haaa, of Max’s breathing. I can’t hear him at all, like when he is closer. I can only hear my heart.

      I pass my room and think of stopping there but Max knows it as good as me so I’ll try something new. I never go into my parents’ room without them being there. They could tell if I’ve been in there and would get mad at me if I did. I can’t worry about that. Max will never guess I’ve gone in here so I have to.

      I’m at the bed. Should I hide under here? No. Maybe Max saw in movies kids doing that and he’d figure it out. Behind a curtain? No. He’d smell my feet. The closet! He can’t open the door!

He can’t see me and he can’t get in. I’ll have him this time.

     In the closet I close the door so gentle I can’t hear it shut. That darn metal doorknob tongue going into the hole makes a noise. I can’t help that. I need to stop breathing so much, I’m too loud. I’ll sit on the floor between the two doors. It’s dark. I can’t move. I won’t breathe.

    Max is in the room. I hear him sniffing. It’s funny listening to him. Scena, scena, scena. He sounds like a machine. He’s trying so hard. He’s so close. I’d love to come flying out the door and go booo! See him jump off the ground with his tongue hanging out. But, I’ve got him this time. I wonder if he’ll ever figure it out.

    I hold my breath when he comes by the closet. He doesn’t smell under the door. He goes out. Probably back to my room again. When I think he’s gone I turn on the light just to get rid of the creepy dark. I slide my back on the wall down to the floor. When I get to the bottom there is something.

    It has lots of colors and shiny, clear, see through plastic on top. It looks like a kid’s thing. What is it doing in here? I grab it and drag it to me. I turn it in my hands. Ohhh. A remote control airplane. The kind I wanted. The kind I asked Santa for. Why do my parents have one for themselves? I wonder if they will share it with me sometime.

    Stupid light. Max is sniffing under the door and now he’s scratching. I had him and I blew it.

I put the plane back, turn out the light, and go outside. Max is all wagging tail. I get down on the floor and hug him. He puts his head hard on my shoulder and snorts. 

    Christmas morning I unwrap the remote control plane I found in the closet. The tag says from Santa. Mommy once said “The magic of Christmas will push into the smoke and go up the chimney, so you better enjoy it all you can as a kid.” My heart hurts. I’m not breathing so good. Please Santa come fix things! I’m spinning sick.