Ch. 21

True to Mr. Grasshopper's prediction, Mrs. Ladybug and Earthworm had arrived home by the time he and James returned from their walk. The warm air of the house was scented with the savory smells of a rich beef stew and a simmering vegetable soup. More fresh bread was already laid out on the table and Miss Spider was stirring a pitcher of iced tea.

"Dinner is almost ready," she informed James and Mr. Grasshopper as they hung up their coats. "Best get ready."

"Yes, Miss Spider. And I'll make sure the water's hot."

Miss Spider smiled as James darted away to wash up before turning a concerned gaze to Mr. Grasshopper. "Is he alright?" she asked softly.

"I think so," Mr. Grasshopper answered. "I told him about our plans for Dylan going forward and to be honest, I think he's more relieved than anything. And yet, he still wants to help any way he can."

"That does not surprise me," Miss Spider said with a small smile. "I am just hoping this weekend will not be too much for James. The worst of the storm may be over on Sunday, but Dylan will likely have to stay with us until we drop him off at school on Monday."

"I know. But I have a bit of a plan to make our dear boy's weekend a bit easier."

"Oh?"

"Yes. James mentioned that the newest book in that Royal Adventures series he favors so much was just released. I think I'll make a quick stop at the bookstore on my way home tomorrow."

"That will for sure brighten him up," Miss Spider said with a nod.

"Of course. Plus, I know he's just finished his project and will be showing us tonight. I want to reward him for his hard work."

"I wanna present!"

Both Miss Spider and Mr. Grasshopper turned to look at Dylan. In the course of their conversation, both bugs had drifted into the living room and the older boy, still swaddled in his quilt on the couch, pouted at Mr. Grasshopper.

"I'm sick, so you gotta get me a present."

"Oh do I, now?"

"Yeah!"

"I don't believe that's a requirement, young man."

"It is too!" Dylan's lip quivered, though his eyes were free of tears. "Grandma says if I'm sick, I should get lots of presents to make me feel better."

"Along with plenty of sweets?" Miss Spider asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah. Where's my ice cream? You said I could have some for dinner."

"I said I would make you something to make your throat feel better," Miss Spider replied. "I never said I would be letting you eat ice cream."

"Hey! No fair!"

"My, your throat does sound better, Dylan," Mr. Grasshopper said, striding out of the room as James returned. "Why, one would think you weren't ill at all." The tall insect gave James a small smile as he passed and James couldn't help returning the grin as Dylan once more began to protest.

"I am too sick! My stomach hurts and my throat hurts and-"

"Yes, yes, you have made your point," Miss Spider said. "Now, I will bring your dinner to you and while you may watch television, you must keep the volume low because the rest of us will be eating at the table."

"Way ahead of you, Angel Fangs." Centipede came strolling through the living room, the TV remote flipping expertly from several of his hands. Aiming the device at the screen, Centipede lowered the volume to the point where it could be heard, but the sound would not disturb those in the dining room.

"That's too low!"

"Humph, better for your ears," Earthworm retorted as he slid along the floor toward the dining room. "And I still don't think you should be watching that garbage anyway."

"Yes I should! And you can't tell me what to do! I-"

"That's quite enough of that." Both Miss Spider and Mrs. Ladybug entered the room, each bearing a tray. Miss Spider set hers down on the coffee table, gesturing at the steaming bowl of soup.

"I had to use canned chicken soup, but I think it should make you feel better, Dylan."

"And here is some toast, jam, and tea." Mrs. Ladybug set the mug by the bowl of soup and the tray with the plate of toast across Dylan's lap. "That should be plenty for you, Dylan. I know you've eaten a lot of toast today and that isn't good for a stomach as queasy as yours. If you're still feeling ill after you eat, let me know. I brought home a bit of medicine from the hospital and I could make you chamomile tea as well."

"I don't want medicine!"

"Lucky for us, I don't think you'll need it." Mrs. Ladybug laid a hand on Dylan's forehead. "At least you haven't spiked a fever. Open your mouth please."

"Why?"

"I need to check your throat."

"It hurts."

"That's why I need to check it. Come, it'll just take a moment."

Dylan rolled his eyes, but upon seeing James watching, he sat up and opened his mouth wide to allow Mrs. Ladybug to examine him.

"Odd; your throat isn't red, Dylan."

