Gumball by Realist101 |
Bobby ran, just because he liked to. Just for the pure joy of it. He'd watched 'Forrest Gump' ten times just in the last month, thrilling each time, to the sight of young Forrest flinging off the rigid braces that cramped his legs. "Run, Forrest, run!" Bobby repeated the line over and over every time he took off. And he was the fastest kid on the block too, outrunning even the big kids most of the time.
He felt good and couldn't keep still for long--everyone called him 'Wiggle Worm', or just 'The Worm', which sometimes bothered him, but he never let it get him down. He was just glad his DNA was lively and 'full of beans', as his daddy liked to put it and very seldom did anyone catch Bobby Lindquist dilly-dallying ... come hell or high water, he always found something to get into to, something to do. This thought brought a grin to his face and he jumped up to click his heels, but instead, landed in a heap on Mr. Gravely's lawn. "Dang it." His ire was a burst, so short lived it may not have existed; his brain was hard-wired for happiness. He wandered slowly down Maple Street, clacking the iron fences with a gangly tree limb, with the money his mother had given him for milk and eggs tucked securely in the deepest recesses of his pocket; completely forgotten; as was the task itself. It was his biggest worry, never remembering what he was really supposed to do. But his mind did him proud in school. He was a straight A student in all his classes ... except English. Old lady Stokes class was the absolute bane of his existence. He dreaded it mightily ... and took to feigning illness at every opportunity, praying to Sweet Jesus above, that he never again be required to return, and do time in dreary Room Number 8. Two blocks from home, he had the idea to ride his bike this time. And he ran back to his daddy's garage where the squeaky old Schwinn sat, doggedly waiting to be of service once more. His mind wandered around in another circle, and the trip to the Piggly Wiggly resurfaced; then disappeared in another fog of forgetfulness, way out in Never Never Land. He let the sunshine fuel him and he pedaled the small bike with abandon, this time pretending he was racing in the Little 500 ... a Cutter, so far ahead of the pack they couldn't even see him anymore. He let out a little whoop and disappeared in the wrong direction, heading to the quarry, where the big kids were racing their big kid's toys. And Bobby drooled and gurgled with excitement just thinking about it. The white-hot heat of July prickled skin, and tempers too. Mrs. Long stood, hand on hip, in front of the only grocery store in Henrysburg, just waiting for Bobby to come zig zagging along on his too small bicycle, scaring everyone off the sidewalks. She would catch him today, if it was the last thing she did. "How-do, Mabel. You still waitin' for Bobby?" The shrill voice of Mrs. Pepper rang out above the crunching of gravel as cars tried to maneuver without mayhem in the store's tiny lot. "Sure am. I don't care if he is disabled. His momma should keep him on a leash. I've had just about enough of his shenanigans. I mean it. Do you know, he crushed every single one of my petunias not two days ago? And not a word of apology." She emphasized her anger with a good "humph" and a stern stomp of her heel. ~~~~~~ Dust boiled as the kids raced circles around each other, doing donuts and figure eights in the huge field that tapered down to end as a cliff next to Quantum Quarry. Bobby stood panting and heaving after peddling the five miles from town and he didn't feel the heat or the sting in his legs, he was riding in one of the souped up hotrods; it's motor roaring and bellowing like a mad bull. No one noticed him either. He had a spot that he used all the time to watch as the local BaHa and Nascar wannabes pitted vehicle against vehicle, and this time there was a new car in the group. It was painted dark red and had lettering all over it. Bobby thought it looked like a real race car. Not the ones he was used to seeing in and around town, and it was winning all the match races too. He raised his fists and jumped off his bike, letting it crash on its side. Shouting and hopping up and down, he hollered and screamed in excitement, urging the new kid on. Then, like a little robot winding down, he slowed, and a vague, but important thought tickled his brain. Then, something clicked--he had to go to the store. Digging in his pocket, Bobby found the folded bills he'd been given, and he heard his mother telling him: "Now, remember, honey, straight there and straight back, okay? I'm counting on you, Bobby. You be careful, now." He picked up his dusty bicycle and looked back over his shoulder. For just an instant, Bobby Lindquist was Superman. Faster than a bullet, faster than a speeding train. He imagined himself outrunning the Subaru, the fastest kid in the whole wide world! Smiling, he jumped on the bike and wound around back to town. The sidewalk was his freeway, the parking meters foreign fighters that he had to dodge and as he raced to save the world, a bag of groceries flew out of a monster's hands, it's voice shrieking like a screaming thunderbird; it's red polka dotted wings flapping in confusion. Mrs. Pepper lay in a heap, glasses askew, dress up around her hips, and the groceries she'd spent the last hour picking out for her weekly ladies Yuker game get together, were being carted off by various neighborhood dogs, who by all rights, were simply helping clean up the mess. She was put to silence, and couldn't even say 'thank you' or 'good Heavens', when the kindly Reverend McDonald helped her to her feet. "Are you alright, Mrs. Pepper? Can I give you a lift home?" He helped pick up the scattered food stuffs and watched as the ruffled Mrs. Pepper strode off. And he knew Bobby's folks would get yet another livid phone call. There was just no slowing Bobby down. ~~~~~~ A knock came then, later that afternoon, on the Pepper family's door. Smiling and holding out a freshly picked bouquet of lillies, stood Bobby Lindquist. "I'm, um ... I'm sorry, Mrs. Pepper. I didn't mean to make you fall. Will you please and always, forever and ever, forgive me?" She flushed in the face of someone better, kinder than she, and took the little bunch of flowers, that were already beginning to wilt. "Of course, Bobby. I forgive you and maybe from now on, you could just go a little slower? Huh?" "You got it, Mrs. Pepper! I promise!" And he jumped off the steps, off to the next adventure, off to another world; and he remembered what Forrest Gump's momma had said. "Life's like a box of chocolates ... you just never know what you'll get." And Bobby ran, just because he could.
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