Someone’s trust can take years to gain, but only seconds to lose. Revving the motor of my best friend’s dirt bike always gave me a thrill. Yet, nothing could compare to the feeling of zooming down the back roads by my beach house on a warm, summer day. As I switched gears from first to second, I glanced at an old woman giving me a cryptic stare. I saw her shake her head as if to say this was not safe, which only enticed me to go faster. I shifted to third gear and sped past her garden. I did not care about her opinion, for at that moment, going thirty miles per hour, I was the king of the world. The warm wind whipped through my hair while my shirttail flapped furiously in the breeze. Little toddlers venturing to the beach gazed at me in awe. Nothing could bring me down on that day . . . except for a small strip of gravel on the side of the road. My head was up in the clouds so I failed to notice the sliver of sand and pebbles ahead. I plummeted down quickly from Cloud Nine, however, when I flew through the dusty air and onto the hard pavement. I heard my friend stop his bike short, dismount, and rush towards me. Wanting to look cool in front of my fourteen- year-old friend, I stood up, brushed myself off, and forced a smile. He gasped as he pointed toward my arm. Suddenly I felt a flash of pain travel up my arm. I stared in disbelief at the blood dripping onto the bike from the dirty gash in my left arm. Gravel was jammed under the flesh of my palm, and my hip and legs were badly scraped. Holding in my tears of agony, I slowly drove back to my house and said I’d call him after I got cleaned up. After he drove around the corner, I sprinted through the front door and screamed for my mom. At that moment I was the king of the world To be honest, I had never told her that I was riding this motorized vehicle. So, when she questioned me, I simply told her I had fallen off my bike. She took me down to the ocean and carefully washed off my scrapes and cleaned the gravel out of my hand. The salt stung my open wounds. When she had finished, I limped over to my friend’s house. I was feeling terrible, not just because of my injuries, but because I felt guilty. My mother had recited over and over how dangerous dirt bikes were and that I was never to ride them. The thrill of the ride clouded my judgment, and I did not heed her warnings. Later that evening, we all went out to dinner. My sister had been with my dad in town during the day and was unaware of my injuries. So, when I was scooping up my lobster ravioli she noticed the cuts on my arm. She questioned me about the cuts and my mom replied that I fell off my bike. She misunderstood and thought my mom had said dirt bike so she blurted, “You fell off the dirt bike! Aha! Jesse said that thing was extremely safe!” My dad chimed in with, “How did you fall? You looked like you were great at riding it when I saw you!” My mom glared at me. Watching my mom’s face, realizing that she had been misled, was sheer agony. Her words, “I see you conveniently neglected to tell me the whole story,” felt like daggers in my heart. Suddenly, as I looked at her face, I realized that trust was a very fragile thing. Her eyes clearly told me that I had lost her trust. I always knew she would forgive me, but I still regret hurting her because of my need for speed. Michael Scognamiglio, 13 Saddle River, New Jersey Zachary Meyer, 10Shelby Township, Michigan
Morality
The Delivery Boy
A furious gust of wind howled down the moonlit lane, sending a cascade of freshly fallen snowflakes tumbling from the treetops, up and over the rooftops, whirling around the lampposts, before finally slamming into the row of houses that lined either side of the street. The houses strained against the frigid blast, creaking and groaning, all the while steadfastly shielding the inhabitants lying dormant inside. The wind struggled for a moment, moaning with the sheer force of which it pushed against the walls of the houses, and then whistled away to continue on towards wherever its path lay. As the continuous drone of the wind slowly died away, the houses gave one final creak and shudder before relaxing back to their normal positions. In the muffled cover of heavy snow, all was silent once more. It was this creak that awoke Tom on that cold, dark, winter’s morning. With a start, he turned his head towards the alarm clock that sat upon his bedside table. Three numbers winked in the darkness on the face of the digital clock: 6:34. For a second, Tom just stared. Then, with a sigh, he sank back into his pillow and turned the other way towards the bedroom window. The shades had been pulled back the night before, and the soft clear moonlight filtering