On the edge of town, ten year old Tyler walked down a heavily dusty path of red dirt, carrying something in his hand. Adults usually didn't travel the path, because it was too dusty and because all the town kids loved it. Adults didn’t like walking past the crude commenting goth kids. They knew, too, that if their own kids were hanging out on the path, they would most likely ignore their parents, instead of greeting them. Parents knew they should just call their children on their cell phones, when they wanted them to come home. That was, after all, why God made cell phones.

The bright sun, beating down, was wickedly hot, as Tyler made his way to the downward turn of the path. Sweat poured down his face, arms, and bare legs. His blond hair curled at the edges, with little droplets of sweat. The moisture dropped into the dust, creating minute puffs in unison with the dust clouds from his feet. Cupping his hands together, he increased his speed, and jogged down the hill. He came to the big rocks and shade trees where the kids liked to stand or sit.

All of a sudden, Tyler stopped. He stepped out of his dusty lace-less sneakers, sat down in the soft red dirt, and started crying.

"I killed 'em," he bawled.

He sat there crying for several minutes, rocking back and forth. His tears irritated his eyes, and with fists, he rubbed them until they hurt.

Brad walked down the thick dusty path, kicking dirt to watch the dust puffs fall to the ground in different patterns. His white sneakers quickly turned red. He was glad he remembered to wear his khaki shorts, instead of the jeans he had picked out that morning. His white t-shirt had already picked up dust particles, and the intense heat was causing wet sweaty underarms, and neckline.

Coming down the hill, and approaching the trees and rocks, Brad wasn’t surprised that the goth kids weren’t there. It was probably too hot for them, what with their black clothing, black makeup, and black hair. They would probably bake during the hot summer day. There was a fair in town, and most of the other kids would probably be there. He figured he would be the only kid on the path. He was glad because he was going to dig for buried treasure, behind the big rocks. He was surprised when he saw the strange boy sitting there crying.

As he approached Tyler, he heard him cry, “I killed ‘em.”

Brad stopped in his tracks. He tried to make himself invisible. He could see Tyler had blood all over his face and shirt.

With soft footsteps, Brad turned around and started back the way he had come. When he figured the other kid couldn't catch up with him, he broke into a run, his feet equipped with wings of fear. As he raced to town, he looked for a policeman. Having a history of kleptomania, he knew where the police usually parked.

He wasn’t a bad boy, he just picked up things, and they stayed with him. The new neighbors, Betty and Carl Brison, found that out the hard way. When they first moved in, they tied their cute beagle outside, and Brad walked by. He stopped to play with the beagle. Somehow, the lead untied, and as he left, the beagle trotted in front of him.

The Brisons called the police. The police knew right away who had taken the dog. They found them quickly, and took them back. Brad apologized, and the Brisons forgave him. With therapy, Brad was doing better.

Even so, before he made it to the path, he walked by Wren’s outdoor cafe, and stopped at a table that had a pair of teacups and saucers on it. He picked up a cup and admired the fancy pink and purple flower pattern. When he started to walk away, it was still hanging from his finger. It was a good thing Darla Wren saw him, before he had gone too far. She called him back and asked for the cup. Looking at his hand, he was surprised it was there.

Brad looked over to the park abutting the path, and saw a parked police cruiser. He ran over, “Officer Lens, Officer Lens, I need to tell you something.”

Officer Lens looked up from the crossword puzzle he was working. Lifting his sunglasses, he smiled. “Hey Brad. What’s going on? I haven’t had to run you down, lately. Therapy must be working.”

“Yeah, it’s working some, but not all the way. I’m going to be going for a while.” In an excited voice, Brad added, “Officer, there’s a kid down the path that killed some people. He’s sitting there, rocking himself, and saying, “I killed ‘em.” I think you need to come and see.”

“Sure, Brad, let me call for backup.”

Soon, another cruiser pulled up. Out jumped Officer Sandy Duthers. Her curly blond hair bounced, and her brown uniform looked fresh and wrinkle free, but she had donut sprinkles on her chin. “Hey Brad, what’s up? Hi, Greg. Is Brad going with us?”

“Yeah, I need him to show us where the kid is.”

The three walked down the path, dust kicking up in puffs which settled on legs, and pant cuffs, as they walked along. At the bottom of the hill, they saw the boy sitting on the edge of the path. He was still rocking and crying. His faint, “I killed ‘em,” could be heard as they moved closer.

Apprehensively, the tall dark-haired Officer Lens walked over to the kid. “I need you to get up and come with us.” He picked up Tyler’s shoes. “Put these on, please.”

Tyler rubbed his eyes as he watched the dust that had been under the shoes. He saw movement. He lunged down and pulled up a toad. “Em! I didn’t kill you after all!“ His wide grin showed ultimate happiness, as he kissed his pet toad. He looked up at Officer Tyler, and they all could see that his face was smeared with the red dust and his tears, creating blood-like patterns. His red t-shirt and green shorts were covered in sweat, dust, and tears, too.

Asked Officer Duthers, “so, all this time, you were worried you killed your toad?”

Tyler sighed. “I dropped her and accidentally stepped on her. I just knew I killed her.”

Officer Lens asked, “don’t you have something you could put Em in, so you wouldn’t drop her?”

“Well, sure, I have this!”

Tyler pulled out a gallon ziplock bag from his shorts pocket. “I guess I could dump these sunflower seeds out, and put her in here.”

“NO!” yelled Officer Lens, Officer Duthers, and Brad, together, as one voice.

Labels: fiction