Ira Glass

I was almost, but not quite, embarrassed.

It's filled with darts of my special antidote, and I made it stronger than it used to be, and it's going to work this time.

And also there's a tranquilizer mixed in.

Timothy looked up and bared his teeth at me, and I took aim right between his eyes.

I jerked my hands twice and went...

Timothy's head snapped back, and his eyelids fluttered.

He shook himself all over.

He swallowed once.

Then he held his hands out before him, as if wondering at their hairless pallor.

It seems to have worked, he said, his voice cool and reasonable and fine.

Anyone could see he was still playing his endless game, but all the grown-ups, Mr. Buterbaugh in particular, looked very pleased with both of us.

Thank you very much, Paul, he said.

I'm not Paul, I said.

Everybody laughed but Timothy Stokes.

Michael Chabon, reading an excerpt from his short story, Werewolves and Their Youth.

You can find it in the collection of short stories with the same name.

Coming up, kids talking kid talk, adults not understanding, but you will...

As our special Kids Say the Darnedest Things edition of our program continues in a minute from Chicago Public Radio when our program continues.

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