Ira Glass

Your little Paul is Timothy's only friend.

I decided to spend the afternoon in the ravine.

The sun started down behind the embankment, and the moon, rising early, emerged from the rooftops of the houses somebody was putting up in front of the school.

The moon, I noticed, was not quite full.

I didn't hear the scrape of footsteps until they were just above my head.

Paul, said Mrs. Gladfelter, leaning over the lip of the ravine, hands against her thighs.

Paul Covell, what on earth are you doing out here?

Nothing, I said.

I didn't hear the bell.

Paul, she said.

Now listen to me, Paul.

I need your help.

With what?

I didn't think she looked angry, but her face was upside down and it was hard to tell.

with Timothy, Paul.

I guess he's just very wound up right now.

He's pretending he's a werewolf today, and even though that's fine, and we all know how Timothy is sometimes, we have serious things to discuss with him, and we'd like him to stop pretending for just a little while.

"'What if he isn't pretending?'

I said.

"'What if he really is a werewolf?'