Free Ellray Jakes the Dragon Slayer by Sally Warner Page B

closet,” Dad tells him, his voice extra-polite, but cool. “I’ll tell Louise you said good-bye,” he adds, sliding Mr. Washington’s coat off its hanger.
    “She’s probably busy with Alfie,” Stanley says, like he’s the expert on our family.
    But his eyes are still shining with relief as Dad opens our front door and the cold night air WHOOSHES in.
    “Thanks,” Stanley whispers as his dad is shaking my dad’s hand, which I guess is somethinggrown-ups do even when they don’t like each other very much.
    Or at all.
    “It’s okay,” I tell Stanley.
    “I’m sorry about your allowance,” Stanley says, making a face.
    “I’ll live,” I say, shrugging like it’s no big deal.
    It
is
a big deal, but I
will
live.
    I’m just glad I’m not Stanley.
    I mean, poor him!

17
AN APOLOGY
    Alfie always goes to bed before I do, of course, since she’s only four years old. It takes Mom a long time to settle her down. There are a lot of stories, cuddles, drinks of water, and trips to the bathroom involved. Sometimes Dad has to step in and say,
“Good night, Alfleta,”
in his deepest professor voice to put an end to it.
    Bedtime is much easier with me. Mom usually reads a chapter or two from a book that’s too hard for me to read alone, or she reads one that I want to hear again, but with my eyes closed. She doesn’t cuddle me as much as she used to, though, because I’m eight. My call.
    Boys grow out of that stuff faster than girls, I think. I don’t know. It’s not like I’m about to take a survey and ask the kids in my class, is it?
    My dad usually pokes his head in my doorwayand booms out a “Night, EllRay! Don’t let the bedbugs bite.” But we don’t really have any bedbugs at our house. That’s just an expression.
    Tonight, though, I have gone to bed earlier than usual. I’m still worn out from Stanley’s dad coming over to accuse me in person of being a bully, and from my dad’s anger, and also from my secret battle with Suzette Monahan.
    I just want today to be
over
. Sleep can do that for you, and it’s free. Right now, Mom is still busy herding Alfie from her bedroom to the bathroom, then back again, with lots of chatter all along the way, so I guess there won’t be any reading tonight. I’ll probably be asleep before Alfie, which is just— MORTIFYING .
    “EllRay?” a voice says from just outside my door.
    It’s my dad! But it’s too early for the bedbug thing. What’s going on?
    To tell the truth, I’m still a little mad at him. Why did he believe Mr. Washington at first about me bullying Stanley at school? Yeah, he knows the truth
now
, but he still believed Plaid Dad. And as far as I know, they’d never even met.
    I could pretend to be asleep, but like I said before, my dad can always tell when I’m lying. Or faking. Or pretending.
    “Mmm?” I answer, trying to sound as sleepy and out-of-it as possible.
    Maybe he’ll go away.
    “May I come in?” Dad says.
    “It’s your house,”
I feel like saying, but of course I don’t. I am wa-a-a-ay too tired for a lecture on manners.
    “Sure,” I say instead.
    I just hope he doesn’t sense with his special Dadly powers that I still have my dirty socks on under the covers, because according to my mom, that’s not allowed.
    But I was too tired to take them off. Let my feet rot. I don’t care.
    Dad sits down on the edge of my bed and looks around in the near-dark. Comic books are scattered on the end of my bed, and my sweatshirt, jeans, and belt are crumpled on the floor, right where I left them. There’s a half-finished model of a dinosaur on my desk, and a jacket, sweatshirt,and soccer ball are piled on the chair.
    Now, Dad probably thinks I’m a slob, on top of everything else bad about me.
    “Were you going to say good night?” I ask quickly, before he can criticize me for that, too.
    “No,” Dad says, his voice low. “I came to offer you an apology, EllRay. I should never have doubted that you were innocent. I know you