Wild POST appears! What will READER do?

It's been far too long since I updated the blog. I've already assured Economics student Timothy Reginald Murdock that my writing has continued, but it's all been stuff that's either horrid or of even less interest to this blog's readership than my usual posts.

Oh look! A short story!


Once upon a time there was a boy who broke his neighbor's window. A few minutes later the old man limped his way onto the porch.

"Boy! What did you do to my window?" the man asked.

"It was an accident, sir. I was playing baseball." The small chunk of cinder block was heavy and sharp in his pocket.

"I'll be talking to your parents about the window when they get home. Get in here. No point in me keeping your ball." The boy was forced to walk with a slow pace rather than rushing ahead of the old man. It was a few minutes before they were in the living room, and once they were both inside the old man collapsed in an overstuffed recliner. "I was in the kitchen when the window broke. Didn't see where it went. My knees aren't what they used to be, so if you want your ball I'm afraid you'll need to look for it yourself."

The boy pretended to search for the imaginary ball while he scanned the room for something more important. There, on the inside of the corner cabinet, was the golden glowy thing. He continued to look for the ball. Maybe ten minutes passed, and the old man looked to be getting impatient. "Can't find it, boy?"

"I'm afraid not, sir. Do you suppose it could have rolled into that room over there?" the boy asked as he pointed down the hallway.

"That's my bedroom. I don't want you looking around in there, but I'll check as best I can." The old man lifted himself from the chair and made his way down the hall.

The boy was as quiet as he could be. He lifted the hook-and-eye lock and held his breath as the cabinet made a tiny squeak. He took the golden glowy thing off of the shelf and put it back in his pocket. Hearing the old man on his way back from the bedroom, the boy rushed to close and lock the cabinet. Again it creaked, and the boy hoped the old man's hearing was bad. He sat on the couch and tried to act as if nothing had happened.

"I didn't see any ball in there. My granddaughter is coming down to visit in a couple days. I'll see if I can get her to check behind the dresser and under the bed for me."

"Thank you, sir."

"You better get along home, now."

"Yes, sir."

"But would you mind telling me what's in your pocket first?"

The boy looked around, panic-stricken. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not deaf, and it's no accident that I've got a creaky cabinet."

The boy reached into his pocket and held out the golden glowy thing. "I'm sorry. It was just so beautiful."

"Was it worth breaking a window for?" The boy didn't reply, so the old man answered for him. "Yes. Yes it was. This little ball is worth breaking open a window, it's worth breaking into a house, and it's even worth killing a man. Ten men. Twenty-seven, in one case." He held it up so the tiny sunlight was reflecting off of it. The ball looked as if it was full of crashing waves and twinkling stars. "This thing is more than a pretty marble. Much more."

The boy had no idea what to say. Kill a man? He almost turned to run when the old man stepped forward. "I think we can make a deal, boy. You don't tell anyone about this thing, and I won't tell your parents about the window. You stop stealing my valuables, and I'll do a better job of hiding them." The boy nodded in agreement. The man stuck out his hand, the boy shook it, and the boy left.

The boy's parents came home, and true to his word the old man never told them. The summer went and while the boy tried to put the golden glowy thing out of his mind, he still sometimes saw it in his dreams. A few years later, he and his family moved.

His senior year of high school the boy's parents told him that their old neighbor had died. And a few days later he received a small box in the mail, the return address belonging to the house next to the one where he had spent his childhood. He remembered the golden glowy thing. The boy rushed upstairs, opened the box, and reached inside.

Holding the baseball, he laughed.