THE INCREDIBLE REVERSE-AGING story left Sammy feeling torn between the wonder of what seemed impossible and anger over having been deceived. For two weeks Sammy wrestled with resentment toward Walt. Sammy had thought Virginia's birthing was a murder. And Walt had to have known his flimsy story about a play wouldn't allay Sammy's fears. Also, now that he thought about it, Sammy suspected that Walt came up with the moneymaking scheme more to provide entertainment for his friends than help Sammy out. Falling for AnLillie was the topper. It embarrassed and incensed him. Sammy decided Walt needed a lesson; he planned his retaliation well.
"You know, Mom, it's been a long time since we've had anyone over for dinner."
"You're right. What have you got in mind?"
Oh, this is too easy. A piece of cake. Now play your cards right, Sammy. Just remember she doesn't suspect anything.
"Well, you know that old man, Walt, that I met last fall?"
"The man that helped you with the senior night at The Arcade. Nice old guy."
"Yes, Walt. I've called him several times, and he seems lonely," Sammy added.
"It's fine with me if you want to invite him for dinner."
Sammy nabbed the opportunity, "How about this Saturday?"
"That will work." she answered.
Sometimes wonderful things happen to people without even trying. Do they deserve it? Maybe. Are they just lucky? More likely. His plan was coming together even better and easier than he anticipated. The ball is snapped to the mother, who catches it and looks for an opening. Now for the pass.
"That's great. You don't suppose we could invite anyone else to kind of round out the table, do you?" Sammy knew very well who he wanted, but he didn't want to appear too eager with the suggestion.
"Are you thinking of John?" Pass complete. Now run the field.
"I'm not sure he's in town this weekend."
"You know, Sammy, it would be really nice if we invited Mrs. West to join us." Touchdown! "She's been so sweet to us, and I'm sure she'd like the company. Walt and Mrs. West might find things in common." Extra point!
"Good idea, Mom. Let's do it." He knew he should ask Mrs. West first because without her, there could be no plan. Yet he'd suggested the dinner with the idea that Walt was lonely. He'd have to call him first. All the maneuvers had to be executed in the proper order.
"That's awfully thoughtful of you, Sammy. Just let me know if it's a go."
Sammy felt a rush of wicked delight. His first inclination was to phone John, but he resisted; he'd see him soon enough in school.
The ringing sounded distant. Now that he knew whom he was talking to, he wondered where Walt actually lived. Was he in one of the cottages with his parents? Now there's a strange thought. They must be about Mom's age, maybe a little older. Or maybe he's in some sort of dormitory where the phone rings at the end of a long hall. And it keeps ringing until someone stumbles out of bed and shuffles down the hall to answer it. Or is he living with AnLillie?
"Hello."
"Can I please speak to Walt?" What's his last name? I don't even know his . . .
"This is Walt."
"Walt, is that really you? You sound so much different." Sammy realized he had already adjusted to the idea that Walt was really his age. In his thinking, Walt's voice should be younger, too.
"Sammy, good to hear you. I was beginning to think you were giving up on me."
Sammy wished he had practiced his speech.
"You're sure calling early."
"I wanted to call you before school. Mom says she'd like to have you over to dinner on Saturday. She says you're a nice old guy."
It was quiet on the other end.
He needed to word this just right, no lies, and it was true she offered to fix dinner. He spoke in a rush. "I haven't said a word about my promise, Walt, if that's what you're thinking. I haven't said anything to anybody, never will, honest to God. Besides, they'd think I was crazy." Sammy took a breath.
"Two weeks, Sammy."
"I know, I was mad at you and, well, a whole bunch of other things. You laid a big heavy on us." Again there was a pause.
"All right, Sammy, but AnLillie won't let me drive at night until I have more practice."
"No problem. We'll pick you up. How about six by that house beyond the main gate? The place where Mrs. West dropped you off during the storm."
"I'm sure it's okay."
His mom would be coming down the hall any minute. But there was one gnawing question Sammy wanted answered. "Walt, who do you ask if you want to go someplace?"
"I usually ask AnMike."
The name sounded familiar. "Who's she?"
"He . . . AnMike is one of my uncles. The 'An' stands for ancestor, the title we give all of our ancestors."
"I see." He remembered hearing Walt call the boy in the computer room by that name. Now AnLillie's name had more meaning. "So, I'll see you on Saturday, six o'clock sharp." Easy, too easy. Now just one more piece to the puzzle.
As he ran out, the front door slammed behind him. He jumped the side hedge by Mrs. West's front lawn. She was always up early, and he caught her wave through the front window as he headed to the porch. She held the door open. He wondered if she too might really be a kid, then realized he'd known her too long. He would notice her growing younger.
"Is there a problem, Sammy?" Mrs. West seemed to think in problems.
"No, Mrs. West, no problem." He stooped to pick up the newspaper against a planter box and handed it to her.
"Come in. I know you didn't come over just to pick up my paper."
"Mom and I were wondering if you'd like to come to dinner around six on Saturday night."
"Why, that sounds wonderful. I'd love to."
"Okay, then, see you later." Sammy started backing toward the steps before he realized he was still missing one vital piece to his plan. "Oh, say, Mrs. West, you wouldn't mind if Walt joined us for dinner too, would you? He's that old guy that helped us with the arcade project."
"I know Walt. I took him home during the rain storm."
"Oh, yeah. I hate to ask, but do you think you could pick him up? He's still having car trouble."
"Car trouble, is it? Certainly I can pick him up and take him home. I know where he lives."
"That's great, Mrs. West. I'll tell him to wait outside his house. See you Saturday." Sammy jumped from the porch to the walk, missing the steps altogether.
Later, telling John his scheme was the highlight of the morning. "He doesn't know who's picking him up, or who he'll be sitting next to at the dinner table."
"Wish I could be there."
"Why not? I'll tell Mom you had a sudden change in plans, which is true, isn't it?"
"Right, I plan to be laughing a lot Saturday night."
Today was Thursday; they had three afternoons to develop their plot. Sammy insisted on buying props to set the mood, so pooling their resources was the first order of business.
"This better be good, Sammy. I was planning on buying a new headlight for my bike with that money."
"Ah, you'll get another job. Besides, you could barely buy the batteries for that much."
"So, who's gonna pick up the stuff?" John asked.
"I'll get the candles and candy. You order the flowers."
"What do I say? Nobody in our house has ever done that."
"Just go to the store and tell them you want the most romantic bunch of flowers a guy can get for $5.25—better make that $4.25. I think you're supposed to send a card with that too," Sammy said.
"So who's gonna write on the card?"
"You are, Doofus. And you get to deliver the stuff to Mrs. West. Just tell her a delivery guy got lost and asked you to do the job since you knew where she lives."
"Why don't I just buy the candles and the candy and you do the flowers?" John said.
"Look here, John, you get a free meal, and remember, you made me look ridiculous when you left me alone with AnLillie in the ice cream booth. Besides, I have to set things up."
"So when does the princess get the flowers?"
"It'll have to be sometime Saturday morning so it looks like Walt is really looking forward to seeing her. I'll make sure the candy shows up on her porch sometime in the afternoon."