The Balloon
“The Balloon” is a short little
story I wrote for my composition class in my freshman year of high school. The course gave me the basic plot, and it was
my job to fill in the details, spice it up, and add my own style to it. I hope you enjoy.
Betty’s father
held her hand as they entered the park.
It was an absolutely gorgeous day and looking up at the sky, Betty
noticed that there wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. She felt certainly that God must have created
the day just for them, for there couldn’t have been a better day for a stroll
through the park.
Betty
always looked forward to weekends when her father would take her out. It was difficult adjusting to things at home,
and Betty missed the warm evenings they used to spend together as a family. Now that her father no longer lived at the
house, she missed him terribly. She
still didn’t completely understand why things couldn’t be the way they used to
be, but she was learning that she didn’t like change.
As
they entered the park, Betty noticed a man selling balloons. With times being as hard as they were, Betty
figured that he was using this as a means of supporting himself. Lots of people she knew had lost their jobs
and were struggling to find new employment.
Several of her friends from school had moved to live with distant family
members because their families could no longer pay the mortgage on their houses
anymore. Betty was thankful that her
father still had his job and that her mother was able to find work in the local
hospital.
As
Betty and her father neared the small balloon stand, Betty noticed a small boy
standing nearby admiring the brightly colored balloons. He appeared to be about her age, maybe a
little younger, and was thin and small.
Betty noted his shabby appearance; he was poorly dressed and his shoes
looked as though the soles would fall apart at any moment. His hair was tousled and in disarray and his
face was streaked with dirt.
Betty
looked around, but saw no one nearby. He
must be by himself, she concluded. He
looks lonely too, a little like me, I suppose, she thought. Suddenly, she felt a sting of guilt. The boy obviously desired a balloon; that was
evident by the look of longing in his eyes as he stared up at them. And here she, wealthy when compared to most,
was discontent with the changes in life, when this little boy would be thrilled
with even such a simple token as a balloon.
Her
thoughts were interrupted by her father’s voice. “How would you like a balloon, Betty?”
Betty
nodded, a smile on her face. Her father
was always offering to buy her things.
Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he was no longer
living with her mother and her, or maybe it was just the best way he knew how
to show his love. Or perhaps he just
made more money than he needed for himself.
No, her father received a sizable paycheck, considering the difficult
economic times, but he certainly wasn’t a millionaire.
They
walked over to a park bench, where Betty sat down as her father went to
purchase the balloon. Betty noticed the
little boy still lingering by the stand.
He carefully studied Betty’s father as he spoke with the man. Her father turned and waved Betty to come
over. Betty skipped up to her father.
“Which
balloon do you like best, Betty?” her father asked her. Betty scanned the
bundle of balloons. A large bright red
one caught her eye. “I like that one,”
Betty pointed to it. Her father handed
her the balloon, then pulled out his wallet to pay.
As
her father made the purchase, Betty noticed the boy staring at her. Their gaze met, then shifted upward to the
balloon that Betty now held the string to.
Betty felt as though she knew exactly what the boy was thinking. Now she wished that she had thought to bring
along with her the few dollars that she had earned from volunteering at the
hospital. Then perhaps the boy could
have a balloon too.
Her
father’s voice shattered her reverie. “I
could sure go for a cold ice-cream cone on a hot day like today. How about you?” he asked.
Betty
smiled broadly. “So could I,” she agreed
gaily. Her father reached down to take
her hand as they strolled along together side by side. Betty looked up at her bright red balloon
bobbing gently in the breeze. Its color
stood out against the clear blue sky and the contrast caused the balloon to
appear even more brilliantly colored.
Betty smiled happily.
She
happened to glance back over her shoulder and noted that the little boy was
following her, staring wide-eyed at her balloon as it floated freely in the
warm summer breeze.
They
strolled over to the ice-cream cart, and as her father studied the selection,
Betty caught sight of the boy as he halted nearby. He must have felt her gaze resting on him,
for he shifted his stare from the balloon down to his worn-out shoes and he shuffled
his feet uneasily.
Betty
glanced up at her father who was now ordering the ice-cream cones. Then she glanced back at the boy. He had gone back to admiring the balloon. Betty swallowed deeply, then took a step
closer to the boy and held out the string of the balloon towards him. He looked puzzled and a little confused, like
he wasn’t at all quite sure what to do.
“You can have it. It’s for you,”
she nodded. The boy stood a little
uncertain for a moment, then hesitantly reached out and took hold of the
string. He glanced up at the balloon,
then back at Betty. A huge grin
broadened across his face and lit up his whole countenance and, though he
expressed no verbal appreciation, Betty knew he was grateful.
She
smiled warmly back at him in return, then turned her attention back to her
father. He was about to pay the man and
handed Betty her cone so he could reach for his wallet. Betty took hold of her cone and licked
it. The ice-cream cooled her throat as
it went down and the cold of it felt good on the hot day.
As
she licked her ice-cream cone, she turned and saw the boy contentedly strolling
away, happily grasping the balloon string, and she watched until the bright red
balloon had disappeared from sight.
Betty
and her father began to stroll away, when her father noticed that her balloon
was missing. “What happened to your
balloon?” he asked her.
Betty
hesitated. She didn’t want to hurt her
father’s feelings by telling him that she had given it away. She glanced once more over her shoulder, then
up at the blue sky. “It…it went where
all good balloon want to go,” she told him, a bright smile on her face.
Her
father looked over his shoulder and happened to see the red balloon dancing in
the afternoon sunlight as the boy carried it over a little hill in the
park. He turned and smiled down at
Betty. “How about if we get you another
one?”
Betty
smiled back up at him, then slipped her hand in his and leaned her head against
his arm. He held her hand tightly and
together they strolled on, hand in hand.
*“The Balloon” corresponds to the
Heart-chords article Compassion, posted on June 25, 2012. (www.heartchords.blogspot.com)