"But it hurts and so does my stomach." Dylan kept an eye on James as he continued to whine. "And my head hurts and my feet hurt and-"

"Well, let's see how you feel after dinner. Sit and eat and I'll come check on you soon."

Dylan sneered at James, but his smug expression faded as Mrs. Ladybug turned to the little boy and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Come along, dearie. I know you must be hungry and you still feel a bit chilled. This stew will warm you nicely."

"Thank you, Mrs. Ladybug."

"Of course. And I'm sure you have plenty to tell us about your day at school. I want to hear everything."

"I'm still sick!"

"Yes, Dylan, I'm sure you are." Mrs. Ladybug didn't even glance in the older boy's direction as she continued to focus on James. "And your project's done, isn't it, James?"

"Yes. I just need to finish putting it together, but what I have to do won't take long. I can show you after dinner."

"I can't wait. Now come and sit down and we'll have a nice meal together."

Of course, as far as James was concerned, calling what he was served "a nice meal" was an understatement. The rich beef stew was cooked to perfection with the meat tender and juicy, the potatoes light and fluffy, and the vegetables firm, but hot. The thick rich gravy of the stew was perfectly seasoned and every bite James took sent more warmth through his body, chasing away the remaining chill the walk had left behind. The bread was freshly baked and the iced tea was refreshing without being too cold. All in all, James couldn't have asked for better.

That sentiment, however, clearly wasn't shared by Dylan. As he ate, James noticed the older boy glaring at him from the couch. Odd, given that he usually didn't like looking away from the television screen, but James noticed Dylan making faces at him as he nibbled at his toast. The little boy did his best to ignore Dylan's angry faces, which wasn't too hard as his family began to focus their attention on him.

"Big day tomorrow, eh, kid?"

"Yes. Ms. Devon said we're just going to be presenting our projects tomorrow since we won't have time to do anything else."

"We've been looking forward to seeing what you've come up with, James."

"Indeed and you've been so diligent in your work, my boy. We're quite proud of you."

"I'm still sick!" Dylan called.

"Eat your soup, Dylan. You'll feel better." Mrs. Ladybug turned back to James. "And how did your tests go today, dear?"

"Ah, yes, you were about to tell us earlier," Miss Spider added. "I am sure you did very well."

"Yes. I can show them to you when I show you my project."

"Huh, bet you got every answer right, didn't ya, kid?"

"My stomach isn't better. I need ice cream!"

"Do not pressure him, Centipede. Our James is an excellent student, no matter what."

"I'm feeling worse!"

"Nah, I wouldn't pressure the kid. I just know he's the smartest kid in his class."

"Other kids did well too," James informed Centipede. "Tessa and I got the same marks today."

"Well, she is a very smart young lady." Earthworm was clearly wincing from Dylan's yells, but he, like the rest of the family, ignored the older boy's cries for sweets.

"Indeed. But it's more the fact that you and your friends take your schoolwork seriously that is to be commended, young James."

"Ms. Devon's a good teacher and her lessons are fun."

"Talking about school is making me feel sicker!"

"Still, gettin' out early tomorrow should be fun, right, Jimmy-boy?"

"Yes. Everyone's really excited."

"And we're going to be safe and warm at home all weekend too," Mrs. Ladybug assured him. "But if anyone needs anything, please add it to the list on the refrigerator before tomorrow morning so I can pick it up. The stores are sure to be a madhouse, so I want to get there early."

"I want ice cream!"

This time, James couldn't help looking over at Dylan. The older boy was kneeling on the couch, looking over the headrest at the family. His face was red (redder than his throat to be certain) and his face was set in the fiercest pout James had ever seen. The little boy felt himself stiffen at the sight, but relaxed immediately as Miss Spider laid a hand on top of his, turning her son's attention away from Dylan.

"Have you been warm enough in your room, James?"

"Yes, but it can still be a little cold when I wake up."

"Then it is best we make sure you have extra blankest tomorrow. It is going to get very cold and you will need to be inside well before it gets dark."

"I will. I promise."

"Perhaps it's best if you come straight home tomorrow, James," Earthworm piped up. "That way, we'll know you're safe here and there won't be any chance of your freezing outside when-"

"Earthworm, honestly!" Mrs. Ladybug shook her head. "It will be cold tomorrow, but since the schools let out at half past noon, James should be able to spend some time outdoors with no issue if he wishes to."

"If it's really cold, I'll come inside straight away, Earthworm."

"Well... if you're sure."

