Page:Jay Little - Maybe—Tomorrow.pdf/172



"GAYLORD"; A SHORT PAUSE, AND then again, "Gay, darling, are you up?" A feminine voice called and rang up the stairs into the ears of the sleepy boy.

"Yes?" he answered drowsily but loud.

"Phone. Can you come down?"

Bob; he grinned with delight. 'Til be right down, mother," he yelled.

He jumped out of bed with a bounce, grabbed a robe from a chair and almost flew down the carpeted stairs.

"My goodness, it's not a matter of life and death," his mother said to him as he whizzed by.

"Morning, Mother," he cried running past her.

He was out of breath when he snatched up the phone. Said, "Good morning, Bob, I was still in bed."

"Bob? This isn't Bob," said the voice on the phone. "This is Glenn."

"Oh," he said as if someone had struck him. "I thought you were Bob, Glenn."

"No … I'm not Bob."

"Well how are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"Fine."

"I just called to see if you were sick. I missed you in school yesterday. Called you last night but no one answered."

"No, I'm not sick. Feel wonderful. Played hookey yesterday." 162