“How come?” I asked.
“Because I lost my new mini-bike,” he said, unable to hold back another torrent of tears.
“Lost? How?”
“I rode it over to Julian’s house to play video games and didn’t lock it up. Then, when I came out, it was gone.”
“Well, if it’s lost then I can help you find it. Come on,” I said with all the confidence of a junior detective about to set out on her next case.
“I can’t,” Flash sniffled. “I’m supposta stay back here until all the weeds are gone and learn how to be...more...sponsible... with my things.” Flash was sobbing now.
I’d seen Flash cry after falling off his bike, or when Artax sank into the swamp of sadness in The NeverEnding Story, but never like this.
“It’s okay. I’m sure your parents know you didn’t mean to lose your bike,” I said, patting his back.
“It’s not that,” he cried.
“What is it, then?”
“It’s a secret,” Flash replied, looking around to make sure no grownups were nearby.
“You can tell me your secret,” I said.
“You have to swear to god you won’t tell anyone,” he demanded.
“I’m not supposed to do that,” I whispered. “Mom says it’s bad.”
“Well, then I’m not going to tell you the secret.”
I bit my lip and sighed. “Okay, fine, but don’t tell anyone I did.”
“I won’t.”
I dropped my head back, looked up to the heavens, and timidly squeaked out, “Shit.”
“What are you doing?”
“Swearing at god,” I replied.
“What?”
“I know that word is a swear because my dad says it whenever he’s fixing something around the house and Mommy told me not to repeat it.”
“No, sweartogod, notatgod. That’s a different kind of swear.”
“Well, what do you know?” I asked, the flush of embarrassment burning my cheeks. “But now that I’ve done it, you have to. Or else God will just think I’m mad at him or something.”
“Okay fine,” he said. “But once we’ve both sworn at God, then you can never tell anyone my secret, okay?”
I nodded.
Flash looked around once more to make sure the coast was clear and whisper shouted, “Fart.”
I giggled. “I don’t think fart is a swear word.”
“Okay, then. I have a good one,” he said, before launching his second attempt at blasphemy up to the clouds. “Asshole.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, my eyes as wide as saucers.