"I WANT ICE CREEEEAAAAMMMM! I'M SIIIICCCCCKKKKKK!"

There was a pause while everyone waited for Dylan's wailing to taper off, which it did as the older boy peered over the couch to see the family's reaction.

"Right, is everyone finished?"

"I think so."

"Yes, thank you."

"Excellent. I'll start collecting the plates and then we can have dessert."

"I WANT DESSERT!"

"Should I get my project now?"

"Please do, James. We're very eager to see it."

"Okay. I'll be right back."

James handed his empty bowl and plate to Miss Spider and left the table. As he passed by the living room, Dylan hissed at him,

"Your project's gonna be stupid. No one's gonna like it."

The little boy didn't respond, having decided that his family's decision to ignore Dylan was quite effective. Dylan watched James vanish up the stairs, scowling as the rest of the family cleared the dinner dishes and began setting out cups for coffee and tea.

"Right, Dylan, still feeling poorly?" Mrs. Ladybug came over to the older boy, frowning slightly. "You barely touched your soup."

"It smelled bad and was making me sick."

"Oh dear. Well, then we'll have to see if you're well enough tomorrow to go to school."

"I won't be."

"We'll see. Would you like some tea?"

"I want ice cream and cookies and-"

"I'll make you some tea." Mrs. Ladybug carried Dylan's mostly-full bowl of soup back into the kitchen, adding,

"And I'll set this soup aside as well. If you feel hungry later, we can warm it up for you."

"I want dessert!"

Dylan flopped back onto the couch, his face still set in a scowl. Stupid bugs, why weren't they paying attention to him? He was sick; they had to pay attention to him and give him treats to make him feel better. And why was James going to get a present tomorrow? What was so good about him?

Dylan heard James come back downstairs. He heard the rustle of papers bumping against something and guess that the little boy had indeed brought his stupid project downstairs for the weird bugs to see. Huh, as if schoolwork was anything to be happy about. Dylan shut his eyes and burrowed against the couch in the hopes that James would keep walking and he wouldn't have to see the dumb project. James, meanwhile, paused and asked,

"How are you feeling?"

"Bad."

"Do you want me to get Mrs. Ladybug?"

"No. Go away."

James stared at Dylan for a moment, but oddly enough, he wasn't too hurt by Dylan's words. Really, he just felt more pity for the older boy flood through him. Dylan really did look miserable there on the couch and James remembered how Mr. Grasshopper mentioned never seeing Dylan really smile about anything since his arrival.

"I hope you feel better," James murmured before heading back into the kitchen with his project.

"Humph." Dylan kept his eyes closed as he tried to listen to the commercials being aired on the television. But there was to be no ignoring the delighted cries that came from the kitchen.

"Here it is."

"Oh, James, it's wonderful."

"Hey, you made this yourself? Atta boy!"

"A marvelous piece of work, my boy. It's even more splendid than I imagined."

"What? What is it? Tell me!"

Despite himself, Dylan was overcome with curiosity. Sitting up and poking his head over the top of the couch, Dylan was afforded a clear view of the dinging room table. In the center was a small balsa wood boat with little cloth sails hanging from the three masts. The boat was painted a dark blue, but there was gold lettering on side that Dylan couldn't quite make out. What he could see, however, was that James had placed a small stuffed otter in the center of the ship. Said otter was also adorned with a tiny hat and a piece of rich red cloth to serve as a cloak and it sat proudly at the wheel as James began to explain.

"I chose to do a project on early explorers. The ship is called a carrack; it's not as fast as the first kind of boats explorers used, but they were bigger and made for rougher seas. They could also hold more cargo when the explorers discovered anything new to show to their friends back home."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. A carrack was the type of ship Ferdinand Magellan used to sail around the world. His ship was called the Victoria."

"Indeed it was," Mr. Grasshopper said with a proud smile. "And what's yours called, James?"

"I called it the Waterdog. That's why the otter's helping me; they were considered good luck to see before a voyage, so an otter for a captain means the ship will have a safe trip."

"A lovely thought," Mis Spider said. "And you were right, my James. Your otter friend looks very happy to be helping you."

"Indeed. It's a very charming image. And well done, James; this is a fantastic piece of work!"

"Belongs in a museum, if you ask me!" Centipede declared, ruffling James's hair. "And I'll be you'll have the best project in your class tomorrow."

"Now hold on, Centipede; James and Tessa are presenting together, are you not, James?" Miss Spider asked.

