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one hell of a poker player-you play any cards, by the way?" Tootie asked as she took Carla into the old house.

"Well. . .sure, I mean, I've played before. Carl taught me how."

"Oh goodie! We'll have to have you come sit in with us," Tootie said, leading the sleepy and bone weary Carla Speck into the back of the house. Surprisingly, and mercifully, the interior of the house was not as bad as it had appeared from outside. Antiques of good quality were everywhere, knick-knacks galore filling every shelf. The bedroom Tootie took her to held a fine old high post bed, which was made with a beautiful hand-sewn quilt.

The room was finished off with a lovely old dark wood bureau and chest of drawers along with a fine secretary, all of which Carla took in with her tired eyes, relieved to finally see things that looked good for a change. It was cool and dark and her body wanted to lie down so badly that she had to fight the urge to tremble.

Tootie pulled back the spread and sheet and patted the mattress, "There you go, sweetie. I'll keep an eye on the boy, don't you worry about a thing now. If you wake up and need some company, I'm just next-door. I'll be over there most of the afternoon I spec'. I bought me a jug a that hair color they fuss so much about now-a-days on the TV and I'm gonna give it a try out-wanna look my best for the doings this week."

"Thank you so much, Tootie."

"Think nothing of it, honey child. Just being neighborly's all." She shut the door as Carla let her eyes fall shut and slept like the dead through the rest of the day.
~

Learn more about this author, S Bond Herndon.
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