On Sunday, I spent way too much on a speaker ipod thingy for
the kitchen. During dinner, I tested
Elijah and Luca’s ear pain threshold while they banged their heads as they call
it, “concert style.”
Suddenly, the phone rang.
The caller ID was Eli’s teacher.
Of course, I panicked.
“Hi Mrs. P___. We
weren’t just listening to loud metal.”
“Oh. Okay…well. I’m calling to ask for your help. Elijah borrowed (name withheld)’s homemade
book last week and hasn’t returned it.
It’s a book (name withheld) wrote about his favorite rock bands and it’s
very special to him. He would be
devastated if Eli lost it. Can you help
him find the book and return it tomorrow?”
“I promise you on my honor I will return the book or die
trying.”
Mrs. P___ hung up as soon as she could and I turned on Eli
like a jackal.
“Hey man. That was
Mrs. P____. We have to find that rock
book you stole. Where is it? Where did you last see it? I, I mean we, have to find that book pronto
or you are in big trouble.”
Eli merely shrugged and said, “I couldn’t find it.”
“No. That is not good
enough. You better go look. Again.”
I tossed all the stuff out of his book bag and removed all
the books from his bookshelf. I yanked
all the sheets off his bed. No rock
book.
Eli didn’t seem to have as much anxiety about it. Or any anxiety about it. Luckily, I had enough for both of us.
I lied to him and said Mrs. P___ told me Elijah would no
longer be able to borrow any books from school if we couldn’t find (name
withheld)’s book. This didn’t seem to
bother Eli either.
Next thing I knew, I was digging through our garbage
bins. I ripped open a bag of recycling
and rifled through its contents:
Bill. Bill. Bill.
Drawing from Luca. Pizza
box. Drawing from Luca. Bill.
Everything an identity thief needs to become Rick Hamann. Bill.
And there it was. A
little stapled white stack of paper with orange and blue crayon scribbles. The cover read, “Rokc Badns.”
I ran inside waving it enthusiastically. I found it!
I found it! Eli looked up from
whatever he was doing, completely casually.
“Oh. Good. You found
it.”
I went on a mini tirade about being nice to other people’s
property and in the future he’d have to be much more careful.
He said, “I bet you threw it away in the first place,
thinking it was garbage.”
He was probably right.
1 comment:
I like this one. Particularly the image of you feverishly rummaging through the trash.
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