I speed through breakfast the next morning and bolt out of the house to knock on Uncle Abe"s camper door.
"Whoa," he says when he opens the door with a coffee mug clutched in his fist. "You"re like a pony stomping around in the stall, eager for the pasture."
"I"m ready for my next lesson. I"ve been practicing the tele… telek… what you called it."
"Telekinesis." He looks into his mug. "Appears I got a couple swallows left." He takes one.
I"m near dancing with impatience.
"And I needs to get on my boots."
He takes another drink, tipping the mug to drain the last drop.
"Ahh. Nothing like a spot of coffee to warm old bones."
AhhI"m hoping he invites me in, seeing I"m powerful curious about the inside of his little home on wheels.
Instead, he says, "Go on back to where we were last tim
