Oddmanthefirst
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The high breeze wisped across the playground, sand flickered with the wind across the serene sunset. There was no one left in the area, all had scattered back to their houses, anxiously waiting for supper. Only one boy remained in the sand. Light bounced off of his coarse black hair, he brushed a little strand from his eye and continued to play. In his hands he held a small toy truck, worn away by gradual use. The boy rolled his toy in circles, pretending it was a race between the various imaginary cars. For the final lap, he pushed the truck as hard as he could. The toy flew through the park, passing every slide, ladder, and swing; it crossed the silent street and had continued its journey into the dark passage between the apartments.
Sensing victory, a tiny grin creased the boy’s lips. He gingerly got up from the ground, brushing off the sand that clung to his denim overalls. He picked up the cap that lay beside him and stared at his name that was written onto it: Shane. Satisfied, Shane threw the hat onto his head and quickly ran to fetch his toy.
Shadows lingered every object throughout the alleyway, from torn boxes to tipped over trash cans. Shane surveyed the area, scrutinizing every little crook and nanny, searching for the lost truck. A low scuffling led Shane’s eyes astray from the task at hand. An outline of a man assembled into the distance. Hope flickered in Shane’s eyes as he timelessly trotted toward the man. “Excuse me mister! Have you seen my toy truck?” Shane wailed as he sprinted.
The figure did not respond. Instead, he stood as still as a statue, looking the other way. The man stood double the height of Shane; he wore a pure black tunic and a dark cowboy hat, which was tilted to cover his face. In a raspy voice, he said, “Is this what you were looking for?” As the stranger spoke, he turned to reveal a bright red truck in his right hand, and a coin in his left.
“Whoa! Thanks mister,” Shane shouted with glee. He smiled from ear to ear as he grasped his beloved eighteen-wheeler.
“Before you leave, I have a question for you,” the man said. He lifted his hat to reveal his face. He had a grave complexion, sullen in by life. He was a deathly pale, in contrast to his black beady eyes. He was completely hairless, and held a small coin, with which, he flicked up and down. “Have you ever had a wish?”
“Well sure I have had wishes, who hasn’t?” Shane replied sarcastically as he spun one of the wheels back and forth.
“I mean a certain type of wish, a wish that you want over anything in the world.” The stranger slyly leaned against the black brick wall, waiting for a response.
“Wait…so you want me to wish for somethin’?” the boy questioned. He squinted at the man with his deep blue eyes, searching for any expression.
“Ask, and you shall receive,” the figure grinned.
“In that case, I wish I was rich!” Shane shouted with joy. “I want to move out of that crummy old apartment. I want to be just like all the other kids in my class, they all have their own houses with their own pool and everything.”
With that the grave man flipped his coin high into the air. Before it landed, Shane caught the coin with both hands. He revealed a small and silver object; however it was not a coin that the boy had been accustomed to. It was an amateur piece of metalwork: with a deathly skull placed on one side, and a smiling face on the other. Words of a different language engulfed its edges. The boy analyzed the coin for a few more moments and then, looked up.
“Hey mister…”
But the man had already left with the shadows.
***
“You’re grounded, end of story.”
“But mommy, Jacob’s party is tomorrow. I just gotta go!” Shane shouted. The boy stared at his mother. She was a plain lady. She wore no make up and her sleek blonde hair was hidden behind a hairnet made of black thread. An old apron, identified by a fishy aroma, hung over her neck while she wore her typical jeans and t-shirt underneath. Her thick cheeks were bright pink, in contrast to her pale skin, due to the chilly winter days.
“Ha!” she laughed. “You just don’t get it. How do you think I feel when I come home to find you missing?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled as he lay down on the couch. As he fumbled for the remote, Shane asked, “When is Daddy coming home anyway?”
“Hey! What do you think you’re doin’ anyway. You’re grounded remember,” the woman shrilled. “And as for your father, he should be headin’ back any time now. Now no more talking, go to your room. Next time, think a little more. OK?”
“OK,” Shane replied reluctantly. With that, he flung the remote back on counter and continued to his room. He strolled through the apartment with ease, with the occasional gaze at the trashed parking lot from the side window. It’s been two weeks now, where are you Daddy? Shane thought of his father, dressing in his navy blue attire. He imagined the sleek pilot hat resting on his head and the numerous pins on his chest. He saw his Dad’s goofy smile, telling him that it would be alright. He would say that they would pay off the debt soon and they would live in their old house again. I hope so.
Remembering the coin, Shane withdrew it from his pocket. He assumed the coin to the position in which he caught the coin: the skull facing him. Seeing the strange words once again, he tried to articulate them: “Ma- Maeror Meror,” he stumbled. Unsettled, he tossed the coin onto his dresser and lay on his bed, waiting for the night’s delicate slumber.
***
Shane pried through his door to make a small opening, big enough to eavesdrop onto the conversation. Tears from his mother’s eyes made small puddles on the floor; the other man was trying to calm her. There was a brief intermission in which she asked, “So he is really dead?” Stricken, the man gravely nodded. The river flowed once again.
“Well, there is a bit of good news,” he said, reconciling her. “You and your son can be able to acquire a large sum of money, through my expertise-”
Shane entered the room, with the coin in his hand. His eyes were a deep red and liquid escaped his nose, falling to the floor. Sensing him, the lawyer turned to him. He pierced the boy with his eyes, the same black beady eyes. He arched his hairless eyebrow and a devilish smile was revealed from his pale lips.
“-it should be an open and shut case…”
< Message edited by Oddmanthefirst -- 3/12/2010 23:12:16 >
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