“So, Pop-Pop was saying something today, and I just need to get your perspective, Glendella, because you know more silly rich people.”
“Sure, Velma. I definitely am an expert about that.”
Eleven-year-old Velma Trent was talking with ten-year-old Glendella Ludlow, who was adopted by her big cousin Capt. R.E. Ludlow out of a branch of the Ludlow family full of silly rich people.
“So, Pop-Pop is a billionaire,” Velma said, referring to her mother's father, Mr. Thomas Stepforth Sr., “and he was saying to one of my cousins that the bigger and more sparkly a necklace you see in the wild is, the more likely it is a cheap necklace.”
“Facts,” Glendella said.
“But why?” Velma said.
“Because it doesn't matter how much money anybody has: if they think you have something they don't that they want, they can get mad and want to take it from you at every level, so, only silly rich people who haven't been rich for a minute don't understand they are just as unsafe in the parlor as they are in the streets, bringing their real big sparkly stuff out.”
“You would think at some point people would have enough,” Velma said.
“But it' not about the money … like, some people collect women,” Glendella said. “If Bad Grandma were my wife, I like to think I wouldn't have three mistresses, but, that's Grumps for you, because if you just don't know how to be satisfied with your life, it doesn't matter what you have.”
Velma considered this.
“It is a beautiful day in September,” she said. “It's kinda full of nice things and everybody seems to be chilling around here.”
“Yeah, and that is the good part: people around here are content with the love that they have,” Glendella said. “God is good and so are our family and friends, most of the time.”
Velma followed Glendella's gaze, and there went nine-year-old George Ludlow and nine-year-old Milton Trent across the Trent yard, talking about solar sails for propulsion.
“I think we just need to talk our folks into getting us enough magnifying glasses and mirrors so we can get the light under our space sailboat for lift and stuff,” Milton was saying.
“Maybe we could flatten and polish up some aluminum foil for a shortcut,” George said.
“Yeah, that's a great idea!” Milton said.
“Well,” Velma said as the two boys passed on, “we are not in Heaven yet.”
“And no family is perfect,” Glendella said. “How long do you think it is going to take for them to get grounded today?”
“About as long as it takes one of them to be caught spit-polishing a whole roll of aluminum foil,” Velma said, “but it is a beautiful day in September. Maybe God will distract them with something else.”
