Somehow it seemed that, The Grownups Wanted Us Dead, less and less often. I suppose they considered their work done since it was obvious we were trying to kill each other.
The next morning I told Rumble to go ahead and go to school without me, because my friends Sue and Anna were coming by. If Rumble left with the impression they would be taking me to school, that wasn’t my fault. We raided Gram’s sewing kit, grabbed a packet of needles and a couple of rolls of white thread, then we descended the basement stairs and invaded Rumble’s lair.
The complete Rumble Stories:
The P.B. & J. Sandwich (part 1)
Bright, Shiny Red (part 2)
Tea Time (part 3)
Cosmetically Yours (part 4)
Hemmed In (part 5)