check that it was lockedâsomething Mom had trained me to do long before I was Sashaâs age. Outside, the night was dark and silent.
âOr if I just get scared or something?â Sasha asked as I checked to make sure her collection of night-lights was on.
âOr if you just get scared,â I answered.
Sasha sat up. âUnless you want to stay and watch my dollies dance!â
I gently pushed her back down. This kid was a procrastinator when it came to bedtime, because she was so afraid of the dark. Sheâd make her dolls perform an entire Broadway show if it meant Iâd stay in her room a little bit longer. âIâd love to see your dollies dance,â I replied. âBut itâs time for bed now, so weâll have to play with them another day.â
âNo!â Sasha shook her head fast and sat up in bed again. âThey donât dance during the day! Only at night!â
I pushed her down again, this time sitting beside her on the bed and pinning her down with the blankets. âWell, maybe youâll have a good dream tonight about your dollies dancing. That way, you wonât have any time for nightmares.â
Sasha belly-laughed. âBut you donât get it!â she exclaimed through giggles. âThey donât dance in my dreams. They dance before I fall asleep! Like this!â She wiggled out from beneath the covers and sat up once more, letting her head loll forward, her arms outstretched like a puppet on strings as she shifted her body back and forth.
I laughed, mostly because the idea of those dolls dancing like that wouldâve made Calvin freak. âWow. Thatâs amazing. I wish I had dolls that danced around my room at night. But itâs late.â
âIâll show you next time,â Sasha said, her eyes suddenly solemn.
âOkay,â I said, âbut right now, itâs time for all little girls and dolls to stop dancing and start sleeping. Because tomorrow you have to be up early for school.â
âEw!â Sasha said, her nostrils flaring.
âI know. School is ewwy.â
âNo, no. Eeeeew . Whatâs that smell ?â
I sniffed the air and the stench hit me. Like something had died and then come back to life just so that it could die again and double the stink. I mean, it was intense .
âOh my lord, Sasha, for real ? Did you just fart ?â
Sasha had her hands over her nose, looking like she didnât know whether to laugh or throw up. âNuh-uh!â she exclaimed, her voice muffled through her fingers. She burrowed her face into her teddy bear and made a groaning sound, like breathing the air was physically painful.
It was. My eyes were literally watering . âWell, it wasnât me!â I exclaimed, gagging before I covered my own nose and mouth with my hands. âGood God! You are never getting too-too chocolate milk again, woman!â
She laughed.
The awfulness was fading, but I was still thinking about maybe hurlingâor at least offering a dry heave or two to the Gods of Terrible Odorsâwhen Sasha initiated a tickle war.
âDonât!â I warned her, trying to catch her hands, but the gasping breath I took was filled with fresh, clear, un-stankified air, and I immediately recovered.
Before long, the two of us were hysterical, a jumble of arms and legs on Sashaâs bed, giggling and out-tickling each other until finally we lay there exhausted.
âItâs gone,â Sasha said. âThe smell is.â
I turned my head to look at her. âThank goodness. Youâre nasty.â
She giggled. â Youâre nasty!â
I stood up, fixed the girlâs covers, and planted a big olâ kiss on her forehead. âGo to bed,â I said.
âGood night, Sky,â Sasha said.
âGood night, Sash.â
I didnât realize it then, but I should have said good-bye.
â
Things went south fast, starting late on Monday