"Yes. And hers is going to be amazing too."

"Hmmm." Mr. Grasshopper tapped his chin. "Given miss Tessa's love of stargazing, am I to guess her project has to do with early astronomers and how they helped explorers navigate the skies?"

"Yes, that's exactly what she's doing."

"How wonderful. I've no doubt you'll be a big hit tomorrow. Oh and are these your tests from today?"

"Yes."

"Hah!" Centipede grinned even wider and all but crushed James to him in a tight hug. "I knew it! Perfect scores on both of 'em!"

"Oh, well done, dear! You should be so proud!"

"I am. My friends and I studied hard for them," James said, as Centipede released his grip on the little boy."

"And that hard work paid off." Mr. Grasshopper took the opportunity to pull James into his own embrace. "We are all so very proud of you, James."

All the while, Dylan watched the scene from his position on the couch. The older boy felt anger surging through him as James was showered with praise and affection. It wasn't fair! It just wasn't fair! The stupid bugs; he was the one they should be paying attention to! Why were they so busy looking at James's stupid project and telling him how wonderful he was? They weren't supposed to do that!

"Well, I'd say you deserve quite a reward for your hard work, James dear. And lucky for us all, I picked these up from the bakery today."

Mrs. Ladybug vanished into the kitchen and cam back out carrying a white box tied with string. Opening it on the table, she pulled back the cardboard to reveal eight cupcakes, all frosted in rich chocolate icing and topped with a sugared almond."

"Wow, thank you, Mrs. Ladybug!"

"Of course! You certainly deserve this and we won't have a chance to eat together until Saturday, so I thought it's be a nice surprise."

"A very generous surprise indeed, thank you, Mrs. Ladybug."

"Allow me to help with the coffee and tea. James, I made some cocoa for you."

"Thanks, Miss Spider."

"Here, kid, let's set the Waterdog right on the counter where we can still see it." Centipede carefully moved the model ship onto the designated shelf, the otter still in position at the wheel. "There, perfect."

"I'm glad you like it."

"Like it? It's perfect! I'd give you an A on this for sure if I was your teacher."

"Ms. Devon's really excited to see everyone's projects and-"

"I WANT MY CUPCAKE!" Dylan couldn't stand to listen to any more praising of James and the sight of the decadent treats perched just out of reach was more than he could bear.

"I'm afraid that's out of the question." Mrs. Ladybug and Miss Spider were setting out dessert plates as Mr. Grasshopper poured out tea for those who wanted it.

"WHAT?"

"Well, you've been feeling sick all day and you said your stomach was still bothering you, correct?"

"YES! BUT-"

"As such, you won't be able to eat something so rich tonight. You'll have to wait until you're better. I'll store yours away and keep it fresh until then."

"BUT I WAAAAANNNNNT IT!"

"You're too ill," Mr. Grasshopper replied, fixing Dylan with a stern look. "You are ill, after all?"

"If he's sick, Earthworm's an eagle," Centipede whispered to James, sliding his little boy a mug of hot steaming cocoa. James ducked his head so Dylan wouldn't see him laughing, but it was true. There was no way Dylan could yell and scream for a cupcake if he was really sick.

And if his throat was sore and his stomach was hurting, he wouldn't even want a cupcake.

Very true. James smiled as Miss Spider served him his own dessert, leaning into her as she paused to hug him and lightly kiss the side of his head.

"IT'S NOT FAIR! WHY DOES HE GET A CUPCAKE AND I DON'T?" Dylan pointed at James, his face a mask of fury.

"Because James isn't sick, that's why."

"BUT-"

"Huh, I don't know how you can yell with that sore throat of yours, Dylan," Earthworm sniffed.

"Indeed. Why, it's as though your illness cleared up quite suddenly, wouldn't you agree?" Mr. Grasshopper asked with a sardonic smile as he sipped his tea.

"Guess you'll be okay for school tomorrow, eh, Dylan?" Centipede grinned and chomped into his own cupcake.

"N-no! I WON'T feel well for school! I won't!"

"Then you're not well enough for dessert," Mrs. Ladybug retorted. "Now lie back and try to rest."

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Dylan threw himself onto his stomach, laying half off the couch as he flailed his arms and legs in temper. "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! IWANT MY CUPCAKE! WWWHHHHAAAAAAAAA!"

"Goodness, what's all that racket?" Glowworm, who had been dozing comfortably in her hollow lamp, peered down from ceiling in amazement.

