Henry Slesar

“ She put the end of a pigtail in her mouth and sat down on the chair opposite. "I went to the palace last night. They had an exelution."
"Please," Sol groaned. "Be a good girl, Sally. If you let me get dressed, I'll show you how to take your thumb off."
"Oh, that's an old trick. Did you ever see an exelution?"
"No. Did you ever see a little girl with her hide tanned?"
"Huh?"
"Sally!" Mom again, sterner. "You get out of there, or you-know-what ..."
"Okay," the girl said blithely. "I'm goin' to the palace again. If I brush my teeth. Aren't you ever gonna get up?" ”

“ Mom said firmly.
She padded off, leaving Sol holding the towel. He patted his face, and then scrubbed the wet tangle of brown hair. Carefully, he stepped off the carpet and onto the stone floor in front of the fireplace. He removed his drenched coat and suit jacket, and squeezed water out over the ashes.
He stripped down to his underwear, wondering about next morning's possible embarrassment, and decided to use the damp bath towel as a blanket. The sofa was downy and comfortable. He curled up under the towel, shivered once, and closed his eyes. ”

“ Mom got up hastily. "That reminds me. I gotta call poor Mrs. Brundage. It's the least I could do."
"Good idea," Dawes nodded. "And I'll have to round up some folks and get old Brundage out of there."
Sol was staring. He opened his mouth, but couldn't think of the right question to ask. Then he blurted out: "What execution?"
"None of your business," the man said coldly. "You eat up, young man. If you want me to get Sheriff Coogan lookin' for your car."
The rest of the meal went silently, except for Sally's insistence upon singing her school song between mouthfuls. ”

“ He got no more power than any Knight of the Realm. He's just too dern fat to do much more'n sit on a throne and eat grapes. That right, Charlie?"
The fat man giggled.
"Here's the Sheriff," Dawes said.
The Sheriff, a sleepy-eyed citizen with a long, sad face, was rocking on a porch as they approached his house, trying to puff a half-lit pipe. He lifted one hand wearily when he saw them.
"Hi, Cookie," Dawes grinned. "Thought you, me, and Charlie would get Brundage's body outa the house. This here's Mr. Becker; he got another problem. Mr. Becker, meet Cookie Coogan." ”

“ Dawes answered gruffly, but obviously flattered. "We were just goin' over to Brundage's to pick up the body. Ma's gonna pay a call on Mrs. Brundage around ten o'clock. You care to visit?"
"Why, I think that's very nice," the woman said. "I'll be sure and do that." She smiled at the fat man. "Mornin', Prince."
Sol's head was spinning. As they left the woman and continued their determined march down the quiet street, he tried to find answers.
"Look, Mr. Dawes." He was panting; the pace was fast. "Does she dream about this—Armagon, too? That woman back there?"
"Yep."
Charlie chuckled. ”

“ The man scratched his ear. "Take you over to Sheriff Coogan after breakfast. He'll let the Stateys know about it. My name's Dawes."
Sol accepted a careful handshake.
"Don't get many people comin' into town," Dawes said, looking at him curiously. "Ain't seen a stranger in years. But you look like the rest of us." He chuckled.
Mom called out: "Breakfast!" ”

“ You won't mind using the sofa?"
"No, of course not. I'd be happy to pay—"
"Oh, tush, nobody's asking you to pay. This isn't a hotel. You mind if I go back upstairs? They're gonna miss me at the palace." ”

“ HENRY SLESAR The woman in the doorway looked so harmless. Who was to tell she had some rather startling interests?
The woman in the doorway looked like Mom in the homier political cartoons. She was plump, apple-cheeked, white-haired. She wore a fussy, old-fashioned nightgown, and was busily clutching a worn house-robe around her expansive middle. She blinked at Sol Becker's rain-flattened hair and hang-dog expression, and said: "What is it? What do you want?"
"I'm sorry—" Sol's voice was pained. "The man in the diner said you might put me up. I had my car stolen: a hitchhiker ”