Deception
October 5th,
I wake up to the sound of Houston hitting his punching bag in rapid succession and regret letting him set the thing up in his room. I should have made him put it in the basement. I turn to look at the clock and, of course, it is 3 o’clock in the morning. Because, you know...witches...
After five minutes of listening to him work out his frustrations I throw on a robe and walk down the hall. I knock on the door and he stops working the bag. “Sorry,” he replies.
“You all right?”
“I’ll be fine, Nancy.”
I open the door. He turns around and I can see he’s been crying. “Houston, what’s wrong?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“But you aren’t fine now. What happened?”
“I’m just...Harlan...just...I don’t want to talk about it.”
Harlan, our house brownie, was attacked by the neighbor
