Timmy, with his hands in his pockets and headed for school, whistled as he busily kicked an old tin can along the sidewalk. He was not as athletically inclined as his older brother Tommy, but he was studious and thoughtful and tended to get good grades in all of his classes. Learning seemed to come easily for him. He was generally gregarious and was well-liked by the teachers at the junior high school and by his fellow students as well. Timmy used his whiny voice only when he interacted with his parents because it was still an effective tool with them when he wanted to get his way. Overall, the young man was quite mature and resourceful for his age and was tenacious enough to be able to solve the problems that life threw his way.
Several figures stepped out from behind some bushes, blocking Timmy‘s path. In the lead was Tank, the junior high school bully. Tank wore a perpetual scowl and towered a head taller than Timmy. He was, in fact, the tallest and huskiest eighth-grader at the school. Sarah, a cute red-headed girl followed close behind Tank and trailing behind them both, several members of Tank’s gang backed up the bully.
“Good morning, Tank,” said Timmy nervously. He had been involved in several run-ins with Tank before and none of them had turned out in his favor. He did his best to avoid any contact with him.
“Not for you it ain’t.” growled Tank.
“Be seeing you,” Timmy said quickly and started to skirt around the group but Tank stopped him with a shove.
“Hold it, wimp. You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Done what?”
“You stepped on my shadow.” The gang members guffawed.
“So?”
“So now it’s dirty. So now it’ll have to be cleaned. So that’ll cost money.”
Timmy eyed the shadow doubtfully. “It doesn’t look dirty to me.”
Tank grabbed Timmy by the collar. “It is dirty, you little shrimp.”
“Tank, please leave him alone,” said the red-headed girl. Sarah looked like she didn’t enjoy being with Tank and would prefer to be somewhere else – anywhere else. Tank was all too aware that she really didn’t like him and it hurt him in a way, because deep inside he wanted his relationship with her to be something other than one based on fear and intimidation, but he had no desire to change his behavior and stop being a bully. He got too much out of being the way he was. He also wanted Sarah with him for another reason. Having the pretty red-headed girl at his side was good for his image.
“You mind your own business,” said Tank to the unhappy girl. Tank held out his hand to Timmy. “Hand it over,” he demanded.
“I don’t have any money.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Tank angrily. He grabbed Timmy and to the derisive laughter of the gang picked him up and turned him upside down. As Tank shook Timmy, his lunch money fell from his pocket and was quickly scooped up by the gang.
“No money, huh?” said Tank. “What are those, rocks from your head?”
Tank dropped Timmy and, laughing, walked off with his gang toward the junior high school. The red-headed girl looked back pityingly at Timmy, who was left sprawled on the sidewalk.
___
Tommy pedaled his bicycle quickly along the sidewalk past his father’s used car lot on his way toward Tootville High. He dodged trash cans and other objects as he raced rapidly toward the school. Watson looked unenthusiastic as he sat in the box attached to the front of Tommy’s bike. “You don’t know how lucky you are, Watson,” said Tommy to his dog. “I mean, look. Someone feeds you every day. Someone bathes you. Someone follows you around with a poop scoop. You get a free ride to school. I hope you appreciate the kind of life you lead.”
Tommy swerved suddenly to miss a man stooping to pick up his daily paper from where it lay on the sidewalk. One handlebar of Tommy’s bike caught the man’s toupee and ripped it cleanly off of his head. He stood up yelling as Tommy shot along the sidewalk with the toupee flapping from his handlebar. Watson shrank down lower in the basket and began to whine.
“Take a look at me on the other hand,” Tommy continued, oblivious to the wildly flapping toupee. “Nobody is following me around with a poop scoop. I’ve got to take charge of my own life and make my own breaks. I don’t want to end up selling used cars at my dad’s car lot. I mean, if you’re a dog I guess tires are great to pee on but I can’t see kicking them for the rest of my life. I’d wear out my shoes. And college isn’t so hot, either. That’s four more years of sitting in classrooms pretending to learn stuff. It’s just not for me. I need to find something exciting to do that pays good money. Any suggestions?”
Watson covered his face with his paws. “Come on, Watson. You’re safe with me. Would I let you down?” Tommy and Watson shot off of the sidewalk and onto Main Street directly into the path of a speeding, shiny yellow Corvette. The driver, Stretch, blasted his horn and braked, swerving to miss the panic-stricken pair. Now out of control, Tommy careened wildly across the street and smashed his bike into the curb. The duo somersaulted high into what seemed like the upper stratosphere. Tommy came down and landed headfirst in a trash can full of goose feathers that had been left in the street next to the sidewalk. Watson, with a whine, did a doggy swan dive into a trash can, also filled with goose feathers, next to the one Tommy was occupying. His hind legs and Tommy’s legs protruded from the cans.
Tommy managed to right himself and stand up as the toupee floated down from the stratosphere and came to rest gently on top of the can he was wearing. The dapper trash can now sported an elegant hairpiece with a part in the middle. Tootville’s most senior citizen, Old Lady Magillicuddy, out for a morning stroll and clinging to her cane, wobbled by. Tommy, even though he was stuck face-first in a trash can, still knew how to mind his manners. “Good morning, ma’am,” he said in a muffled voice, goose feathers floating from the inverted trash can and covering the sidewalk around his feet. How he knew it was Old Lady Magillicuddy was anyone’s guess. Old Lady Magillicuddy took one look at the well-groomed, talking trash can, threw down her cane and scurried off down the sidewalk as fast as her rickety old legs could carry her.