Mountain Moonlight - By Jane Toombs Page 0,16

was having."

"The little girl's mother didn't sew and her father thought buying a ready-made costume was a waste of money, so her mother taped together a white dress out of old left-over crepe paper stored in the attic. She trimmed it with gold fronds meant to decorate a Christmas tree. The little girl thought she was beautiful in the paper dress, especially after her mother curled her straight hair."

"As she walked down the block to the party house, it began to rain. Her pretty dress just sort of turned to mush and her curls disappeared, so she ran home crying."

"Her mother didn't have any more crepe paper, but she found a piece of black cloth. So she cut a hole in it for the little girl's head to go through, other holes for her arms and trimmed it off so it made a long dress. She braided the little girl's hair, made a pointed hat out of cardboard, colored it black with a crayon and told the little girl it had stopped raining and now she could go as a witch."

"The little girl didn't like that idea one bit, she was sure she looked awful and everyone would make fun of her. Then her father said, 'A princess is boring. A witch is interesting. Wouldn't you rather be interesting?'

"Well, she didn't know whether she would or not, but she went to the party as a witch. No one laughed at her and so she had a good time after all."

After a pause, Davis said, "Grandpa was right. I think witches are more interesting. For one thing, they get to turn people into frogs."

"While the poor, boring princess only gets to kiss the frog," Bram put in. "Ribbet," he croaked.

That cracked Davis up.

"The best I can come up with is a story about something funny that happened while I was at law school," Bram said.

In her surprise, Vala blurted, "You're a lawyer?"

He shrugged. "I know everyone hates lawyers but someone has to do it."

"How come you're a guide, then?" Davis asked.

"Which would you rather be?" Bram countered.

"A guide!"

"So you've answered the question. It's like witching, guiding is more interesting."

"For your story, I think I'd rather hear why you switched professions," Vala said. "You said yours would be about lightning--so how did it strike and change your mind?"

"It's not as funny as the law school incident."

"We don't care, do we, Davis?"

"I want the lightning story," Davis told him.

"You might say it all started off with a necktie," Bram began. "I happen to hate them. In Arizona you can usually get by with a bolo tie, but not in the court room. So I bought a expensive silk, very conservative, navy blue tie, learned how to put the correct knot in it and never unknotted it, just slipped it over my head until the next court case. Kept the thing in my blazer pocket, left the blazer hanging at the office."

"At the time my mother was making rag rugs from old nylon stockings and panty hose and was always scrounging for them. So I asked the secretaries in the law firm I worked for to save hose they couldn't use for my mother's rugs. Came a day in court. The day before, one of the secretaries told me she'd brought me a pair of old black panty hose. I was busy at the time and told her to just stuff them somewhere out of sight."

"On the court day I'm running late, grab the blazer, put it on when I'm almost to the door of the court, reach in my pocket for the tie, slide it over my head and try to tighten it as I enter the courtroom. The judge, who's just been seated, stares straight at me, his eyebrows rising higher and higher."

"I fumble with the tie, can't find the knot. Not until the snickering starts do I realize what I've done." He paused. "Know what it was?"

"I bet that's where your secretary put her black panty hose," Davis said, snickering himself. "In your pocket."

Vala found the picture of Bram in a courtroom with panty hose draped around his neck irresistibly funny. She and Davis couldn't stop laughing.

"Got cited for contempt of court," Bram added. "Blasted judge had no sense of humor. That's when I decided it was entirely possible I might have picked the wrong profession. End of story. Time for a song."

"Good idea," Vala told him. "How about 'You Are My Sunshine?'"

They started with that. Davis taught them a couple