“The bad boy: Always more fun.”
Today’s story is contributed by Chris Haydel.
“Stay away from that Johnny, he’s trouble,” Mom warned.
He’s a troublemaker, a bad seed. As a nurse, Mom had observed the sometimes tragic result of hanging out with “dangerous” kids.It was a hot summer day in New Orleans, but to me, it had never felt cooler. I had saved up for a month, and today was the big day. The shiny long barrel. The plastic “ivory” grip. Multi-cap loading capacity. A magnificent weapon. A young boy’s dream. I had seen it in the toy aisle of a store not too far away.
Mom had gone out to run errands, but she promised to take me as soon as she got back. I was playing outside to kill time.
Johnny was outside too, but he was killing bugs with his magnifying glass. “Hey, watcha doin’?” He yelled from across the street.
“Nothing,” I mumbled, bowing my head, heeding Mom’s warning. READ MORE