Page 41 of Spike

“Thank you, andplease call me Sherri,” my mother said, using her ‘ministry’ voice. I couldonly imagine what she was thinking, and none of it was good.

Once she’d seatedus, Celeste disappeared back to the kitchen.

“Have you livedhere long?” Spike asked.

“I guess it’s beenabout twelve years since we moved into this house,” my father replied. “Beforemoving up here we had a place in Glenfair.”

“I still miss theold house,” I said.

My mother rolledher eyes. “Of course, you do.”

“I have a lot ofgreat memories of that place.” I shrugged. “Besides, us kids grew up in thathouse.”

“Correction, youkids outgrew that house. It started the day we brought you home from thehospital, and the house just got smaller and smaller as you all got older.”

“Praise the Lordfor providing my family with a home that fits us all now,” my father said.

“Jenson andMattias moved out years ago and I live over the garage,” I muttered.

My mother openedher mouth, no doubt to scold me, but I was saved by the arrival of Celeste andour salads.

“And for you,sir,” Celeste said, placing a salad in front of Spike.

“Thank you verymuch,” Spike said, before stopping her. “Excuse me, may I ask where you’re fromoriginally?”

“I am from Spain.Tarragona.”

“That’s nearBarcelona, right?”

Celeste smiled andnodded.

“In that case,moltesgràcies.”

Celeste replied, “Etsmés que benvingut. Jove, ets benvingut i molt guapo,” before once again,leaving us.

“Spain?” My motherreplied. “I thought Celeste was from Mexico.”

“You speakSpanish?” I asked Spike.

“Growing up, mymom’s best friend, Toni, was like an aunt to me. She was from Spain and taughtme basic conversational Spanish, more specifically Catalan. During my stay atLakewood, she sent me a book called How to Speak Catalan in a year. It took metwo and a half years to get through the book, but I did it.”

“That’s amazing,”I replied.

“Isaac Asimovsaid, ‘Self-education is, I firmly believe, the only kind of education thereis.’”

“And who is he?”my mother asked.

My father waivedhis hand dismissively. “He was a science fiction writer, dear. You wouldn’tlike his books.”

Spike lookedstunned. “Asimov was arguably one of our greatest writers, ever. He wrote overfive hundred books, and not all science fiction, either. He wrote mysteries,fantasies, and academic books on science, history, math, chemistry, andastronomy. He even wrote a handful of books about the Bible.”

“He was anatheist,” my father replied.

“Asimov consideredhimself a humanist and a secular Jew,” Spike corrected.

“Fancy ways ofsaying you’re an atheist, aren’t they?”

“According toAsimov, Atheism describes only what he didn’t believe in, so it was an incompletedescription of him.”

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