by Robert Braswell

Created on: July 01, 2007

The Package

This is a story about a boy's excitement, disappointment and understanding over a package that was delivered to his house one day.

It was during summer and he was about to leave for work when he approached me to say, "Theirs a package coming to the house today and it's for you. Don't you dare open it until I get home from work." His look of 'or else' convinced me that I better do as he said. Then he left for the day.

I grew a little suspicious of his words only because I couldn't think of any good reason why he would buy me something since it wasn't my birthday or a holiday. Money was a scarce commodity in our home so spending it without good reason seemed illogical to me. But, I was still thrilled to think that I was getting something for no reason.

When a large cardboard box was delivered around 8:30 that morning, it sat mysteriously on the front porch the rest of the day. My imagination immediately shifted into overdrive of what could be inside. The more I would look at it, the more I tried to figure out what it was.

The box was five foot long and nearly three feet tall. I finally figured out a plan to determine more precisely what could be inside. So, after many minutes of pressing my hands over the cardboard of the entire box to try and feel anything of substance underneath, I concluded that it was an object that had wheels since I was able to feel circular shapes at the bottom in each corner. Only one thing came to my mind, and if I thought correctly, then I would soon be the envy of every kid in the neighborhood.

But then my excitement soon swayed when I realized the amount of money that would have been needed for such an item. It would have required too much of it to be spent on something so frivolous to my father but important to me. None-the-less, I remained hopeful.

My thoughts were centering on a gas-powered go-cart. I was so sure that's what it was that I was even allowing myself to think I already owned it. I had it so stunning in appearance that people in the neighborhood could only ooh and ah as I would race by them.

After an emotionally exhausting day of waiting for his return, I finally spotted my father's car coming around the corner at the end of our street. He seemed to be taking his sweet time in getting to the house.

My excitement began to come to a crescendo in hearing the engine shut off, the car door open and slam shut, hearing his footsteps upon the gravel as the hard rubber souls of his work shoes compressed the stones beneath

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