Wednesday November 26th, 2014

The exercise:

Write about: the prankster.

This morning I got started on preparing for the craft market on Saturday. Looking forward to not only doing a market that's more geared toward what I'm selling, but also selling my photographs of Osoyoos in Osoyoos for the first time.

Hopefully the bucketful of crap that is the current forecast for this weekend will be wrong.


You could never really relax around Luke. You were always wondering what he was going to pull next, whether you were his intended victim or not. Sure, it sucked when he made you look like a fool in front of half the school. But it was much, much worse when his target believed you were in any way, shape, or form responsible for what happened to him or her.

Especially when Luke decided it was a good idea to start pranking the boys senior football team.

You just never knew what to believe with him. He did tell the truth, on occasion. Just to mix things up, keep us on our toes. But it came out in the exact same tone of voice, with identical facial expressions and gestures, as the lies he told.

I guess that's why nobody thought to help him when he suffered a seizure during chemistry class on Friday morning...


Greg said...

You're sounding cautiously enthusiastic about the craft market, which makes me think that you're probably very excited by it :) I hope it goes well for you! And I'm not sure I see the problem with the weather: cloudy with sunny spells all day Thursday! (And then that lovely weekend where you can get as low as -20; sounds like you'll be out teaching Max to snowboard :-P )
Poor Luke, he sounds like a fun guy to be around and you've practically killed him off in just four short paragraphs. It definitely sounds like he's a convincing chap though; maybe I could take lessons from him....

The prankster
The sound of feet dragging through the late-summer dry grass was audible long before the boys were visible; a couple of six-year-olds trudging along, eyes cast down at the ground. One of them was dragging a stick behind him that was more of a log; the heavy old branch of a tree with soft, splintering bark and a couple of spurs at one end that gouged grooves in the hard, dry earth behind it. The other was clutching a headless teddy-bear and, when he forgot he wasn't supposed to be, was sucking his thumb.
They crested the brow of a hill and paused at the top, looking down into a brown valley that had seen too much sun. There was a glint of water somewhere at the bottom, and the sides of the valley had been terraced into fields that had already been harvested, leaving behind bales of hay and the green-and-brown detritus of leaves and stalks. Scarecrows still stood up here and there, thin stick-men hoping to be brought inside for winter rather than having to brave the chill and wear frost like the beards of old-men.
"You're a stupid," said the boy with the stick. His voice was high and childish and slightly petulant.
"No, you're a stupid," said the boy with the headless teddy-bear. He had the surprisingly deep voice that some children have. He held the teddy-bear out. "Look what you did to Mr. Tiddles."
"It was a good joke," said the first boy. "No-one likes Nana Votter anyway. My mummy said so."
"She ripped his head off."
"Yeah, and she kept it."
"That's why you're a stupid! How can Mr. Tiddles see where he's going now?"
"Yeah, but she'll get a surprise when it blows up, won't she?"
"...won't get Mr. Tiddles's head back..."
Silence fell, and the boy with the stick kicked a stone off the ridge to bounce down to the valley below.
"How'd you make it blow up then?" asked the other boy, curiosity warring with resentment.
"This man gave me some metal," said the first boy. "Said it would just work."
Behind them, unseen, a mushroom cloud of dust and fire rose into the sky.

Marc said...

Greg - if it hadn't been for the wind it would have been fine. Well, mostly fine.

Man, I love that opening paragraph. Does a wonderful job of setting the scene for what follows.

Enjoyed the back and forth between the boys as well. Only a matter of time now before Max is out with his friends, blowing people sky high...