By Kristi
"Diane Muck! Get down here for breakfast.It's getting cold."
"I'm comin', Momma," I mumbled. As I threw my cotton blankets to the floor, I stumbled to my feet.. Being too lazy to change out of my party clothes, I meandered downstairs to eat oatmeal and burnt toast. Halfway down the spiral stairway, my head pounded like a nail being hammered to my brain. My gut gurgled in rhythm like boiling water on an open flame. As a faint dizziness overcame my fragile body, I went limp.
�Diane!� my mother screamed in fear. Without another word, I blacked-out. Waking up back in my flowered bed, I noticed a note on my door. I ran to see its contents. The note read:
I am very ashamed of your summer habits. I thought you stopped your drinking and your head was finally on straight. Once again you will be late for school on your first day of your senior year! I did not cover you by calling in an excuse. If you cannot learn from this and realize what you�re doing to me and also to yourself, then you shall not live under this roof.
Call me,
Mom
�Well, that�s nice,� I yelled out. �Another day of skippin� school.�
Ring! Ring! Ring! With a grit of my teeth, I answered the phone.
�Howdy.� (No answer) �What chu want?� I questioned. Silence. �Ello? Anybody there?�
�Is this Diane?� a masculine voice called out.
�Yea, who this be. This ain�t no advertiser is it? Cuz I�m tellin� ya now, I don�t want none.�
�I�m sorry, Diane, but this is Mr. Flumb.�
�Mr. Who?� I chuckled.
�Mr. Flumb. I work with your mother. I was calling to inform you that my son will be arriving at your farm in approximately two hours.�
�EXCUSE me!� I exclaimed. �I don�t want no boy here at my house. Why�d he be comin� here? Ain�t he got much better to do?�
�Please just talk to him and give him a chance. Your mother informed me you were in need of a friend and I thought this would be a great opportunity for him to meet somebody new.�
�I gotta go. I guess I�ll give this lil� booger kid a chance. Thanx, Mr. Dumb, I mean Flumb.�
�Goodbye, dear,� he echoed.
�Yup. Later.� And with that, I slammed down the phone with all of my might. �What nerve,� I mumbled. About two hours later the doorbell rang. As I slowly marched to open the door, I realized who it was. �One sec,� I hollered. Upon opening the wooden door, which weighed about fifty pounds, my big blue eyes widened and shone like stars. I had to close my mouth so I wouldn�t drool like a Saint Bernard. A young fella stood in my doorway. Steam rolled off of this hunk like a freshly steamed vegetable. I stood there viewing his body in amazement and smirked. Then, he spoke!
�Hi there. You must be Diane. My father must have left out how pretty you are.�
�Hey, good lookin�. Save all that mushy junk. I must have missed the name.�
�I am Joseph Flumb,� he replied almost robotically.
�C�mon in, Joe!� I reassured him his presence was welcome.
�Who is this?� Joe asked pointing to my great aunt.
�That�s my aunt Dana. I got the name from her. Ain�t she pretty? She died of cancer last year.� Joe�s head shot up and his eyes widened. �You okay Joe?�
�Yea, I�m okay,� he said shakily.
Not exactly knowing what his problem was, I broke the ice. �You like ridin�?� I questioned.
�Excuse me.�
�I said, you like ridin�?� I repeated.
�I understand,� he replied, �you mean riding horses. My father told me you loved horses.�
�Yup. So ya wanna ride?�
�Well,� he began, �I�ve never actually��
�I can teach ya,� I butted in, �I�d love the company.�
