31-THE FURRY TREE

THE FURRY TREE When I got home. I fell into my comfy bed. At midnight, I woke up with a jolt. Someone was ringing my doorbell. I pulled on my bathrobe and shuffled to the door. "Who is it?" I mumbled. "I am an evil spirit!" called out a shaky voice. I gulped. Could it really be a ghost? Could one have followed me all the way home? I looked through the peephole. No, there was not a ghost outside my door. It was only Trap. "Did I scare you?" he sniggered. I banged open the door. "What do you want?" I squeaked, annoyed.

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My cousin brushed by me. "Have you heard the news?" he said. "The agency made a mistake. I am not a descendant of the Von Trappens. But I may be related to Maximilian of Mousehara. Look. I've got the furry tree!" "It's a family tree, not a furry tree," I sighed. Trap wasn't listening. "It turns out my ancestor was a famous explorer. He traveled to the far corners of the Mousehara Desert," he babbled on. "I'm going there myself. To Mousehara, I mean. You're going to come with me, right? By the way. since my forefathers are yours, too, I told the agency to bill you for the whatchamacallit, you know... the furry tree." Before he could say another word, I leaped across the room and threw him out the door, screaming, "Get lost!"

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