DEAR EDITOR:

Madness is a part of the DNA. My creation started back in 1959 — that evening seemed just as though it was the other night.

Boys back then had great imaginations, maybe not all. Habits develop around 66 days, a study found. We were a little different, we have accomplished it in two.

Our rendezvous happened at a local corner store, after hours, the 6×6 area a perfect place, on a stoop at the front door. Five of us huddled to tell our stories. When my turn came up, I held their attention but many doubts and questions followed.

The tale unfolded: My brother and I had gone to a cemetery in the middle of the night, unearthing a body. My brother, sitting across from me, backed it up with a nod.

Regardless of how well the tale is told, you’ll always have at least 1% that won’t believe. That trophy went to Jimmy that night. “Absurd!” was his cry, followed by “Give me a break!:

The proof is in the pudding, as they say.

“Do you want to see the body?”

Jimmy: “Yes.”

A roll of eyes followed the response.

“Be at my house tomorrow night after school — 6 p.m.”

Reality sets in like concrete. Here I sit with nobody.

The next day I scrambled to find an alibi. Do me a favor — he agreed to save me the image. Jack would lay on my closet floor (of my bedroom), draped in a sheet.

The dramatics clamored at 6 p.m. Someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“Hi Jimmy, come in. Jimmy I insist, please, don’t touch anything!”

“Ok.”

Jimmy stood in disbelief. “Please Jimmy, don’t say anything to anyone.”

“I promise. Bye.”

That was the day my creature was given life!

PAUL LAWSON

McDonald