As cars, filled with curious
onlookers, began lining the road leading to the ranch, Lester and I went
upstairs for a brief moment of quiet reflection, followed by a lengthy bout of hysterical
sobbing. The fact that we had already
outdrawn the carnival was of little solace.
In a bedroom, overlooking the
blazing barn fire, we considered our future, or what was left of our
future. It was very possible that we had
only a few hours left to live. In case
our parents spared our lives, we calculated how long we would be in prison,
with time off for good behavior---not starting anymore fires. We figured we might be allowed to see each
other by the time we were in our late sixties.
For certain, we would go down in infamy as the two young boys
responsible for the Great Happy Valley Barn Fire. Historians could not blame this one on a
cow. The cows rejoiced, while Lester and
I waited to see if we had a future beyond the fourth grade.
No comments:
Post a Comment