Heretics book 3 - The Apocryphile Press

286 :: JOHN R. MABRY
Dylan looked up at her parents, who were themselves
looking pretty sad. “Is Sammy your puppy?” Dylan asked.
The little girl nodded. Dylan sat on the floor next to her,
cross-legged, and without prompting she sat in his lap and
threw her arms around his neck. Surprised, Dylan took a
moment to adjust to the sudden outburst of affection, and
smiled, hugging the little girl to him and rocking. “Oh, Ah
know, darlin’, Ah know. Ah lost mah puppy, too. His name
was Tobias—remember him? Ah miss him so much I feel like
dyin’.” He did, too, and tears sprang to his eyes thinking
about him.
She drew back and looked at his face. She reached out a
finger and touched one of the tears on Dylan’s broad cheek.
“I didn’t know grown-ups could cry,” she said, amazed.
“Ah’m not really a grown-up,” he said in a conspiratorial
whisper. “Ah’m just a little kid pretendin’ to be a grownup.”
She looked at him in awe. “You pray for Sammy, okay?
’Cause God can do amazing things, an’ ya never know.”
“Will God make Sammy come back?”
Dylan put on his serious face. “Well, ordinarily Ah’d say
no, but this is a pretty special case. Now sometimes puppies
die, and they can’t come back. But Sammy and Toby, they’re
not dead. So it’s hard to say. All Ah’m sayin’ is, it don’t hurt
to pray, okay?”
She nodded. “Do I have to take a bath?”
Dylan laughed. “Not exactly, li’l one. We’re gonna put
some water on your head, but it’s not as icky as taking a
bath. It’s kind of like a play, so it’s a lot of fun. What do you
think? Do you wanna be in a play?” He nodded excitedly
and was relieved when she nodded back.
Dylan scooped her up, and, standing, shook her father’s
hand, then her mother’s, and took their coats. Mrs. Swanson
gazed through the door into the kitchen, and they all waved
at her. “Oh, I’m sorry to have interrupted your meal,”
Connie said.