Teddie quickly became tired of the attention that poor little Tammy Lou was getting over the loss of her stupid, good-for-nothing doll.
He had a difficult time hiding his disgust and contempt.
In the end, Tammy Lou had insisted that they bury Sally in the backyard, near her mom’s petunias.
Through her persistence, Teddie even had to attend the funeral service.
Not only did he have to attend, but he had to get dressed in his Sunday best suit,
complete with scratchy collar,
choking tie and pinching shoes.
Since they hadn’t gone to Church since his dad died,
his Sunday suit was old and didn’t fit right.
Worse still, it had been another one of Grandma Garvin’s special creations.
She had insisted that little boys were supposed to wear short pantsuits
although the shorts and jacket had been big when he was Tammy Lou’s age, now they were far too tight.
The shorts dug into his waist and upper thighs.
Even worse, they were apparently modeled after little boy shorts because they had no-fly and had an elastic waistband.
Teddie couldn’t remember that last time he had worn dress pants without a fly.
The jacket sleeves of his suit rose a good two inches above his wrist.
But the ultimate insult was that the suit was made of blue velvet.
In bejezus name, what boy wore velvet anything?
Teddie had the distinct feeling that if he stretched his back and flexed his arms like the Incredible Hulk,
his jacket would immediately burst open at every seam.
And while that prospect was both cool and awesome at the same time,
the fact that the legs of his short pants were now only a little more than crotch length
and that the openings were so small that he couldn’t even fit his little finger between his skin and the hem
overshadowed any feelings of power and strength that Teddie could have enjoyed.
Instead, it was like he was being attacked by a blue velvet boa constrictor.
Teddie was absolutely fuming by the time the funeral was over
he knew that if he didn’t get away quick,
he would explode with anger and confess everything to try to make them all see just how dumb they were being.
That no matter what ridiculous clothes they dressed him in,
it wouldn’t change the fact that he was a young Hercules, and destroying Sally had been one of his tasks to perform.
Only he was sure they wouldn’t see things as he did.
Overall, however, everything went pretty smoothly.
Teddie wasn’t implicated in even the slightest way.
No one even questioned if Sally’s accident had been something other than an accident.
Not even Tammy Lou,
in her reason-altering grief, tried to accuse Teddie.
The only close call came from Grandma Garvan.
Grandma Garvan had been watching Teddie from the minute she walked in the house.
Her accusing eyes followed him wherever he went.
He could feel her hard stare and unreadable face burning into his soul,
searching out the truth, threatening to expose him and his secret.
As a counterattack,
Teddie just tried to stay away from her.
He even tried being nice to her in an attempt to avoid any confrontation.
His mother thought that he was just more reserved considering what had happened.
Grandma Garvan looked like she knew better.
Teddie had done a pretty good job of avoiding his grandma during the day,
and things were going well,
until she managed to corner him in his room after the mockery of a funeral.
Teddie had slipped off as soon as the final prayer was over and he had dashed up to his room to pry himself out of his hated suit.
He even purposefully messed up his hair with his hands,
destroying the perfectly styled,
carefully combed part that his mother always insisted on putting in his hair whenever they got dressed up.
Satisfied that he looked casually rumpled and windblown,
he was practically tearing off his clothes when his grandma walked into his room without knocking.