Ten-Finger Exercises

Margot wants to know

“Pssst, Wren. Over here. By the mailbox.”

“Margot, what are you doing hiding back there?”

“I am not hiding. I just don’t want our new neighbors to see me talking to you. “

“Why? What’s wrong with me?” Wren asked.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, you ninny. I haven’t gone over to meet them yet, and I don’t want them thinking I’m the kind of person who would have a neighbor in for tea and not invite them.”

“But you are!” Wren said, eyebrows raised but with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Don’t be difficult. Will you come have a cup with me and talk a bit?”

“I just came from wrestling zucchini-monsters. I’d better not. I’m pretty dirty.”

“Zucchinis again? Well it’s all right. Don’t worry about being a mess. We’ll sit outside.”

“That would be nice. It is quite pleasant out here today for a change.”

Margot went into the house and reappeared moments later with two large glasses of lemonade. “I hope this will be all right. It sounded better to me than anything hot.”

“It looks delicious.”

“Now,” said Margot, as she settled herself in the lawn chair. “What have you been saying in that blog of yours? Have you really been asking people what they believe?”

“What they believe in.”

“Like believing in Santa Claus? Or the Easter Bunny?” Margot said smugly.

“Why don’t you read it for yourself, Margot?” said Wren, feeling a bit peeved.

“I don’t have time for things like that, you know.“

“So, if you don’t have time to bother to read it, what is it you want to know?”

“I want to know if anybody I know has said anything I’d like to hear, of course. Anything extraordinary.” Margot smiled her innocent smile. “Like being reincarnated from Amelia Earhart or something, or Princess Di. Now that would be good, wouldn’t it?”

“You are full of nonsense, Margot, “ said Wren, but she smiled too.

“What! I also heard, and Bernard told me this, that you promised you wouldn’t pass judgment on anyone.“

“And I won’t, if they’re being serious.”

“How are you to know if they are being serious or not?

“I’m certain that you were not. Now, tell me something yourself. Would you read my blog if it had extraordinary things like that in it? “

“From time to time I might, just to catch up.”

“What if, from time to time, I wrote about you?“

"NO. No, really, Wren, I'd rather you'd write about people I know."