Subj: Ask Mr. Loomis
Date: 6/22/99 2:17:54 PM Central Daylight Time
From: Kim Monroe

"Ask mr. Loomis, he's the best person to answer your question." a young red-haired girl said, popping her gum.

"Yeah, he'd know what to do." a blonde haired boy added. The recepient of the advice hopped on his bike and went to the Collins Estate. He jumped off his bike in front of a house, even though it was called Rose Cottage it didn't look like any cottage he'd seen. Cottages were small quaint buildings that little dwarves found princesses in; this was a large house that had the air of being an old house. He got up enough gall to knock on the doorand old man Loomis opened it.

"Hello, Mr. Loomis? I came here to talk to you." The boy offered, hoping Mr. Loomis didn't send him away.

The old man smiled, "come in, I've always got a vacant chair. Let me guess, your baseball went in my yard." Mr. Loomis said, backing up in the house so the boy could enter.

"No, nothing like that. I wanted to talk to you."

"Ol Willie'll listen to yah troubles," Mr. Loomis offered. sitting in a chair in the den. The boy plopped down on a couch. "My girlfriend died a couple days ago. She was in her jacuzzi or whatever, and the filter caught her hair, and she drowned."

Willie nodded, not sure who this kid was or, why he was tellling him this. "I'm scared, I mean, she was my best friend since, we was small, I never had to be without her, I never got the chance to say goodbye either." The boy sniffed, "Dad, he was drunk, man he was drunk and raging, he beat mom so bad, she crawled in the closet. Me 'n Emily, that's my sister, we ran. I could hear him hollerin all the way down the field, but I didn't care. Then we got back and the house is on fire, and I mean fire.
The shed's gone up, and even the dog house is flames!" Mom, she got out, but Dad didn't. All that drink kinda made him think he was safe right there in the shed." Mom, she ain't good, she's mentally incompetent. We have to get home health aid to come up and we can't leave her alone. I mean I don't get out much, cept for when she goes to appointments with her pychologist and therapist. I get a friend of mine to come down and drive me to the store. It ain't no kinda life for me or Em. I don't know what kinda life you had, but that's mine all neat and gift-wrapped."

The boy looked at Willie, then saw the spark of recognintion,. "I know that life ain't easy, and sometimes bad things happened to people who deserve them, but with folks like you, they happen just to happen I 'apose. I think you're a tuff kid, and I want yah to stay strong, yah hear? What yah wanna do with yourself when you're alone and schooled?"

"I want ta be a writer Mr. Loomis. I want to write like the national best sellers."

Mr. Loomis seemed to ponder that, then spoke slowly and softly. "I'll tell you a story that will make the best seller list. but yah gotta wait till ol' Willie is dead now, before yah write it. And yah gotta changed names and places."

The boy nodded, then glanced at his watch, "I gotta go Mr. Loomis, my mom should be getting back now, but I'll be back tomorrow."

For the first time in 5 months the boy smiled, and felt at ease and peaceful. The boy hopped on his bike and sped off. That night at bedtime Willie and his wife Kay both said a prayer for that boy. Kay wondered why all the troubled kids came to Willie for advice, but then again, she was glad that they did. Willie hadn't always been a good man, she knew, but he didn't seem the type to make friends with all the young people either. Willie looked at a picure of about 20 some people ranging in ages from 27 to 5.

"Willie, come to bed," Kay said yawning.

"I will hon, I was just looking at the picture of our "kids". I guess I need one of my new boy, I bet we'll probably have a talented novelist to add to our "family."

Note: When that boy grew up, he did in fact go on to be a writer, he wrote one of the most famous horror novels entitled Dark Shadows.It's highlights were a 175 year old vampire and his adventures involving time travel, love and the supernatural.