The Redemption... oh, come on, it's Wyn.

I wasn't very happy that Lochinvar had found me.

In fact, I was plain out annoyed.

Stinked.

Stepped on.

OK, so stepped on isn't a really good way to describe it.

"Irk" is better.

Yes, I was irked.

Directly at Lochinvar, if you get my drift.

"What do you think you were doing?!" cried Dad when I got back.

"Riding Lochinvar's horse," I answered.

Dad didn't really appreciate that.

Dad: Go to your room immediately!

Me: I can't. Remember? It's full of the visitors.

Dad: Well, then go to the attic!

Me: I can't, because it's full of junk.

Dad: Well... well... go to the kitchen!

Me: OK!

I quickly went off to the kitchen.

Of course, that wasn't so bad, because the cook likes me and she gave me all kinds of yummy food. I was devouring my last tart when all of a sudden I heard a voice that made me choke.

"Umm... umm... I'm here, cook," called Walter Scott from over at the door.

The cook turned and brightened. "Ah, yes! Our new kitchen help!"

Walter Scott froze at the sight of me.

I sighed.

I'm sorry to admit it, but I was kinda sorry that I was rude to him.

OK, I wasn't "kinda" sorry.

I was sorry.

"Hey, cook," I said. "I think that maybe there's someone for you out in the hallway."

"Really?" Cook murmured to herself as she left. "How peculiar..."

I quickly turned to Walter Scott.

"I'm sorry," I blurted.

He grinned. "That's OK."

I frowned. "Why's that OK?"

"I guess what I mean to say is that I forgive you," he coughed. "By the way, all of my friends call me Walt."

I wanted to spit back at him that I wasn't his friend, but I managed to shake his hand tentatively and answer, "Oh, yeah. All of my friends call me Wyn." Hey, I just felt bad for him.

"Maybe I'll see you later," smiled Walt as I started for the door.

I smiled. "Yeah, maybe."

Not on your life.