““Who is that and what does he —” Mr. McCurdy popped his head out of the driver’s side window of the rig! He had on a baseball cap, his grey hair sticking out from under it in a thousand different directions. He was wearing his special driving glasses — special because they helped him see, but also because they were pink women’s cat’s-eye glasses, covered in rhinestones, which he’d bought at a flea market. “Sarah! Nick!” he yelled, waving to us. Running to the side of the truck, we looked up — w...ay up — to where he sat. He opened the door and started to climb down. He looked so small against the massive truck. I was afraid he might fall, so I tried to get underneath him and catch him if he did. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “I live here, remember?” “Of course, but —” “I just asked you to watch my house for a few days, not move in for good!” “I … I mean, I just wasn’t expecting you back at least until tomorrow, or even a couple of days from now.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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