Wood Sprites

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Louise Georgina Mayer learned many important life lessons the week before her ninth birthday. The first was that flour was indeed explosive. The second was not to experiment with explosives indoors — or at least not in a small wooden playhouse that doubled as a film studio. The third was that adults — firemen, EMTs, policemen, her parents — liked to state the obvious when trying to make a point. Yes, she realized that they’d miscalculated while still airborne — thank you very much. The fourth was that her twin sister rocked — Jillian sat there with blood streaming down her face and managed a wide-eyed story of innocence that pinned the entire event on their Barbie dolls. Fifth was that people believed the stupidest things if you delivered the story while bleeding.

Sixth was that her parents were liars.

“That can’t be right,” she told the emergency room nurse who was applying the bracelet to her wrist that claimed she was blood-type AB. The man blithely ignored her, so she said it louder and clearer. “That’s not right.”

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