3F#6 – the visit
The wind blew from the golf course across her pink bedroom as Bad Timmy faced a disgruntled Father in the piano room.
“Casey?”
She jumped and, heart pounding, peeked around her dollhouse to see a man, wearing a tweed jacket. His furrowed brow softened.
“You look like your picture,” he said, his voice a tenderness she had never known.
“Who are you?”
“You can call me Mr. Prior. We haven’t much time.” He beckoned to her. She dropped Bad Timmy and emerged from behind the dollhouse, smoothing her grey linen Little House on the Prairie dress.
“A fondness for costumes already, I see. What were you doing back there?”
She blushed, thinking of Timmy’s impending spanking. “Nothing.”
Suddenly, he stood before her, cupping her face in his hands. “Naughty,” he admonished.
“I’m not! I’m good!” Her heart thudded with a sudden air of emergency.
“Nice, Casey, isn’t the same as good.”
“I’m not bad!”
“You just fibbed to me, didn’t you?”
Fear hovered. She didn’t even know this man, yet she dreaded him thinking her bad.
“And did you have permission to take that Twinkie from the bread box…? I thought not.” He put his arm around her and hugged her hard. His jacket blew backwards as if tugged by strings. “I’ll be back,” he said. “You won’t always be alone.”
She grasped him without knowing why. He was fading – melting? – now almost gone, his English voice a whisper in her ears: “Tell the truth, little Casey…always love…”
Apologies to Audrey Niffenegger for this one. I was in mind of her Time Traveler’s Wife. The picture Mr. Prior refers to is currently my Twitter icon. 
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