Mr. Murder

saying deeper, and all the time here comes the squid." She broke into the shark's theme from the movie Jaws, "Dum-dum, dum-dum, dumdum, dum-dum, da-da-dum!"
        "That's silly," Emily said from the rear seat.
        Charlotte turned in her shoulder harness to look back between the front seats. "What's silly?"
        "Giant squid."
        "Oh, is that so? Maybe you wouldn't think they were so silly ůf you were swimming and one of them came up under you and bit you in half, ate you in two bites, then spit out your bones like grape "Squid don't eat people," Emily said.
        "Of course they do."
        "Other way around."
        "Huh?"
        "People eat squid," Emily said.
        "No way."
        "Way."
        "Where'd you get a dumb idea like that?"
        "Saw it on a menu at a restaurant."
        "What restaurant?" Charlotte asked.
        "Couple different restaurants. You were there. Isn't it true, Mom-don't people eat squid?"
        "Yes, they do," Paige agreed.
        "You're just agreeing with her so she won't look like a dumb seven-year-old," Charlotte said skeptically.
        "No, it's true," Paige assured her. "People eat squid."
        "How?" Charlotte asked, as if the very thought beggared her imagination.
        "Well," Paige said, braking for a red traffic light, "not all in one piece, you know."
        "I guess not!" Charlotte said. "Not a giant squid, anyway."
        "You can slice the tentacles and saute them in garlic butter for one thing," Paige said, and looked at her daughter to see what impact that bit of culinary news would have.
        Charlotte grimaced and faced forward again. "You're trying to gross me out."
        "Tastes good," Paige insisted.
        "I'd rather eat dirt."
        "Tastes better than dirt, I assure you."
        Emily piped up from the back seat again, "You can also slice their tentacles and french-fry 'em."
        "That's right," Paige said.
        Charlotte's judgment was simple and direct, "Yuck."
        "They're like little onion rings, only squid," Emily said.
        "This is sick."
        "Little gummy french-fried squid rings dripping gooey squid ink," Emily said, and giggled.
        Turning in her seat again to look at her sister, Charlotte said, "You're a disgusting troll."
        "Anyway," Emily said, "we're not in a submarine."
        "Of course we're not," Charlotte said. "We're in a car."
        "No, we're in a hypofoil."

    "A what?"
        Emily said, "Like we saw on TV that time, the boat that goes between England and somewhere, and it rides on top of the water, really zoooooming along."
        "Honey, you mean 'hydrofoil,"
        " Paige said, taking her foot off the brake when the light turned green, and accelerating cautiously across the flooded intersection.
        "Yeah," Emily said. "Hyderfoil. We're in a hyderfoil, going to England to meet the queen. I'm going to have tea with the queen, drink tea and eat squid and talk about the family jewels."
        Paige almost laughed out loud at that one.
        "The queen doesn't serve squid," Charlotte said exasperatedly.
        "Bet she does," said Emily.
        "No, she serves crumpets and scones and trollops and stuff," Charlotte said.
        This time Paige did laugh out loud. She had a vivid image in her head, The very proper and gracious Queen of England inquiring of a gentleman guest if he would like a trollop with his tea, and indicating a garish hooker waiting nearby in Frederick's of Hollywood lingerie.
        "What's so funny?" Charlotte asked.
        Stifling her laugh, Paige lied, "Nothing, I was just thinking about something, something else, happened a long time ago, wouldn't seem funny to you now, just an old Mommy memory."
        The last thing she wanted was to inhibit their conversation.
        When she was in the car with them, she rarely turned on the radio.
        Nothing on the dial was half as entertaining as the Charlotte and Emily Show.
        As the rain began to fall harder than ever, Emily proved to be in one of her more loquacious moods. "It's a lot more fun going on a hyderfoil to see the queen than being in a submarine with a giant squid chomping on it."
        "The queen is boring," Charlotte said.
        "Is not."
        "Is too."
        "She has a torture chamber under the palace."
        Charlotte turned in her seat again, interested in spite of