Chapter Twelve

The door opened: Glenn had come in late. Without any regards to anyone, he sat down. There was silence: Glenn made the room eerie and silent. Arobi had been curdled up in Cleo's lap, sleeping. With a stretch and yawn she awoke.
“Did you have good dreams?” Cleo asked with a beaming smile.
“Yes I did! Me and Fargo had fun sailing ships!” Arobi said excitedly.
Glenn sniffed at this idea: it was obvious the girl had an imaginary friend. He despised them so. A figment of your imagination that you conjured up was not a proper mate. No child of his had a invisible friend and especially no grand child of his own would have one. He would forbid it just like he did with his three children and Stu.
“Mister,” There was slight whisper. Almost so slight he didn't hear it. He looked to his side and saw Arobi, looking at him. “Fargo doesn't like you. You're mean.”
Glenn's head suddenly was filled with scream. He thrust his hand to his brow. Glenn felt beads of sweat slide down his face. The room around him began to swirl yet as faint as day, he saw two legs stand in front of him. When they appeared, the screeches ceased. He stared at the legs and followed them up to see a full grown man in a child's sailor suit. He wore makeup that made him look strange. The man wagged his finger at Glenn.
Then he was gone.
Glenn found himself back in his chair. Arobi was still asleep in Cleo's lap. She hadn't woken from her slumber. But before he turned his head, Arobi opened on eye and mumbled, “You're mean.”

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