Meerkat Minor Ch. 2

Malcolm stabbed his oatmeal one last time and stood up. Where could he find something better then oatmeal? Anything was better then oatmeal. He bared a single fang at the bowl of mush as he plopped it into the trash. He put his bowl in the dishwasher and walked to the front door.

"Read a book," he muttered to himself and rolled his eyes. What would he read! He didn't have a favorite book, and Aunt Peach sure didn't have anything other then How To Tame Your Ladybug and old garden mysteries.

He got to the front door and then gave up on going outside. He didn't like sunny days anyways. Well, Oklahoma sunny days. Not hot enough. Not like home. Maybe he could listen to music, but that was shot down when the only thing he could find was Aunt Peach's old hurdy gurdy (it's a real instrument, look it up) recordings from her high school days.

What could he do! He slumped into an over stuffed arm chair covered in doilies and closed his eyes.

KNOCK! tap tap tap! KICK! scratch scratch!

Malcolm leaped up. Did he really fall asleep!! How lame. His summer was wasted with sleep. What woke him up? Was someone at the door? What was going on!

He shuffled to the door, not bothering to check the peep hole like his mother always strongly advised, and swung open the door. There standing on the door mat was . . .