"Ignore him, Glowworm. He just wants attention!"

"I'M SICK! YOU GOTTA MAKE ME FEEL BETTER! YOU GOTTA! GRANDMA SAYS SO! AHAHAHAHAHAHA..." Dylan's tantrum gave way to gasps and coughs for breath, leading to several minutes of relative silence. Mrs. Ladybug kept an eye on the older boy, but didn't seem worried.

"I had a feeling that would happen. It won't shock me if he really does have a sore throat tomorrow. Ah, well, good thing I made him a mug of tea; I'll add some honey to it and that should help."

"Will he be alright?" James asked.

"Oh, no doubt about that, dear. In fact, I'm certain he'll be well enough for school tomorrow. And thank you for bringing home all of his work."

"You're welcome. I got to meet Dylan's teacher; she's nice."

"Yeah? She'll be your teacher next year, right?"

"Yes."

"Oh dear, do you think you and Dylan will be in the same class?" Earthworm asked. "He's already been held back twice and considering he hasn't done a lick of work this week, it wouldn't shock me if he had to repeat the third grade."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Mr. Grasshopper replied. "But this weekend, young Master Dylan is going to have a lot of work to do. I noticed he had a project he was meant to complete this week just as you did, James."

"Hmmm, I remember Dylan saying he did not get to do projects," Miss Spider said, raising her voice enough for Dylan to hear.

"GRANDMA DOES THEM! SHE SAYS I DON'T HAVE TO! AND I'M SICK, SO I CAN'T!"

"He's gonna keep sayin' that, innit he?"

"Well he can say it until he's blue in the face," Mr. Grasshopper replied. "But like it or not, he's going to have do some hard work this weekend and since we have no choice, but to remain indoors, he can join me in the study and complete his assignments."

"I DON'T WANNA! I DON'T WANNA! I! WANT! MY! CUPCAKE!" Dylan kicked his legs against the couch, but his last shout had clearly depleted his stamina and he lay dangling off the sofa cushions still moaning in misery.

"I think we've had enough for one night," Mrs. Ladybug announced. "Time to get ready for bed. For all of us I think."

"Yes. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Well, most of us do," Miss Spider added, smiling at James. The little boy nodded.

"I'll take my project upstairs with me and bring it down again tomorrow."

"Indeed. We'll want it to stay safe for your presentation."

Together, the family cleared the table of their dessert plates and then James retrieved his ship from the dining room counter. Miss Spider followed him into the living room, instructing him as she did.

"I am going to wash your bedding tomorrow before I get ready for work. Be sure to have that and any other laundry ready for me."

"I will."

"And you will need two pairs of socks tomorrow, James, along with your warmest clothes."

"I have them ready."

"Good." Miss Spider cast a disapproving look in Dylan's direction before turning back to her son and laying a gloved hand on his cheek. "We all know Dylan is playing pretend, my James, but I do not want to risk you catching a chill tomorrow. You can wash up tonight, but tomorrow, promise me you will have a very hot bath."

"I promise. I'll probably want to a hot bath tomorrow anyway."

"I am sure." Miss Spider kissed James's forehead. "Off you go now. Bedtime soon. For all of us, I think.
************************************************************************************************************************************

"Here you go. You can stay on your truck until tomorrow." James placed his otter toy on the hood of the toy truck, carefully arranging her red cloak as he did. "Okay, you can still wear your cape. I think it looks good on you."

The otter shifted slightly as the toy settled against the truck's windshield, her head tilting slightly. James giggled and reached up to put his hand on the truck's roof.

"You think the cloak looks good too, right?"

Under the little boy's hand, the truck shifted slightly, as though it wanted to say that yes, the cloak suited his little otter very well indeed.

"See? Everyone thinks so. And you'll be a great captain tomorrow too. Oh, but don't worry," James added to the truck. "I'll bring her home right after. It's going to be really cold tomorrow and no one should be away from home then."

Was just his imagination or did the otter and truck seem to be moving slightly, as though nodding in agreement. James watched them, an idea for a story already forming in his head. He'd tell Tessa about it tomorrow and he was certain she'd like it. They'd need lots of their stuffed animals to act it out and Tessa would need some toy cars and trucks of her own, but James was certain this game would be-

A loud crash from downstairs jerked James out of his thoughts. Footsteps thumped down the hall and James had just enough time to crack his door open before the shouting began.

"Dylan Anderson!"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake!"

