett. Rhonda answered the phone and came and got me with this holy-crap look on her face. “It’s Mudgett!” she said. I shrugged.
“Hello?”
“So I guess we’re square then.”
“OK.”
“And I guess you’re not a wuss.”
“OK.”
“So I guess that’s it.”
“I guess so.” I was about to hang up when I thought of something. “Hey, Mudgett—I mean, Will.”
“Yeah?”
“Where do you take taekwando lessons again?”
“Why?”
“Because, well, because I was thinking of seeing if my mom would let me take them.”
Then we started talking about the Y and how Mudgett goes there right after school a couple of days a week and how I could probably get a ride with him. I asked him what his mom said about the whole thing. He said that she freaked and wanted to call the school, but that he’d convinced her the whole thing was under control. “I still look pretty bad, though.”
“Yeah, that Gilman is huge.”
“You knocked him down.”
“I got lucky.”
“Where’d you learn to fight like that?”
“My dad taught me.”
He started to say, “I thought your dad was—“ but he caught himself and said, “OK.”
We said goodbye and hung up. Rhonda waited for the call to end. She gave me what-the-heck look.
“What?” I said.
“So is he your buddy now?”
“Mudgett? No way.”
“He sounded like he was your buddy.”
He’s not my buddy.
Let me know if the boat comes in tomorrow.
Your son,
Tom
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