And Your
Point Would Be?
I’m peeking out the top of my home – a
pencil holder. Thank goodness I’ve been
sharpened only a few times so I can still peer over the top, unlike some of the
stubbies in here. They’re completely in
the dark.
I
can see Marlene and Artie. They’re
playing with Artie’s tricycle and laughing.
It looks like fun – this is good.
She’s
five years older than he is. It’s 1951
so he’s three and she’s eight – old enough to know a bit more than smarty Artie
… one would hope.
I’m
not brand new, you know. When I was new,
boy-oh-boy, did I feel spiffy. There’s
thousands, no millions, out there who look just like me but I’ve always felt
special, as though a part of me would last for a very long time.
Some
would say I’m standard issue – yellow, HP, with a gold ring running around my
red rubbery head. My head is an eraser
and it’s used to rub out errors made by stupid human mistakes. They do that a lot and when they do, it hurts
like hell!
How
would you like to be turned upside-down and rubbed into the ground until the
tracks you’ve made have disappeared? Do
you know what a noogie feels like? Well,
imagine that feeling multiplied a hundred times and you’ll know what life as a
pencil can be … VERY PAINFUL!
Wait
just a minute, here comes Artie. Damn,
this boy’s a chewer. I’m shrinking … I’m
scrunching … down … down … down. Please
let him pick that hot looking red number four.
He’s
coming closer … closer … he’s twirling us one by one – damn – he’s saying,
“This one is good!” Now he’s got
me. He’s being way too rough on me.
“Watch
it buster!” I yell, “Can’t you see I’ve been freshly sharpened. Mind my point!”
Whew!
I made it out, point intact.
Oh,
no! I’m looking at Artie’s tonsils. This can’t be good.
Bite!
“Ow-w!”
Chomp!
“Ow-w-w-w!”
Chew!
“Ow-w-w-w-w-w!”
CRUNCH!
“OW-W-W-W-W-W-CH!”
His
mother has told him time and time again NOT to walk or run with anything in his
mouth. She likes to accompany that
command with, “You know the actor Andy Devine?
He plays Jingles on Wild Bill Hickok’s Show. Well, the reason he has that raspy voice is
because he ran with a sucker in his mouth as a kid and choked on the stick when
he fell”.
But,
I digress – I’m getting really scared.
He may have taken me out of his mouth but he’s getting a little too
close to the wheel Marlene is spinning.
They’ve turned the trike over in order to crank the wheel.
I’m
getting closer … and closer … yikes, too close to that spinning wheel … so
close I can feel the breeze … I can hear a squeak that needs oil … I … I … I …
eye … yi … YI!
Click
… click … click … click … click … click … click … click … click … click … click
… click … click …
What
could be worse than this? I’m being used
as a noise maker. “Hey, you two! Don’t you know the hockey card and clothes
pin trick?” I guess not! I don’t know how much more I can take of
this.
Marlene’s
whining. What is it? I can barely hear it over the click … click …
click … click … click … click … “Awe
come on Artie, it’s my turn.”
Finally! The spinning stops, Marlene takes me in her
left hand and like Artie touches me to a spoke.
The little brother yells out, “I’ll spin the wheel!” and here we go
again!
Rat a
tat tat …
rat a tat
tat … rat
a tat tat
…
faster!
Rat a
tat tat … rat a
tat tat … rat a
tat tat …
Faster!
Rat
a tat tat … rat a tat tat … rat a tat tat …
FASTER!
Ratatattat…ratatattat…ratatattat
…
BANG! STOP!
JAB! OUCH!
That
little Artie, he put the brakes on! I
feel my point break off. Marlene is
screaming and clutching her hand.
Nana
Brigden, who is babysitting, takes a look to find my broken lead imbedded in
Marlene’s palm.
“No
blood”, the Nana says, “it can’t be too serious.” The screaming stops. But where am I? It’s very dark and dusty. Once I’ve adjusted to the lack of light I see
I’m in the company of seventeen dust bunnies, eight coins, four candy wrappers,
a half eaten grape lollipop and a broken orange crayon. I sure hope it’s not the crayon Marlene
shoved up her nose a few years back … YUCK!!!
I
must have rolled under the chesterfield when she dropped me and started
squealing like a stuck pig.
Well,
that’s about all I have to say about that particular incident except I think it
interesting that Marlene has been so drawn to writing. I like to think I had something to do with
that. You see, she still carries a piece
of me in her left hand.
And,
that’s MY point!
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