Our story this week is called “The Pipe”. It was written byCatherine W, here is Shep O'Neal with the story.
Mr. Dow’s store was widely known throughout the neighborhood. It soldmany different things. Both old and young came here to shop forspecial items. They could find kitchens, large and small wallets tohold coins and paper money, packs of playing cards, pins and sewingneedles, cigarettes and pipes, and a great many other items. They werenicely placed on the shelves.
Every day after school, little Joy came to the store to look around.
He loved to look at the pipes. One pipe especially caught his eye. Hekept staring at it every time he came back to the store. He could nottake his eyes off it. He imagined that some day he would be a grownman and could smoke a pipe, just like this one.
He did not remember his father, but he knew his Dad smoke a pipe. Joyreached out and touched the pipe. He ran a finger along its stem. Hekept thinking that when he was old enough, he would go to work and hismother could stay home. He would not have to wait three hours afterschool until she came home from her job. He would leave his job and gostraight home. His mother would be there, and supper would be readywaiting for him. After supper they would talk, he would sit back andsmoke his pipe as his father did. It was a warm picture of the two ofthem made their life together. It was an exciting dream. Oh, why, hewondered, did it take so long to grow up and take his father’s place?
He looked around the store. Nobody was looking. He put the bowl of thepipe in his hand. He just wanted to get the feel of it, nothing more.
He looked at it with intense pleasure. He was lost in his dream,wishing he could be like his father, a father he tried hard toremember.
Suddenly he was shocked out of his dream. He heard footsteps behindhim. He was frightened, he turned around quickly; it was Mr. Dow, thefriendly storeowner. Joy was unable to move. “Hello, Joy.” Mr. Dowsaid and kept on working. Joy struggled to answer but could not gethis voice up. He swallowed and smiled weakly as Mr. Dow walked away.
Joy’s thoughts became unclear. Did Mr. Dow see the pipe in his hand?
Was he suspicious? Suddenly the store seemed extremely warm. Joywatched his feet begin to move and take him out of the store. What hewas doing was not clear to him. He felt the cool air outside and itwas good, yet he felt an emptiness inside himself. Like one walking inhis sleep, he moved toward the playground. He looked around and sawthe empty swings; he slipped into one and leaned against its chain.
The cold metal links hurt his side.
Sitting on the swing, he gave the ground a push with one foot. A sharppain caught him in the stomach. He almost cried but he stoppedhimself. He knew it was the pipe he felt. He had walked out of thestore with it. A feeling of terror now raised through him. He hadbetrayed his mother. He had not obeyed one of God’s commandments. Hadhe been seen? He had stolen, but he had not really meant to steal. Itall happened so quickly. He had wanted only to grow up. But now he didnot feel grown-up at all. The swing slowed. He did not want to swing,but he continued to sit there because he had no other place to go.
Joy shook in the cold of the evening air. He reached into his pocketand pulled out the pipe. He held the bowl of the pipe in his hand andstared at it. He could not get his thoughts straight. Nothing seemedright. Everything was wrong. He looked carefully around theplayground. No one could be seen. Joy looked down at his dirty brownshoes and wondered if Mr. Dow had called the police. They would comelooking for him. Where were they? He raised his head high enough tosee between the trees to the street. No police car was in sight.
Perhaps the police were waiting for him at home. Maybe a police carwas parked in front of his house. All thoughts of thoughts raisedthrough his head. He could say he did not take the pipe. No one hadseen him do it. No one would ever know that he had stolen it. Still hehimself would know that he did and God would know.
Joy swung high in the air and gleamed back. He wondered if God everforgot about little boys’ taking things, especially when they had notmeant to do so. Joy at last stopped the swing’s movement. Usually heliked to swing high in the air, higher than anybody else in the world.
But now he did not want to swing at all. He felt sick, his head achedand his sweater seemed too tight. He was sure he even lookeddifferent.
Joy looked at the ground and tried hard to clear his thoughts. Hecould hide the pipe. He could throw it away. He could send Mr. Dow themoney for it. His thoughts wound around in the same circle again andagain. He felt sick all over.
The sun was sleeping down through the trees and it was time to gohome. Time was running out, his mother would look at him and she wouldknow. She always knew. A hot tear ran down his cheek. She trusted him,this was the first year she had left him alone for three hours betweenschool and the time she got home from work. She had to work. He knewthat. She had to work to buy his clothes and to pay for their food andfor a place to live. He remembered the nice way she said, “You are alittle man now, Joy.” It made him sad when his mother’s words cameback to him, she trusted him.
Remembering this, he felt as if someone had stuck a sharp stick intohis side. Her trust in him was all what he could think about now. Itdrove everything else from his mind. She trusted me, he kept saying tohimself. She trusted me; this was most important. Next to this, thepipe and its magic power meant nothing. His dreams of growing up meantnothing.
Joy looked at the long shadows coming toward him. He now knew what hehad to do. And he was in a hurry to get it done. He jumped out of theswing and started running. When he took the pipe, he left the storewith slow unsure steps. Now his feet were quick, decisive, taking himstraight back to the store like an arrow. He ran along the sidewalk,pulling in the cold air through his open mouth. He was out of breathwhen he reached the store.
Mr. Dow was just inside the door, the big man smiled. Joy wished hehad not. Somehow bad friendly smile made it more difficult for Joy todo what he wanted to do. Joy was lost for a moment. His feet feltheavy. Suddenly, blindingly, he held out the pipe. His voice struggledto come out from deep inside a painful chest.
“Mr. Dow,” he said at last, “I didn’t mean to take it.”
“Thanks, Joy.” Mr. Dow said as he gently took the pipe from the boy’s outstretched hand. “How about staying around and helping me closeup shop.”
Joy felt Mr. Dow’s big hand on his shoulder. And Joy felt hisshoulders had become a little broader and stronger. |