|The Toy (standard:drama, 976 words)|
|Author: MaryG||Added: Jun 25 2002||Views/Reads: 1736/1072||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|A boy learns a lesson that remains with him and lives on in his adulthood.|
It was 1952 and my father was away at war, leaving me and my mother behind to face the world alone. I was ten. My mother was a nurse and worked at the local hospital a few blocks from where we lived. We both resided in a small apartment in the city. It was noisy, cold in the winter, smoldering in the summer and very cheap. My mother argued with the landlord constantly, as did the other tenants. To their dismay, the landlord made promises which he never kept. My mother's only revenge for this wicked man was that he would burn in hell someday. I learned a valuable lesson that year which carries on to this day. The bell rang and thoughts of Christmas were the only thing on my mind. I raced home from school in the fresh snow that fell while I was in school. It laid there on the ground, white and smooth, waiting for my boots to disturb its beauty. I stopped briefly to gather some snow in my hands, packing it tight, then I threw it at Susie Parker as I ran past her. "Danny, I telling your mother on you," she cried. The five story building where I live was made of brown bricks. There was a large, cement stoop in front of the building as you enter. Long wooden steps reached up to our apartment and continued to the top of the building. At the very top of the steps was a door that led you to the roof. The summer brought many parties up there. The 4th of July was the best time to be up there. Sometimes I would go up there and watch old man Macinni tend to his pigeons. The apartment was empty when I arrived and a note was attached to the refrigerator. My mother was working a double shift and left me instructions for the day. I became angry and ripped the note in several pieces. We planned on making Christmas cookies together and my mother spoiled it by working. I sulked for several minutes, then realized I was alone. My mother hid Christmas present somewhere in her bedroom and I found this to be the perfect opportunity to investigate. I carefully rummaged through her closet, finding most of the gifts wrapped. All but one toy, a model airplane. I took the airplane in the living room and played with it for a long time. I was still mad at my mother and I aimed the airplane hard and high in the air. It came crashing down on the floor, breaking one of its wings. I stood frozen with my eyes and mouth wide open, staring down at the plane. Oh boy, am I in trouble! Picking up the broken parts, I thought, how was I going to explain this? I had no money in my piggyback. Where did my mother buy the plane? How can I make some money to replace it? Who would give me a job now? On Christmas Eve! Then I heard my mother coming through the door. This is awful! Why was she coming home now? I raced to my room, hiding the broken plane under my sweater. "Danny?" "Yeah Mom?" I shouted through the closed door. "I'm on a break. I came home to take a present to one of my patients," she shouted back at me. I sat on my bed, unable to come up with an explanation for the toy missing in her closet. The silence was torture. I did not hear my mother asking herself, where did that toy go? Or yell for me to come in her room. All I heard was a gentle knock on my door. I slowly went to the door and opened it. My mother stood there, leaning against the door frame with her arms folded in front of her. She stared at the lump that protruded from my belly. After telling my mother the horrible truth, she made me put my coat on and told me to follow her. We left our apartment and walked to the hospital. I stayed one pace behind her, my head bowed down as we walked. The avenue was dressed with Christmas lights and tinsel. People busied the streets with their arms full of packages. I thought they all were staring at me for the terrible thing I did. I knew why my mother Click here to read the rest of this story (25 more lines)
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