“You shouldn’t be smoking that in here Heidi. We’re just kids here, you know. What if we get *caught*?”
“Speak for yourself, George,” she replied about the kid part.
The boy looks around. “So — we’ve turned down the lights. You’ve smoked half your joint; I’ve drank half my coke. Where is she?”
“Just give her some time.” Heidi Hunt Ives takes another toke. Again: she’s not really a kid.
“12:36 now,” he says after checking his Mick Mouse watch. “Maybe we should go. I need to get back to the park.”
“Well there you go,” she offered about the time. “Give it another minute.”
“Oh my God,” she whispers over. “There she is.”
“Well here we are lady,” spoke Uncle Zach, currently (and miraculously!) posing as a taxi driver. “The Joint Joint. It’s haunted you know. That back room. Back in the back. There’s people back there that shouldn’t be there.”
“I don’t care,” Heidi replied innocently with naive voice.
“Two eggs, they say,” he started again, hands extended and wavering to accent the spookiness. “Floating in mid air without any wires.”
“I’m not scared of eggs.” So child-like. Very surprising (again).
“You haven’t seen *these* eggs. Different colors they are. One glowing red, the other: green. Two colors that don’t go together well — at all. And: are you going to get out or not?” His haunted story had run its course. For now.
“Goodbye Mr. Taxi Man. ”
A boy appeared in the chair beside the door. Heidi changed as well.
“Shall we enter, Georgie Porgie?”
“After you, um, Heidi Widie.”
He always had trouble keeping up.