Short story for Creative Writing Class at Bartlett Senior Center, Bartlett, TN
Jimmy Patterson, Rocky
Barnett, and Taylor Watson sat silently on the porch of the Patterson
Market. Jimmy’s dad was always good
about letting them help out with sweeping and stocking the shelves to earn
extra money but today all was silent.
Mr. Patterson had sold the market and had bought a bigger grocery store forty
miles away. They would be moving in two
weeks. This was the boys last summer
together as the ‘three musketeers.’
Jimmy’s dad was inside
talking to the new owner, Mr. Pierce. He
had told the boys to find something else to do because he was signing the
papers and turning over the keys today.
The screen door squeaked
open and Ben, the delivery boy, exited with his arms full of groceries. Ben was sixteen and a good driver so Mr.
Patterson let him use the delivery wagon.
Sometimes he would let the boys ride with him. But not today. Today everyone was walking in a daze. Sadness hung heavy over them all. Ben didn’t say a word as he passed the three
boys and got into the truck. He drove
off slowly as if that would delay the inevitable.
“Look at that big fancy
convertible,” Rocky commented moments later, as he stared at Mr. Pierce’s
car. “He must be rich. And I bet he ups the price on all the candy
and toys, too. That’s why he’s so rich!”
“Nah, I don’t think so,”
Taylor said, “do you, Jimmy? Do ya think
he’ll up the prices on us?”
“I don’t know. Let’s quit talkin’ ’bout it, OK? Let’s just go fishin’.”
They all stood and walked
behind the market to retrieve their fishing gear. Jimmy popped his head in the back door and
told his dad where they were going. They
slowly walked the gravel road dragging their feet and kicking rocks here and
there as they headed for Everson’s Creek.
A half a mile later they
were sitting on the bank with their lines in the water. A big oak tree shaded them from the
sweltering heat of the August sun. Any
other time they would be taking a cool dip in their skivvies. But not today. Today they were numb.
“You reckon we’ll ever
see each other again?” Rocky asked.
“Forty miles ain’t that
far. Is it, Jimmy?” Taylor added.
“I don’t know. I don’t think we could walk it.”
“Maybe we could ride our
bikes and meet up half way.” Rocky said
hopefully.
“Let’s face it,” Jimmy
blurted out, “it ain’t gonna happen. My
dad’ll have no reason to ever come back here again.”
“I guess we kin write
each other, cain’t we?” Rocky asked. “It
don’t cost much to write a letter.”
“No, but its not like
seein’ each other, or goin’ fishin’, or going swimmin’. It won’t never be the same again.”
The three friends lay
back quietly against the dry ground. No
one said a word; no one got a nibble.
After a few more minutes Jimmy sat up and reeled in his line.
“Come on, let’s go,” he
said. “I’m tired a thinking so much.
Soon they were in sight
of the market but something was out of place.
Something was not as expected.
Something was as it should have been.
Mr. Pierce’s convertible was gone and Mr. Patterson’s pickup truck was
still parked out front. The boys took
off running and practically tore the screen door off its hinges as they entered
the store.
“Dad, dad,” Jimmy
yelled. “How come you’re still
here? Shouldn’t you be at home by now?”
Mr. Patterson came out
from behind the counter and put his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. “No, son,” he grinned, “I’ve decided not to
sell. Patterson’s Market is still going
to be Patterson’s Market. With a little
help from a store manager, I can probably run both markets right from here. Is that okay with you?”
Jimmy didn’t have to answer. His dad saw happiness written all over him as
he hugged his thick waist. The three
boys grabbed arms and jumped up and down as they turned in a circle.
“Let’s go fishin’, guys,”
Jimmy yelled, and they headed back down the dusty road to the creek. This time jumping and hollering and laughing
all the way.
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