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down. The nightly ritual had begun50 push-ups, 40 sit-ups and ten minutes of jogging in place. It was a regimen that would make him sweat profusely, after which he would crawl in bed and monitor his diminishing pulse until it hit precisely the level Doctor Whitehurst had told him was right and proper for a man his age, weight and build. Betty Elizabeth had tried, without success, to get him to alter his schedule and shower after his calisthenics, but Theodore had never quite grasped the implications of her timely suggestion. |
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"Actually, I don't know," he finally got around to answering. "Pretty weird though, don't you think?" |
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Betty Elizabeth laid down her book on her quilted lap and looked at her husband. It was his typically vague, ambiguous answer. "How was it strange, Theodore?" Her voice had that first tinge of impatience in it. "Be specific. You said your brother brought a gift for your father, then you tell me it's a strange gift, then you top it off with the statement that you don't know what it is. At the moment, I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about." |
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Theodore batted his lazy eyes, propped his hands behind his head and stared lethargically up at the ceiling. "If you can believe it, he said he got it from someone who calls herself the 'Witch of Sixkill'. Said he brought it all the |
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