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You cheesed me dog

You cheesed me dog


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You cheesed me dog. I didn't know you'd be doing that!" said Lumpy.

"Look, you gotta get us a ticket to France, man. We're running out of dough."

"France? Is that where you want to go?"

"Yeah! Why not?"

Lumpy was quiet for a while.

"There's something you're not telling me," he finally said.

Lumpy thought back to France, and he remembered how he had once seen a girl in a white dress, standing alone on the steps of a church. He had followed her all the way down the road, and even though she was not pretty, he had been able to tell she was a girl who wanted to be kissed.

"I gotta tell you a secret, Lumpy," said Johnny. "There's a girl. She lives in the back."

"Does she?"

"She always hides behind that door."

"I'm telling you. I heard her moving in there earlier."

"Do you want to go out with her? I know the kind she is. She's all right. I'll even take care of you. If you're serious about her, I'll find you a ticket to France."

"I'll get a ticket to Paris, all right."

"Paris is better. Much better."

"Paris."

"When are you going?"

"Saturday. I'll tell the old man. He's still in his room sleeping. He won't know. I'll ask him when he wakes up."

"That'll be great. Now, will you let me go?"

"You want me to put you out here?"

"I'll wait for a car."

"I'll see you Saturday."

"Don't forget."

"I won't forget."

"Good. See you then."

Johnny left Lumpy sitting there on the steps of the Hotel Duquesne. He was a little shaken. He went back down the street where Dora was still waiting. It was going to take a little longer, but this was the best way. Dora was going to get it right. He felt certain. After all, it was Johnny. Dora had known him for three years. She had gone to see him once before. It had not worked out. The girl had been a liar. But with Lumpy, this was different. Lumpy was a kid, and he could be easily convinced. Johnny would make sure. He hoped that he wouldn't have to use the whip, but he felt certain that it would be a good idea to. Johnny had always been a hard worker. He had come by his discipline naturally.

When Johnny left Dora in the Hotel Duquesne, he went to the house next door. The mother was there watching a movie on television. The father was at work. The mother wanted to come to Dora's room, but Johnny said no. He told her about the deal he had made with Dora and Lumpy.

"I'll be back tonight," he said. "Just tell him everything is going to be all right. I'm sure that everything will be all right."

"I hope so, Johnny," the mother said.

"I know it will be."

"That's good, because I don't like her. She's mean, like her mother."

"I know, ma. It's going to be fine."

"I like you, Johnny."

Johnny grinned. "We're going to be all right."

The mother nodded. She was glad, for the first time, that Johnny had decided to call her Johnny and not Mr. Henson. They had called him Mr. Henson for as long as she could remember. It was the first time he had smiled since he left the hospital.

Lumpy sat on the couch in the living room, watching the movie with his mother. He was dressed up. He wore his new jeans, a blue shirt with green checkerboard patterns, and a light-blue sweater. The top of his head was covered with black hair. His mother watched him as he sat, silently taking in the film. Lumpy noticed.

"You're looking good," she said.

He grinned. "My name's Lumpy now," he said. "Why don't you call me Lumpy?"

His mother laughed. "Okay, Lumpy," she said.

"What do you think of Dora?" he asked.

"I like her."

"Really?"

"Sure. She's nice."

"She sure is."

"I don't know her name. The movie says she's somebody's sister."

"That's right," Lumpy said. "She's his sister."

The movie ended. "Time to go to bed," his mother said. "You don't want to catch cold."

"Can I watch another one?"

"No."

"I want to see Dora again."

His mother looked at him, worried.

"What's the matter?" Lumpy asked.

"There's nothing the matter. I just don't think we should watch any more movies."

Lumpy frowned. "Why not?"

His mother took him by the hand. "Let's go upstairs," she said.

"No, no, I want to stay here with Dora."

"I want you to go to bed. It's time."

Lumpy shrugged. "Okay."

His mother led him upstairs and into his bedroom. Lumpy lay down on the bed and turned the lamp on.

"You can watch your second movie," his mother said.

"I want to see Dora again."

"Go to sleep," she said. "I'll read you a story."

"Can I watch a third movie?"

"No."

"I want to watch _Dora_ again."

"I just don't think it's a good idea. You want to catch a cold."

"But I like Dora. I want to see her again."

His mother looked at him with a mixture of affection and exasperation. "I know," she said. "And it's a pity. But I think we've seen all we need to see of _Dora._ "

"No we haven't."

"Let's go to bed. You can watch your movie in the morning."

"No. Please, I want to watch _Dora_ again."

"Let me read you a story."

"But I want to watch _Dora_ again."

His mother sighed. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

Lumpy was asleep by the time she'd finished reading the bedtime story.

His mother walked downstairs and out into the back garden. She was tired and felt that life had become a chore. _I wonder if his mother likes us_ , she thought, _or if we're just a nuisance to her, like everything else. But we're here now and we're his family, so we've got to make the best of it._

She sat on the back step and gazed out across the garden. It was late. The sky was overcast. She knew that there was a storm building and that it was only a matter of time before the storm broke. That was what you did in


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