My father put a finger into the pie and brought it to his nose. He tasted a small sample, "It's mud. One of our warm-hearted-the-world-is-a-better-place-neighbors left you a mud pie."
"Call the police!"
"You should be arrested for not knowing the difference between chocolate moose and mud," he gloated.
"I'm choking and you're insulting me! You probably had it delivered!"
Their yelling faded as I made my way to Shannie's front door. I was about to knock when I heard a loud whistle. "Hey Just James, over here." Shannie's voice teased.
I looked in the direction of her voice. A scattering of trees stood in her yard. I walked towards them.
"You're getting warm."
At the edge of the house I stopped and looked around the corner.
"Colder." I continued towards the first tree. "You're hot, absolutely scalding." I looked up. Shannie sat perched in the branches. "You're parents always this entertaining?"
"My mom is on the excitable side," I answered.
"Twice in a day. Wow."
"Someone left her a mud pie. She took a bite out of it and thought someone poisoned her."
Shannie laughed. "I should have put Exlax in it."
"You did that?"
"Is the pope Catholic?" Shannie asked. I chuckled. "It was one of my better ones. I usually don't use sprinkles and M & M's."
I laughed.
"I like to make friends with the neighbors. Most of them move in with no intention of moving out, it's only proper." She climbed down and jumped from the lowest limb. She landed a little heavy and fell to her knees. Getting up she brushed them off. "We have a long day ahead of us Just James. I have things to show you."
"This is yours," I handed her the comb. Shannie smiled. I melted.
Shannie Ortolan was thirteen going on thirty-four. Shannie was cultured. "If your mother was a history and a political science professor, you would be up on things," she said.
We walked Beyford's tree lined streets. Shannie asked endless questions. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. She was a good listener, I wished my parents paid as much attention.
"Here it is," she said, nodding at the huge stone building guarding the corner of fourth and Main. "The most important place in town. If Wally's doesn't have it, it doesn't exist." I followed her up the three steps. Peeling paint bespeckled the old wooden doors. A bell jingled as we stepped inside. "Hi Helen," Shannie said to the old lady behind the counter. "I brought you a new customer. This is James, he just moved to town. He's from California."