The New Neighbors

It was a dark and stormy night. Lightning laced the sky. The metal slide in the neighborhood playground took on the appearance of a gallows. Pete zipped under its dubious shelter. "Pssst! Sam, where are you?" he hissed. "I hope he comes," Pete muttered to himself. "He's the only one who can help me." Sam was thirteen years old and very wise.

"OK. OK," came a grumble from the bushes. "Here I am." With much rustling and clanking, Sam appeared.

"What took you so long?" asked Pete.

"I had trouble getting out of the house. You know how edgy she gets when there's a storm brewing. And I had to get all the stuff. Did you bring the brush?"

"Yeah, and it wasn't easy." Pete complained. "She's gonna miss it, and us, if we don't hurry up."

"Don't get your shorts in a twist." Sam was full of worldly phrases. He had learned this one from his friend, Scotty. "I want to be sure to get this right. Now, you say our new neighbors are mean to you?"

"Right," Pete agreed.

"Give me an example," Sam instructed, scratching his chin.

"Well, you know they got a lot of little babies. One day I saw one of 'em just sitting in the grass crying. I ran over, and its mother swooped down on me and poked me on the head, real hard. And she started yelling at me, stuff like, 'You get out of here, you orange-haired devil! Leave my baby alone!' and stuff like that."

"Hmmm...sounds like she's prejudiced," said Sam, who had an advanced vocabulary.

"Yeah!" cried Pete. "That's it! She said she doesn't like 'my kind' around, and she made fun of the way I talk."

"I know just the spell for that. I read it on the back of a box of 'Mortimer's Pulverized-Freeze-Dried-Eye-of-Newt'. I brought some of that, too. Pull your hair out of that brush while I light the candle." Clattering, grumbling and cries of "Doggonit!." ensued. Then the candle was lit.

"What is that thing?" asked Pete.

"It's for starting a fire without using a match, y'know, for the fireplace. It's pretty hard, but it's a heck of a lot better than matches," Sam explained.

"OK, whatever." Pete didn't want to seem too impressed, but he was. He didn't think he could handle matches or the fireplace lighter. After all, he was only five. "Here's the hair. What do I do now?" he asked..

"I'll say the super-magical incantation, and you hold the hair over the flame."

"Hmmm..." said Pete. "How about you tell me the super-magical incantation. I'll say it, and you hold the hair over the flame?"

"Well, I'd like to, "Sam replied, "but since it's your hair, you hafta hold it over the flame. Besides, I hafta add the eye-of-newt."

"Oh, all right!" Pete exclaimed, "But hurry up. She's gonna come looking for us any minute."

"OK. Stick the hair over the flame." The acrid odor of burning hair tinged the night. "Here goes:

'Mumbo-jumbo-fido-carambo.'" Sam intoned. "'Hocus-pocus-feliz-de-mokus. Avian-clavian-break-your-bones-with-feathers-on.' OK! Here comes the eye-of-newt!" Poof! Sam blew a cloud of dust into the flame.

"Ka-Boom!" shouted the thunder. The candle blew out. Lightning struck the streetlight. The playground lit up bright as day, then the whole town plunged into total darkness.

"Kittykittykittykittykitty!" A voice rang out.

"Rats!" spat Pete. "Here comes our purrson. What're we gonna do now?"

"Quick. You shinny up that tree, and act like you're stuck. I'll scoot around the back with the brush and the fireplace lighter and sneak in through the dog door. We'll just hafta leave the candle here. It's too hot to carry. Maybe she'll think her evil arch-enemy scared you up the tree." Sam was a fast thinker.

"Maybe she'll even call the fire department!" Pete exclaimed. "That's always fun!"

"Yeah, and it's a good way to buy time, too." Sam agreed. "See ya back at the house."

"I smell hair burning," said the voice. "And eye-of-newt! Sam! Where are you, you little thief? Petey Cat! Kittykittykitty!" Petey Cat was halfway up the tree trunk.

"Hey." Sam barked from under the bushes. "I just thought of something. Don't the new neighbors live in that tree?"

"Yeah!" Pete replied, from the lowest branch. Only his grin was visible in the darkness.

"Well, I'm not entirely sure about mockingbirds," said Sam, "but I know most birds sleep with their heads under their wings at night. They're dead to the world." Pete decided to pay the new neighbors a visit.

Now the voice in the darkness was whistling. "Sam!" it called, "I know you're out there!" But Sam was hightailing it back to the house, congratulating himself all the way on the success of his spell!