in through the glass stood in stark contrast to the harsh, cold world that lay outside. The soft blanket of snow that had fallen outside earlier that night had been frozen into a single untouched sheet of ice that sparkled and glittered in the starlight. The long, glistening icicles that dangled from the top of the window lay testimony to the frigid temperatures outside. There was no way he’d be going outside to deliver newspapers today Even more telling of the conditions outside was the fact that there wasn’t a single newspaper boy outside delivering papers. Tom shut his eyes firmly and burrowed down under the warm covers of his bed. There was no way he’d be going outside to deliver newspapers today. For one thing, it was just completely frozen out there and Tom didn’t fancy becoming a human popsicle. Besides, he was already late anyway. Mr. Beason, the newspaper delivery manager, wanted them “on the spot, six o’clock, at the dot.” It was a bit too late for that. Tom imagined walking into the office more than a half hour later and announcing to him, “Here I am!” He scoffed. Chances were that the office would be completely abandoned and Mr. Beason himself was probably snug under the covers of his bed himself anyway. However, Tom couldn’t quite help thinking about walking into the newspaper office on that first day and asking for the job. Pocket money was always a bit tight around the house, and when he had seen the ad in the newspaper, he had jumped at the chance. His interview with Mr. Beason had been short, but he could never quite forget it. After a few niceties and introductions, Mr. Beason had fixed Tom with an unblinking stare and said, “I want to tell you straight off the bat. We’re looking for hard workers only here. The mornings delivering these papers won’t always be easy, and they won’t always be fun. But if you want to be a part of our team, you have to do your job no matter what.” He had mumbled something like, “I won’t quit on you. I’m a hard worker.” It was then that Mr. Beason smiled and clapped his shoulder. “I know that, son. I can see that you’re a hard worker. Have a good sleep tonight. You start tomorrow at six.” Tom saw Mr. Beason’s face smile through his closed eyes. He could hear his voice saying, “I won’t quit on you.” And then Mr. Beason clapping his shoulder and telling him, “I can see that you’re a hard worker.” The words seem to echo in his ears. Tom opened his eyes and looked up at the dark ceiling of his bedroom. Remember what Mr. Beason said about you, a voice told him. But Mr. Beason was wrong. He wasn’t a hard worker. Besides, Mr. Beason probably said the same thing to every kid who applied for the job. You said you wouldn’t quit on him. So perhaps he had been lying to Mr. Beason when he had said he was a hard worker. On the other hand, who cared what Mr. Beason thought? So what if he had lied? It was ultimately Mr. Beason who made the decision to give him the job. But in his heart, Tom already knew. You weren’t just lying to Mr. Beason, you were lying to yourself. Groaning, Tom turned away from the ceiling and tried to bury his face in the pillow. “Go to sleep,” he told himself. “Go to sleep. Mr. Beason doesn’t care. I don’t care.” However, sleep wouldn’t come and the voice in his head was inescapable. But you do care. And so do the others. It hit him then. The people he delivered the newspapers to! Would they be so disappointed not to get them that day? In his head, he saw Fido, the Kentleys’ dog, leap onto him in joy at the sight of the rolled up bundle of newspaper. He saw the two Swanson twins running to meet him at the door when they saw him walking up towards their house. He saw old Mrs. Johnson, who always had a treat or two for him when he delivered her newspaper. Would they be so disappointed to not get their newspapers that day? Tom shook his head, wearily trying to shake off this crazy, this insane idea. He couldn’t deliver the newspapers today. Just by glancing out the window, it must have been at least minus-forty degrees outside. For heaven’s sake, he thought, Icicles are hanging on my bedroom window. The streets are frozen and slippery. Delivering newspapers now is just completely stupid. That’s why none
Filling the Jar
