Cooked Goose

the whipped cream and sprinkled on a bit of cinnamon. “They’re not all creeps. Dirk’s cool. He farts and burps too much, but basically, he’s all right.”
    “Yeah, Dirk’s cool,” Margie reluctantly conceded as Savannah handed her the overloaded mug.
    “And I know a few others who are definitely worth the air they breathe,” Savannah said as she poured herself a cup of the Louisiana brew. She sat across the table from Margie. “But just a few. Two... maybe even three.”
    “But women are better.”
    Laughing, Savannah lifted her mug and Margie returned the toast. “Women are definitely better. Wa-a-ay more better.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

    December 13 — 2:16 a.m.

    “ S avannah ... pssst... Savannah .”
    Savannah fought her way to consciousness from a deep, much needed and deserved sleep. Gran was right, there was no rest for the weary. By the dim moonlight shining through the lace curtains, she could see her favorite flannel pajamas standing in the bedroom door. Margie was wearing them.
    “Yes, dear?” she said groggily.
    “I had a really bad dream.” Margie sounded and looked like a forlorn five-year-old who was afraid of the thunder. But Savannah reminded herself that this teenager’s recent nightmare had been far more traumatic than the usual lightning storm.
    “I’m not surprised,” she said. She sat up in bed and turned on the nightstand lamp. “Do you want to come in here and tell me about it?”
    “Well... not really. I don’t want to talk about it. Or even think about it. I was wondering if...”
    “Yes?”
    “If you’d think it was just completely weird if I asked you if...”
    “If…?“ Savannah had a good idea where this was headed.
    “If I could sleep in here with you.”
    Savannah chuckled. Now, how had she guessed that one? “No. I don’t think it’s weird at all. Climb in.” She pulled back the comforter on the other side of the queen-sized bed, fluffed the pillow, and patted the mattress invitingly. “You don’t hog the covers, do you?”
    “Sometimes.” Margie laughed and climbed in beside her, looking grateful and infinitely relieved.
    “Well, don’t, or I’ll kick you out. And stay on your own side.”
    “Okay.”
    Savannah turned out the lamp and lay down. She pulled the blankets up around her chin.
    Margie did the same, flouncing around like a banty hen making her nest. When she was finally settled, she sighed and said, “You’re cool, Savannah . I wish you were my mom or my big sister.”
    “I can be your big sister if you want,” she said, touched by the girl’s honesty and vulnerability, rare in an adolescent “Heck, I’m a big sister to half of Georgia ... what’s another sister or two?”
    “You’ve got a lot of brothers and sisters?”
    “There are nine of us. I’m the oldest.”
    “Wow. I’m an only kid. They say that makes you spoiled, but I think it just makes you lonely.”
    “I think you’re right.”
    Savannah stifled a giggle.
    “What’s so funny?” Margie asked.
    “Lying here with you... it reminds me of a little song my granny used to sing to us at bedtime.”
    “Sing it to me.”
    “Naw. You don’t know what you’re asking. Believe me, Granny Reid sings a lot better than I do.”
    “I don’t care. I want to hear it.”
    Savannah took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes”:

    Two little chil’uns, lyin’ in bed,
    One ‘most sick, and the other ‘most dead.
    Call for the doctor. The doctor said,
    “Feed them little chil’uns some short’nin’ bread.”

    “Wait a minute.” Margie flopped onto her side, facing Savannah , and propped up on her elbow. “Does ‘chil’uns’ mean children?”
    “Of course. Don’t you speak Southern?”
    Margie laughed. “I guess not. And what’s short’nin’ bread?”
    “Something you wouldn’t want to eat. Here’s the second verse”:

    Two little chil’uns, lyin’ in bed.
    One turned over, and the other one said,
    “You peed in my wa-a-rm pla-a-ce.
    You peed in my wa-a-rm place.”

    Margie socked Savannah on the shoulder. “That’s a silly song.”
    “Maybe so, but those are the house rules: Stay on your side, don’t hog the blanket, and—”
    “And don’t pee in your warm place.”
    “Or anyplace else for that matter.”
    “You got it.”
    Savannah gave her an affectionate nudge with her elbow. “Good night, sleep tight, and don’t let the bedbugs bite.“
    “You have bugs in your bed?”
    “It’s just a quaint, Georgia nighttime blessing.