Yesterday, I got in trouble again. Twice.
I went to visit my mom at The Club and saw a snazzy guy grabbing her butt. I pointed and yelled "Reacher! Reacher!" Dan Lazar, the manager, made me leave.
Things were better later. At home. Mom wore her robe with the red griffin. I massaged her feet, and we drank tea.
But at night, a moonbeam followed me, so I snuck into the old folk's home again. I took off my pants and got into an empty bed. Helicopters flew by, and I started making helicopter noises as loud as I could.