The Elder Thing and the Puddle People
by Samuel Boyd Taylor
"Want to go outside, Momma!" Gwenny said, and to show how much she wanted it, she jumped
up and down three times while holding the door handle to the back yard. She'd already put on
her green galoshes with the smiley frog faces on them, but she hadn't changed out of her purple
princess dress with all the glitter and lace. She didn't want to change. She was a princess today,
and she was prepared to throw a screaming fit to stay one.
"Gwenny, it's still raining. There's lightning."
"My puddle, Momma. Puddle people want to play!" She again jumped up and down three times.
Momma came to the door, turned Gwenny around, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. "You and
your imaginary friends. You love that puddle so much - why that one puddle?"
"Not majnary. Puddle people want to play."
"Gwenny, the storm . . ." But already the rain was slowing, beading on the Barbie Dream House
and the Lego Death Star buried at opposite ends of the sandbox. "Alright. How do you ask?"
"Well, let's put your raincoat and hat on."