Freddie.

Grant Wallace
Creative Writing
09/31/2009

“I want you to get a pint of milk, 2%, not whole milk, understand?”
“Yes, mom.”
“And get the store brand, not Mayfield. Too expensive.”
“Yes, mom.”
“And hurry back, the guests will be here soon. I want to make a good impression for my boss you understand?
“Okay, mom. I got it. “
“Hey boy, watch your tone. Here’s a dollar, and I want the change. Now hurry back.”
But Freddie was already out the door, dollar in hand, holding it up the sky’s light, pretending to legitimize it like he seen the clerks do when he went to the bank with his mom. Walking, Freddie spotted a nearby bluebird perched on a tree’s branch.
“Hey, Mr. Bluebird. Guess what I got!”
“Oh, my. Did your mother give that to you?” replied the bluebird.
“YES, she did. And if I have change leftover, I’m going to get some candy. Some red licorice, jellybeans, chocolate bars, lollipops!”
“Oh my, oh my. Isn’t that nice. Make sure to brush your teeth later okay?”
But Freddie was already skipping down the street, thoughts of laughy taffy and gumdrops gumming up his thoughts. Smiling, Freddie skipped into Sam’s Grocery where Sam greeted him with a respondent smile.
“Hey there Freddie. What can I do you for today?”
“Candy Sam please!”
“Well isn’t that nice. What would you like?”
“I wannnnt, one of those and… one of those. Two of these, and a handful of those? Yeah, I definitely want that.”
“Is that all?”
“YES!”
“The total comes out to… 88 cents.”
But Freddie had already laid the dollar on the counter and ran out, beans and bars in hand scarfing them down as fast as his tiny mouth would let him. Eating and walking, walking and eating, it wasn’t long before the candy ran out and the reality set in. Freddie started to sob realizing his mother was going to beat him for this.
“Why are you crying?” asked the nearby bluebird.
“I… I spent, I spent the money on candy instead of milk like mom asked.”
“Oh my, Freddie. Why did you do that?”
But Freddie was running, running as fast as his little legs could. Just running. Maybe it was the sugar rush but that’s all Freddie could think to do right now. Freddie ran past his house, past the old cemetery, through his school’s parking lot and then around the playground but the tears were still running with him. His math teacher spotted Freddie from inside and ran out to him.
“Freddie, my dear. What’s the matter?”
“I spent the money.. on candy, I was suppose to get milk,” Freddie said, letting the tears pour out onto Mrs. Mooninghams floral blouse.
“My dear boy, you had me so worried. Here, come with me, I’ll drive you back home.”
And Freddie realized then that he had to go with her. There was no way out of this, he would have to accept the consequences like a man. And so he continued to cry, louder now, his nose dripping drips of tears and mucus onto his blue polo. They arrive a few minutes later.
“Trust me Freddie, everything will be fine. Go see your mother and I’ll see you in class on Monday okay?”
But Freddie was already out the car door, running up the stairs, crying like a baby. He was running straight into Beelzebub’s arms but at the time, the only person he knew who would make him feel better was his mom.”
“Mommy!” cried Freddie, throwing his arms into the air, letting her pick him off the ground and holding him tight.
“Freddie, my God, are you okay?” she asked, scared and concerned, rocking him back and forth in her arms.
“I… I…”
“Shhhh, shhh now. Everything’s okay now, understand?”
“Yes, mom.”