“Davey, go pull
everything out of the closet in your room. I want to wash the walls down before
we put your stuff in there.”
Davey groaned.
“But Mom!” She just gave him That Look and pointed upstairs. Davey stomped
toward the stairs. When he hit the first step, his mother said, “Thanks, Davey.
I really appreciate your help. Get the closet cleared out, and you can take a
break and go look around the block for other kids, okay?” Davey refused to look
at her, but he nodded and then continued upstairs.
He didn’t
remember the house, but Cassie said they had come to visit their grandparents when
Davey was two, before Daddy went to Afghanistan. She remembered a Christmas
tree in the living room, and the pass-through window from the kitchen to the
dining room. That was eight years ago. Daddy was gone, and now his parents,
too. He didn’t understand why they had to come live in this stupid big old
house.
There were four
bedrooms on the second floor. Davey and Cassie were in the back two. She shared
a bathroom with Mom, which meant Davey got the second bathroom all to himself.
That was pretty cool, he guessed. He had a big walk-in closet, too. But it was
filled with his grandparents’ junk, like the rest of the house. They were
trying to go through everything. Mom called it organizing. It felt more like
moving stuff from one room to another. But Davey knew better than to argue when
she was slinging That Look.
They’d already
gone through all the clothes, so Davey turned on the closet light and started
pulling things off the shelves that lined the wall opposite the door. None of
it was very interesting to him, as he carried armload after armload out into
his room and spread it on the floor. When he got to the top two shelves, he
pulled in his desk chair to climb up.
Reaching up to
the top shelf, his hand knocked against something hard that scooted away – he
followed it and clasped his fingers around a small box. Tugging it off the
shelf, he carried it down and sat on his bed to open it. An old style cigar
box, with pictures criss-crossed in a collage. Davey lifted the lid and peered
inside. A handful of baseball cards, a few letters, a fishing lure, and a man’s
ring with a tiger eye stone. Davey slid the ring on his finger and picked up
the cards.
Cassie burst
through his bedroom door. “Davey—”
She looked around
in confusion. “Davey? Oh, Mom is going to kill you for sneaking out, you brat!”
She backed out of the room and disappeared down the hall.
Davey pulled off
the ring and stared at it. “Wow. What was that?”
Dogs
in House
|
Houdini, Brindle
|
|
|
Music
|
Santana on youtube.com
|
|
|
Time
writing
|
40 minutes, distracted
|
|
|
May
word count
|
1,047
|
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