A Pinstriped Finger's My Only Friend by Robert T. Jeschonek Read Free Book Online

his head rotates while his body remains still. "If you need anything, give me a holler."
    "I will." Judd smiles weakly.
    (Hard to believe whopping toothy grins are his trademark outside of Looney World.)
    "Thanks for everything, Dad."
    Just then, Dad's head stops turning, and he sheds a sprinkling of white threads from his puffballs. The threads spin slowly as they drift down through layers of wispy cloud. "Now look what you made me do." Dad sheds a few more threads. "You made me cry ."
    (So now we've seen hugging and crying. I wonder what these things do when they're mad .)
    "Sorry, Dad," says Judd.
    "No worries. They're tears of joy, of course." With that, his chain of puffballs backs away from us toward the door. "I'll see you for supper, Sport. I'm making your favorite, muffin-free muffins."
    (Huh? What about lasagna with bacon and extra mushrooms?)
    Judd just smiles. "Sounds great, Dad. See you then."
    Suddenly, Dad pauses in his retreat. "Aren't you going to get that?"
    Judd frowns. "Get what?"
    Dad's threads all quiver at once. "The phone . Can't you smell it?"
    "I, uh...what?" Judd's stumped.
    Time for me to intervene, I think. Don't know if Mr. Fluffy will hear my voice, and I guess it doesn't matter. "Take a whiff , bro! Stop and smell the phone ."
    Judd throws me a weird look, like he forgot I can talk...
    (And do anything else I feel like!)
    (Okay, anything that doesn't require me to detach from my ride . Meaning the dude.)
    ...and then he does what he's told and inhales. After which he just shrugs like he doesn't get it.
    "Another whiff , dude!" That's what I tell him. "Don't be shy!"
    "Try again, son," says Dad. "You can't smell it between rings , remember?"
    So Judd inhales again, and this time his expression changes. His eyes widen and his eyebrows rise. "Lilacs?" He breathes in once more and nods. "I smell lilacs."
    "Of course you do. It's that girlfriend of yours. It's her smell-tone. " Dad finishes backing out through the doorway. "I'll leave you two alone. Maybe she'll make you feel better."
    As soon as Dad slips out of the room, the door frame expands, extending its pink velvet substance to cover the opening. A second later, a glittery pink velvet door has grown and solidified, sealing off the bedroom.
    "So." I poke Judd's palm to get his attention. "Are you going to get that?"
    Judd sniffs the air again and looks in the direction from which the smell seems to be coming--the far corner, where his desk used to be. Instead of a desk, the space is occupied by what looks like a pile of string. It's as if someone took a huge ball of the stuff--big as a person, maybe--and unwound it, letting it fall into one big tangled heap.
    "So the phone's over there?" Judd points at the pile of string. "Is it down in there somewhere?"
    "Maybe the phone is the pile." I poke him again. "Go find out!"
    Judd gets up from the bed...and keeps going! He's like an astronaut, drifting through low gravity...
    (Taking me with him!)
    ...heading straight for the ceiling after that one little push off the bed.
    "Yaahh!" Judd flails, trying to grab hold of something to stop his ascent, but all that does is make him spin around.
    (And make me dizzy from all the flapping!)
    At least the spinning stops when he hits the ceiling. And surprise! The collision ain't so bad after all! Though the ceiling looked solid from down below, it's actually a highly padded surface.
    (I feel it because he throws his hands back to catch himself. I sink right in like a ball bearing into a cotton ball.)
    Judd hangs there, pressed halfway into the cushiony ceiling, and breathes fast. "Holy crap!" Again, he's in a state of shock.
    (Though, y'know, maybe he should've expected a little flotation after the way his puffball pa stayed airborne with the greatest of ease.)
    "Push off," I tell him. "Aim for the pile of string down there."
    He clamps his eyes shut. "But this doesn't make any sense ! None of it does!" His heart's racing.
    (I can feel his pulse-- our