Chapter 2

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"Look, Harley, Daddy's home!" exclaimed Mrs. Quinzel, as the door to the apartment opened and Mr. Quinzel entered.

"Daddy!" cried little Harleen Quinzel, rushing to meet her father. He lifted her up in his arms, beaming.

"Hi, princess!" he exclaimed, kissing her. "Did you have a fun day with Mommy?"

"We drew pictures," replied Harleen, holding up a piece of paper. "See? It's a clown, like we saw at the circus last week."

"That's right! He was funny, wasn't he?" asked Mr. Quinzel, as his wife came over to kiss him and help him off with his hat and coat.

"Yeah. I liked when his pants fell down and the dog started pulling on them, and he fell over!" laughed Harleen. Her father joined her in laughing as they headed over to the small table in the center of the room, where Mrs. Quinzel had prepared dinner.

"You know, when I was a boy, I wanted to run away and join the circus, but my parents insisted that I finish school," said Mr. Quinzel. "Wise people."

"I wanna join the circus when I grow up, Daddy," replied Harleen, nodding.

"You wanna be a clown, Harley?" asked her father.

"Maybe. Or an acrobat," said Harleen.

"You wouldn't be scared jumping around like that so high off the ground?" asked Mrs. Quinzel as she brought out the casserole.

"Nah uh," said Harley, shaking her head. "I ain't scared of nothing!"

Her father laughed. "My brave girl," he said, kissing her affectionately.

"How was work, dear?" asked Mrs. Quinzel, sitting down across from him.

"Oh, it was...uh...fine, Gladys," stammered Mr. Quinzel. "Same as usual, y'know."

"You're a little late getting back," she commented.

"Oh yeah, I just...uh...cut through the park," he said. "Felt like getting some fresh air."

"Who was the man following you?" she asked.

He stared at her. "What man?" he asked.

"Didn't you see him?" said Mrs. Quinzel, puzzled. "I was looking for you out the window, and there was this man trailing you to the end of the street. He stayed for a moment to watch you go inside, and then left. I thought he might be a friend of yours who was seeing you home."

"No, I..." stammered Mr. Quinzel, feeling his heart hammering in fear. "I...uh...I dunno who it was."

"Well, that's funny," said Mrs. Quinzel.

"Yeah...funny," agreed Mr. Quinzel. He cleared his throat. "Uh...look, Gladys, maybe we should...uh...go away for a couple days."

"Go away?" she repeated, surprised. "Why?"

"Just feel like...taking a vacation," he said, slowly.

"A vacation?" repeated Harleen, excitedly. "Can we go to Disneyland?"

"Maybe, princess," he said, laughing. "We should go tonight, though – we should get packing..."

"George...is something wrong?" asked Mrs. Quinzel, concerned. "You would tell me, wouldn't you?"

"Of course I would," he replied. "Nothing's wrong, I just...feel like a little...break. I still have a couple days leave from work – we'll phone the bank from the hotel tomorrow morning and tell them we've gone outta town. It'll be fine."

Mrs. Quinzel studied him. "Harley, do you wanna eat your dinner in front of the TV tonight?" she asked, turning to smile at her daughter.

"Do I!" exclaimed Harleen, happily. "Can I watch cartoons?"

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