Old Fashioned by J.A. Konrath

Author:J.A. Konrath [Konrath, J.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2021-12-20T00:00:00+00:00

SAM

“I’m not supposed to talk to anyone.”

Duffy refused to go poo, no matter where I walked him around the front yard, and Mr. Wintergarten had come out of his house and asked me the dog’s name.

“Perfectly understandable,” he said. “Children shouldn’t talk to strangers. But I’m not a stranger. I’m your neighbor. I baked you cookies, remember? Did you like my cookies?”

“They were good.”

He walked a little closer, standing right on the line between his property and ours. “I can make you more cookies. Does your dog bite?”

“No. He’s a good dog.”

I took Duffy to the other side of the lawn, away from Mr. Wintergarten. I knew that was rude, but I’d rather be rude than disobedient. They key to getting more freedom was gaining trust, and Mom and Dad would only trust me if I did what they told me and kept my word.

As Dad said all the time, a person is only as good as their word.

Plus, I woke up feeling bad. My headache and stomach ache had gotten worse, and I had a tickle in my throat. Mom and Dad and Harry and Harry Junior had all been vaccinated against COVID-19, so according to science I shouldn’t be able to infect them. But I didn’t know if Mr. Wintergarten had gotten any shots, even though he was old enough to have been one of the first people eligible.

“I noticed you have visitors. A man and a boy. Family?”

Duffy finally pooped, so I pulled a plastic bag out of the case attached to the leash and focused on picking it up rather than answering, and that’s when Mom came out in sort of a rush.

“Good morning, Jacqueline.”

She stopped and stared at him, and I noticed her posture stiffen. “Good morning, Larry. Enjoying the spring morning?”

“I am. Clear day. A bit cold for the season, but you’re probably used to that. I heard the Windy City gets cold.”

Duffy pulled me over to Mom, and she bent down and patted his head, then put her hand on my shoulder. I stifled a cough, covering my mouth with my hand.

Coughing wasn’t a good sign.

“My husband mentioned you have a sister.”

“Had. She passed. Food poisoning, if you can believe it. Make sure you get your meat up to the correct temperature.”

Mom stood up again, walking over to Mr. Wintergarten, standing right in front of him, which was weird of her because she believed in social distancing.

“I don’t recall mentioning we’re from Chicago,” Mom said.

“Your husband must have told me. We chat sometimes, over the fence.”

“I know. He said you followed the Grateful Dead.”

Mr. Wintergarten chuckled, but it didn’t sound genuine. “Misspent youth. We had some memorable times.”

“Quite a change of pace, from growing up Amish in Pennsylvania.”

“Now that’s amusing. I don’t recall mentioning we’re from Pennsylvania.”

“We?”

They stared at each other, neither one talking. It reminded me of the ending of an old Western movie Dad liked to watch, where the good guy faced the bad guy.

I didn’t like it. Neither did Duffy, whose hackles rose up on his back.

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