"Explain yourself, young man!"

"I WANTED MY CUPCAKE AND YOU DIDN'T GIVE IT TO ME!"

Uh-oh, what had Dylan done now? James crept down the stairs, his slippered feet making no noise on the stairs as he descended to view the scene. Most of the family was crowded around the kitchen doorway, but James immediately noticed that Dylan was gone from the couch and one of the dining room chairs was missing.

"We told you that you were not to have that cupcake as you spent the whole day proclaiming you were ill," Mr. Grasshopper said, his voice stern. "Yet you took it upon yourself to deliberately disobey our orders!"

"I DON'T GOTTA LISTEN!"

"You most certainly do!"

"And you could have been badly hurt!" Mrs. Ladybug scolded. "If you had fallen when the chair tipped over, you could have hit your hit or broken your arm depending on how you fell."

"Well, you put my cupcake up too high!" There was a stomp of a bare foot against tiled floor. James paused, not sure if he should intrude. Miss Spider, who had been hovering near the edge of the group, spotted him and moved closer to him. As she did, James got a clear view of the kitchen. The dining room chair lay tipped on its side in front of the refrigerator and the empty cupcake box lay on the floor. Dylan was standing in the center of the room, his face and pajama shirt a mess of crumbs and chocolate icing, but the older boy didn't look the least bit sorry or worried. If anything, he seemed almost indignant as he declared,

"And I wasn't sick, so I can eat it, so there!"

There was a slight pause as everyone waited to see if the older boy realized what he'd said.

"So... you weren't sick, were ya?" Centipede asked, snorting back laughter.

"No! I mean YES! I mean-" Realization finally dawned on Dylan's icing-smeared face.

"Yes, we know what you mean, Dylan. We knew you were faking your illness," Mrs. Ladybug informed him.

"But... you... I thought..."

"We know what you thought and you thought incorrectly. You were feigning illness to avoid going to school and now you have just admitted it." Mr. Grasshopper crossed his arms and glared at the young miscreant.

"You let me stay home!"

"Yes, we did," Mrs. Ladybug agreed. "And you got to see what an actual sick day was like, Dylan. No extra sweets, no rich food, and now you have extra schoolwork to complete on top of the work you were already avoiding."

"And it's work you will do," Mr. Grasshopper added. "Especially since you will have nothing else to focus on this weekend."

"And don't try the whole 'I'm sick again' angle, kid," Centipede added. "You blew it; it ain't gonna work now and unless Mrs. Ladybug says different, we're just gonna assume you're fakin'."

"BUT THAT'S NOT FAIR!"

"You brought it on yourself. And now, I suggest you get to bed. After all," Mr. Grasshopper added, "you have school tomorrow."

"But first, we need to clean you up."

"NO NO NO! I DON'T WANNA! I DON'T WANNNNNNAAAAAA!"

Dylan's pleas fell on deaf ears as Mr. Grasshopper and Mrs. Ladybug seized hold of his arms and all but dragged the older boy toward the downstairs washroom. Miss Spider sighed and shook her head, her arm around James's shoulders as she spoke.

"Perhaps Dylan should spend the night on the couch if he is going to carry on like this. I do not want him waking you up, James."

"I don't know why he even wanted that cupcake. Mrs. Ladybug said he ate a lot of toast and jam today; he's probably going to have a stomach ache now."

"Perhaps he will. But that will be of his own making, James and he will have to live with it."

"And go to school?"

"Oh yes. Dylan is going to school tomorrow whether he likes it or not. And if he has given himself stomach trouble, perhaps he will actually learn from it. But do not mind Dylan anymore, James." By now, Miss Spider and James had reached the little boy's bedroom. "It is bedtime."

With a stifled yawn, James curled up in his bed and allowed Miss Spider to tuck the blankets tightly around him. She gazed around her son's room once more to make sure all was well, smiling as she spotted the otter.

"Your friend looks happy."

"I know. And I think the truck likes her cape too."

"She will make a fine little captain for you tomorrow." Smiling, Miss Spider kissed James goodnight and ran her fingers through hi hair. "To sleep now, my James. And have a good dream tonight. We are here and all will be well."

"I know."

And all would be well. As James drifted off to sleep, his thoughts were peaceful, despite the muffled noise that came from downstairs and no nightmares would trouble the little boy's slumber that night.

But Miss Spider had spoken correctly when she said tomorrow would be a very long day indeed.