A Gift Yearned to be Returned, a short story

A Gift Yearned to be Returned

The noise of the school bus engine stormed as it drove away from a street it met everyday, Carsons Rd. A young boy's hazel gazed at the big yellow vehicle until he went out of distance. Looking down to his tattered converses, the boy walked down the sidewalk. The sidewalk that was cracked, unkempt and just uglier than the sidewalk the boy admired as he peered out the bus window when one of his peers got dropped off at a nice, suburban looking neighboor hood.

Finally, the boy's small legs reached the porch of his one story house. The place he called home really wasnt. His father died no less than a couple of years ago, on the day he both celebrated his birthday and his own father's death. His father died in a car crash. He took a drive to a near by super market due to his wife's forgetting eggs for their son's eight birthday cake. He never came back, and the boy never received a cake. The boy is ten now, and hasnt eaten a cake in any shape or form since.

"Ronny, hun, are you ready to go?" A middle-aged woman questioned as the boy walked into the house and inside the kitchen.

"Yes, mom." Ronny replied, gleaming.

Ronny adored his mother. She was the only person he knew that never got upset, but encouraging whenever Ronny did anything wrong. If it wasnt for Ronny's mother, he'd definately be one of run away children. A child who'd run away from their problems and their old life, and attempted seeking a new one that held hope and woeless thoughts.

"What do you think your little friend would like?" His mother asked him.

"He's probably already getting all of the things he wants. So lets surprise him, mom." Ronny answered. Ronny's friend and his family was a resident of one of those suburban-looking houses that Ronny admired so.

The pair walked down endless aisles, looking at possible gifts for a newly turned eleven year old. The aisles were bright and colourful. The action figures, card games and toy guns represented joy and delight in Ronny's eyes. There would be nothing better than waking up on Christmas day and seeing Santa's thank you's for being on the Nice List that year; that included such items that were in Ronny and his mother's presence, instead of the usual "merry Christmas" and an evening feast that Ronny received.

"I think he'd like this the best." Ronny picked up a remote-control car. Whom's blue paint job was so clean and plastered that Ronny saw his own sandy brown hair and light, hazel eyes reflecting off of it.

Picking up the car from Ronny his mother answered "Good price. Okay, Ronny, we have a winner."

The sound of roaring cars ached and started Ronny's ears as his mother and he walked down the sidewalk of a busy highway.

"Dont worry, Ronny dear," his mother asured him. "Cars cant hurt you. Only the people inside of them can."

Ronny clinged onto his mother's words like rope hung from a cliff. There was never anything she couldnt make Ronny fearless of. Never.

"Mom, do you think we could ever move into a place like that?" Ronny asked his mother, pointing at a community named Davis Ridge, who's houses were two and three stories tall.

"Of course, Ronny." His mother told him. "It hasnt been easy for us since your father's death, but thats only because he supplied most of the income to our family, dear. I can only make so much money on a high school degree. So when your dad, Henry passed we've been on such a low budgit. Since I'm taking college classes now I could make more money in a couple of years, you see. Then one of those days we could definately live in a nice place like that. Until then Ronny, we have to settle for what Jesus has given us. Which is our house on Carson Rd. It's not much, Ronny, but it's something."

Ronny nodded in agreement. He could not reply, only nod.

The two started walked across a road of an intercept. The coast seemed completely clear. Until a burgendy car started rushing past, swerving and going atleast seventy miles an hour. The car drew closer and closer. Ronny froze in fear. This time his mother couldnt supply him with reasuring words to make him lively and vivid again because she too was paralyzed. Then, in a split second, Ronny's mother pushed Ronny out of the way of the speedy and wreckless car, only for herself to get hit.

Ronny's eyes filled with shock and finally tears. There was no way his mother could've survived such an impact. She was gone, and he knew it.

"Mom..." Ronny muttered, agknowleding he would not receive an answer.

Just like with his father, it was his fault his mother died. Now he will never buy any shape or form of a gift.