The frightened little boy stopped suddenly. He had been running down the cracked sidewalk for two blocks chasing his red rubber ball when it rolled into the street. It was a cold and windy day. Although he was barely five, he knew that he was not allowed to cross the street without his mother. But she was busy inside their house caring for his baby sister. As he stood there trying to decide whether or not to run out into the street to get his ball, a tall man approached him. The man was at least six-foot three with broad shoulders and light brown hair. He was wearing a navy blue wind suit, and had on black rimmed glasses that stood out against his pale white face. The stranger looked down at the little boy and asked him his name.
“Timmy” said the boy.
“Is that your ball?” asked the man, pointing to the rubber ball that was now in the middle of the narrow street.
Just as the man was about to step off the curb to get the ball, a garbage truck went roaring by. The man waited until the truck passed, the smell of garbage lingering in the air, but the ball was gone. Timmy stood there unsure of what to do.
Then he saw it. It was about ten feet further down the street than it was before, flat like a big red pancake. He wanted to cry but held back his tears in front of the strange man. He stood there for a moment and then turned around and ran as fast as he could all the way home.
When Timmy reached his yard, he turned around and saw the stranger still standing on the corner. Timmy wondered why he was still there. Then he quickly ran up the four steps leading to his porch and went inside his house.
“Timmy, is that you?” yelled his mother from the baby’s room.
“Yes, momma, it’s me”, he yelled back.
to be continued…