by Paul Erland

Created on: May 11, 2010

Tom Swift and His Family

 “What was the name of that big fat baseball player who hit all the home runs?” Tom’s older sister asked ruthlessly.

“I can’t remember, but I remember he loved hot dogs,” Tom said frankly.

“He’s long dead by now,” their mother said gravely.

“He is? But he was as cute and lovable as…as cute and lovable as a little whale!” Tom’s little sister blubbered.  

“If you’re going to cry like that, go to the back of the boat!” Tom said sternly.

“You can’t talk to me like that—I’m almost as tall as you are,” she said gruesomely.

“Let’s don’t bicker, children. Come and have some of the dessert I’ve been baking all day,” their mother said piously.

“All right. Just get me a knife and I’ll cut the pies,” Tom said sharply.

They all sat at the table. Tom cut the pies and passed his sister a slice.

“Don’t you have something else a little less fattening, maybe like, ah, cookie snaps?” she asked gingerly.

“Less fattening? You’re already as fat as a cow,” Tom thought moodily.

“Did you apply for that job at McDonald’s today?” his mother asked him archly.

“No. I went to the racetrack again,” he said hoarsely.

“I see, I see,” his mother said icily.

“It’s cold in here! Can’t we close that window?” his sister shuddered.

“Why not keep the fire going?” Tom bellowed.

“This watch has stopped again,” his little sister whined. “What time is it?”

“It’s either six or seven,” Tom orated. “Time for you to go to bed, in any event.”

“Already? But I wanted you to read some of Moby Dick to me,” she wailed.

“There’s not enough light in here to read,” he said darkly.

“Oh, don’t act like you’re being crucified!” his other sister said crossly.   

 “Stay out of it, pinhead!” Tom told her pointedly.

Their mother raised her hand to quiet them. “I’ll read to her, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered. “How about a nice fairy tale?”

“I don’t like fairy tales,” Tom’s sister said grimly.

“How about some Hemingway? You’ll like Hemingway,” Tom told her earnestly.

They went into the bedroom cabin and Tom tucked his sister into bed. He read for a while until he saw that she was sleepy. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and got up.

“I’ll wake you up in the morning!” she crowed as he went out. He stuck his head back in.

“Not too early, please. Not too early,” he said belatedly. She was asleep.  

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