The Cruke

A warm breeze washes over my body as the waves softly lap at the side of the boat. The boat I am on strangely resembles the cruise ship we were on a couple of months ago. I listen to the sales pitch of the ten-year old surfer boy who's missing a leg. He is touting a blow-up killer whale decoy who is also missing a leg. The stump of the plastic whale is shaped like a chicken leg. The surfer boy explains that he lost his leg last summer swimming with the killer whales, but oh, the fun to be had... it was worth it...

(...hoarse crying sounds...)

I open my eyes to the sound of Savannah sobbing, standing next to my bed, her face inches away from my face. She gives a throaty cough. I jerk my head back and glance at the bright red numbers on the clock. 4:26 am. "Calm down, Savannah. Why are you crying?" She gives a couple of heavy breaths then gasps, "I've got the cruke!"


*Cruke = croup. A coupla months ago, Savannah did have the croup. Two nights ago, Autumn had the croup. Savannah woke up last night coughing and worked herself up into a dither thinking she had the croup. She maybe had a slight touch of it, but nothing major. Colds are going around the house. Me and Seth are the only ones not touched by it... (knock on wood).