Вино из одуванчиков

           "Sandwichoutdoorsisn’tasandwichanymore. Tastesdifferentthanindoors,notice? Gotmorespice. Tasteslikemintandpinesap. Doeswondersfortheappetite." 

           Douglas’stonguehesitatedonthetextureofbreadanddeviledham. No...no...itwasjustasandwich. 

           Tomchewedandnodded. "Knowjustwhatyoumean,Dad!" 

           Italmosthappened,thoughtDouglas. WhateveritwasitwasBig,mygosh,itwasBig! Somethingscareditoff. Whereisitnow? Backofthatbush! No,behindme! Nohere...almosthere... Hekneededhisstomachsecretly. 

           IfIwait,it’llcomeback. Itwon’thurt; somehowIknowit’snotheretohurtme. Whatthen? What? What? 

           "Youknowhowmanybaseballgamesweplayedthisyear,lastyear,yearbefore? "saidTom,aproposofnothing. DouglaswatchedTom’squicklymovinglips. 

           "Wroteitdown! Onethousandfivehundredsixty-eightgames! HowmanytimesIbrushedmyteethintenyears?Sixthousand! Washingmyhands:fifteenthousand. Slept:fourthousandsome-oddtimes,notcountingnaps. Atesixhundredpeaches,eighthundredapples. Pears:twohundred.I’mnothotforpears. Nameathing,Igotthestatistics! Runstothebillionmillions,thingsIdone,add’emup,intenyears." 

           Now,thoughtDouglas,it’scomingcloseagain. Why? Tomtalking? ButwhyTom?