There was a real Dr. Frankenstein atmosphere later that night around that 100-year-old dinner table. There were winds howling and rain slashing outside but peace and quiet inside. Calusa played the part of Igor. The cat was some sort of familiar from some other movie, like Dracula or something. Lightning, the border collie, took his usual crouching stance, eyeing the cat carefully, probably trying to figure out how to herd her.
There was an old, uh, what do you call it, candelabra in the middle of the table that lit the place up somewhat but cast these shadows on everyone’s faces and across the room, giving it a real spooky sort of feel. Looking towards the head of the table, I noticed Harrison’s face, his torso rigid in an upright position.
“Yes. I think an explanation is in order, but I am not sure if the setting is quite right at the moment to do that.” He looked over at Kate. Her duck was wedged next to her in her chair. The cat was on the floor, about to jump up on the table.
Lightning kept his eyes on the cat.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” The words, coming from the mouth of babes, fell like a shroud over the room. A clap of thunder boomed outside.
The cat jumped on the table.
We were in a scene from an old Frankenstein movie.