“Yes. Or a few days later. Not sure exactly the timeframe. I wasn’t supposed to have food in my room, but I thought it didn’t count because I wasn’t eating it.”
“So what happened?”
“My mother came up the stairs and I didn’t want to get caught, so I shoved everything under my bed.”
“Ew,” he said.
“Yep. We had to leave on an errand. I forgot about it hours later when I got back. Didn’t even think about it for a day or so.”
“It had to be rotten,” he said. “How could you not smell yogurt?”
She shrugged. “Good question. No clue. But one night, I woke up and there is this buzzing noise. A few flies around my head and it’s driving me nuts. I’m thinking more came in through the screen.”
“Probably,” he said. “Being attracted to the food stinking under your bed.”
“Yep. I get up and turn the light on. There are more flying under my bed and I’m trying to figure out why. So I get on my knees and look under it. I realized the food was there and pulled out the piece of cardboard I was working on.”
“Did you gag at the food there?”
“The banana was the worst. It was a melted mess covering the grapes. The pasta was sticking to it. The yogurt had mold on it.”
“You should be afraid of eating those things, not of flies,” he said.
“I was for a bit. But then I realized there were all white little worms around my art project. I screamed.”
“Maggots,” he said.
“Yep. My parents come running. It’s the middle of the night and I’m screaming. Then they see what I’m looking at. My father picked it up and took it out of my room and put it in a garbage bag, then outside. My mother is scolding me once I tell her what happened.”
“That will teach you for not following the rules.”
She snorted. “I didn’t think I was breaking them since I was playing and not eating. It doesn’t matter. I can’t get the image out of my head that I woke up to that. Maggots are worse than flies, but flies lay eggs and create more and to me, it’s just this fear that they are going to land on me in my sleep and lay eggs on my face and in my hair. I had nightmares over that for weeks. Months. My parents had to get me a bunk bed so I could sleep on the top and have a desk under it. This way I could see at all times nothing was growing in the dark.”
“How many times did you fall trying to get in and out of bed?”
She put her elbow into his stomach. He let out a light grunt. No way she hurt him. “Never. Which is why I was shocked I fell climbing into the tree house.”
“Me too knowing what I do now.”
“Can I confess something to you?”
“Nothing has stopped you yet,” he said.
“I turned my head when I was climbing to look for you. I was always looking for you when I was there.”
“Did you have a crush on me? I’m six years older than you.”
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t think you were cute,” she said. “All of you were.” She shrugged. “But you’re the one that I always looked for the most.”
“Interesting,” he said.
“Why is that? Are you mad you didn’t see it?”
“Not mad. Just surprised. My mother noticed though.”
“There you go. Maybe this is one of those cute little stories to tell in the future.”
No way she was going to say something they’d tell their grandkids.
