Wednesday, November 4, 2009

"Tom," said Douglas, "just promise me one thing, okay?"
     "It's a promise. What?"
"You may be my brother and maybe I hate you sometimes, but stick around, all right?"
     "You mean you'll let me follow you and the older guys when you go on hikes?"
"Well...sure...even that. What I mean is, don't go away, huh? Don't let any cars run over you or fall off a cliff."
     "I should say no! Whatta you think I am, anyway?"
"'Cause if worst comes to worst, and both of us are real old - say forty or forty-five some day - we can own a gold mine out West and sit there smoking corn silk and growing beards."
     "Growing beards! Boy!"
"Like I say, you stick around and don't let nothing happen."
     "You can depend on me," said Tom.
"It's not you I worry about," said Douglas. "It's the way God runs the world."
      Tom thought about that for a moment.
"He's all right, Doug," said Tom. "He tries."

-Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine

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