Runaway? - Part 1

Hello FFFs,

Guess what? It's cloudy and rainy. Ho hum. At least it only drizzled and sprinkled some yesterday so my dad was able to work. (Roofing can be quite difficult when it's raining or too hot.) I don't know if the rain will continue today or if it'll blow away. It hasn't been really hot, but we turned the AC on yesterday because my mom and I were both feeling really tired. It's probably from the high mold count from all the rain, or the high grass pollen. I wish we could ship this rain over to the states that are not getting good rain. We'd be happy to share. :)

Let's see, what has this week been like?

My sister's birthday and my parents' anniversary was Monday, so my grandparents, aunt, brother and his family all came over to celebrate it. We had Chick-fil-a for lunch and then ice cream pies for dessert. I did get a little bit written Monday evening. I'm trying to do better at getting at least a little writing done almost every day.

Tuesday I wrote some.

Wednesday my 7 nieces and nephews were over all morning. After breakfast my sister and I took them all down to a bike path near us. I had my bike so I rode with the older ones who could go faster while my sister stayed with Buster who is almost 2, and Ti-K who is 4. Of course we had to stop and play in the creek tunnels under the road a little bit. :) That night I helped in the children's class at church so I didn't write.

Thursday. Oh, that was yesterday. I was trying to get things done on my website and I did. I got "Hymns in the Hills" added to the Bookshelf, and added "A Good Summer" to it as well. But I forgot to add "Thank You." I guess that's getting added to my "to-do" list. I wrote last night. It's kind of slow, but at least it's something.

It's so strange not having a novel in the works. I'm just thankful I have ideas for a few short stories. But speaking of short stories, here's the first part of a new short story. I had no inspiration, no ideas that would come, and so I pulled out my file box of calendar pictures. (Yes, I have a file box of them.) I ended up with a Norman Rockwell picture and write a short story about it. It is broken up into 3 parts though. I hope you enjoy!

Runaway?

Part 1

    Jerry trudged down the sidewalk one warm summer day. He had rolled up the bottom of his jeans as much as he could manage, but he was still hot. His feet were tired, and he was thirsty. Over his shoulder, tied up in a red bandana which was firmly knotted to a stick, were all his worldly possessions. Well, all he’d taken with him when he had run away from home that morning. Yes, Jerry was running away. He was never going back, he decided as he marched along. He was going to go live with President Eisenhower in the White House. Then he could have a dog if he wanted one. Jerry was sure there weren’t any kids living there with the president. “I might even be able to have two dogs!”

    The sun climbed higher in the sky, and Jerry’s feet were dragging. He was hungry. The breakfast of puffed rice cereal, toast, one fried egg, and juice he had eaten earlier had disappeared.

    “I should’a made me a sandwich before I ran away,” he muttered, kicking a rock into the street.

    A movement across the street caught his attention, and his eyes widened at the sight of a tall, broad shouldered policeman in a blue uniform.

*

    Officer Rockwell was walking his usual beat. His stomach told him it was time for lunch, and he fully agreed with it. Gil’s place was just across the street. Some days he had to eat elsewhere because his duties kept him away from this street at lunch time, but when he could, Officer Rockwell ate at the little diner.

    Glancing across the street, his brows drew together slightly. A young boy, he couldn’t be more than seven, in jeans and a light yellow shirt was trudging down the sidewalk alone.

    “He’s running away, I’ll bet,” Officer Rockwell thought, taking in the small bundle tied to the stick. “Maybe I can talk some sense into him. I wonder where he’s headed.”

    After waiting for a car to pass, he crossed the street and stopped in front of the boy.

    “Hey there, young fella, what’s your name?”

    “Jerry.” The name was very quiet.

    “Hello, Jerry. I’m Officer Rockwell, but my friends just call me Rock. Where are you headed to this sunny day?”

    The boy hesitated and looked down at his scuffed brown shoes. “To the White House,” he admitted at last.

    Officer Rockwell couldn’t hold back a low whistle. “That’s a good ways from here. Say, are you hungry?”

    Jerry nodded.

    “Have time to eat some lunch with me before you get back on your way? There’s a really good diner up here at the corner.”

    “I only have ten cents,” the boy whispered, his eyes still on the ground.

    “With that you can get a good meal at Gil’s,” Officer Rockwell assured, knowing that his friend would never charge the boy full price, and quite willing to add some to his own bill for the sake of the runaway. “Come on, what do you say we go inside where it’s cooler and get a bite to eat?”

*

    Jerry was torn. He did want to eat lunch, and his feet were already tired of walking, even though the day was far from over, but the policeman might decide to take him home after they ate. True, he hadn’t said anything about him running away or even asked if he had, and Jerry wondered if perhaps he hadn’t thought of it. Maybe he just thought he was traveling.

    “What do you say, Jerry? Doesn’t a sandwich with a thick slice of ham sound good? Or maybe spaghetti? Liver and onions? And what about a piece of pie and some cold lemonade to drink?” The police officer patted his firm stomach. “Gil’s got some tasty food.”

    Just then Jerry’s stomach gave a loud, complaining growl. “Yeah.”

    “Good. I like company when I eat.”

    Together the small boy and the large policeman walked the rest of the way to the corner and into Gil’s diner.

*

    Officer Rockwell led the way across the shiny gray floors to the gleaming chrome bar stools with green tops. He gave a inclination of his head toward his small companion when Gil looked up.

    “Here, have a seat, Jerry. Gil, I’d like you to meet my young friend.” Rockwell seated himself and rested his boots on the footrest. In another minute the boy was seated beside him, having set his bundle on the floor beside his stool.

    Gil came over and leaned on the counter. His clean white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his sleeves were rolled partway up. Thin dark hair was brushed back on his head, and a smile turned up one side of his mouth. “Hi there.”

    “Hi.”

Did you ever say you were running away as a child?

What have you been up to this week?

Do you want to read the next part of this story?