“Hello, son,” he said, “I’m glad that I have found you. Did you find a job?” Matt opened his father’s drawer. Within lay a large pile of phone, water, and electric bills. One after the other they read “late” or “unpaid.” Next to them, there was a small pile of grocery coupons that was being rapidly depleted. Wrong drawer, he thought. I’ll try the bottom one. As Matt opened it, the bottom drawer creaked loudly and released a musty smell. Matt chuckled. Good thing Dad’s at the factory, he thought. He thinks I’m working. Why work myself when he can do it? In the drawer, a small jar full of small bills was carefully laid to the side. A small label on it said, “Rent Money.” It held about 400 dollars. Next to it, a piece of paper read, “February Rent: $500.” Matt reached into the jar and took a twenty-dollar bill. Finally, he thought, I found it. As Matt left the two-room apartment, he saw a notice on the door. “Whoa,” he gasped, his eye wide in disbelief. “They raised all the rents in Queens. Well, Dad can pay it. He’s got five days.” Matt closed the door and ran upstairs to talk to Jose and Nick, who were twins and his best friends. He knocked softly on their dark brown door. After a few seconds, Jose answered. He had blue eyes and a mop of dark brown hair. He towered over Matt, who was fairly tall himself. “’S’up?” Jose asked, his usual conversation starter. “Nick is testing his slingshot on our door. Come in.” Unlike Matt’s family, Jose and Nick had money. The brothers didn’t even have to share a room! Matt thought they were very lucky. The three boys gathered in Nick’s room. Matt looked at the walls. These posters are so nice, Matt thought. I wish I had them. “So?” Nick questioned eagerly. “Why’d you come? It’s kind of late.” Matt gave them a smug smile. “Well,” he began, “I got twenty bucks, and they’re selling those extra-large exploding poppers at the deli at five dollars for ten poppers. We can get forty of them with my money and shoot people with our slingshots!” They all laughed. Slingshots were their hobby, and they loved to hit people with cheap, store-bought explosives. “But where’d you get the money?” asked Jose. “You usually have to borrow, and your dad works ten hours at the factory. Did you steal it?” “Nah,” Matt lied. “It was his present to me.” But in his head, he felt a little guilty. Whatever, he thought. We’ll pay rent fine. I do this all the time, and Dad doesn’t care. He did say I needed to get a job, but why should I? “Now then, I’m going to buy a pack of poppers, all right?” They nodded excitedly and told him to hurry up. Matt ran out of the twins’ apartment and hurtled down the stairs. He opened the glass building door and made a dash for the small deli. Its yellow sign was beaten and torn. “Hi, Matt,” said Carlos, the clerk. “I don’t see you too often. What are you here for? You rarely have money to spend.” The small man smiled warmly. Matt grabbed a pack of poppers. “I’ll take these,” he said hurriedly. Matt paid quickly and zoomed back out of the store. “Kids these day,” Carlos sighed. “No way I was this rowdy back when I was thirteen. I was already working.” He laughed to himself. I wonder how he got money, Carlos wondered. As Matt ran toward the apartment, he saw his dad coming home from the large factory. Odd, he thought, they must’ve closed the factory early today. When he saw his father coming closer, he immediately stuffed the large, white poppers and the leftover money into his backpack. He saw that his father had a very grave expression on his face, but that happened fairly often. “Hello, son,” he said, “I’m glad that I have found you. Did you find a job?” “No,” Matt replied, “I didn’t.” He did not mention what he had done instead. “Ugh,” his father muttered. “I’ve come home because the factory closed, and they cut the day’s pay. We’re struggling enough as it is. So, Matt, where are you going?” “Oh,” said Matt, startled at the question. Think fast, he thought, think fast. “Just to visit Jose and Nick. I haven’t seen them in a while.” “OK,” Matt’s father replied. “Be home by eight o’clock for dinner. I’m going to go do some work for Carlos.” His father walked off towards Carlos’s deli. He’s finally gone! thought Matt, very relieved. He hurried back to the build ing and showed Jose and Nick the poppers. Pop! They all laughed as they tested one out. Matt’s financial worries began to wash away. “We should totally get more of these and shoot them at people!” Nick exclaimed. “ I’d love to see the look on Principal Walton’s face. It would be priceless.” The boys chuckled at the thought of scaring their hated principal. “OK, but after school tomorrow,” Matt said. “I have to go home.” They exchanged goodbyes, and Matt went back to his apartment. Man, he thought wistfully. I wish we lived there. When he walked in, his father had a very worried look on his face. He was leafing through bills and looking at his most recent paycheck. “Matt,” he said, “sit down, I need to talk to you.” He handed him a microwave dinner. “The landlord has raised our rent by fifty dollars, and…” Matt faked surprise, breathing out sharply. But in the back of his head, he felt a pang of guilt and worry. “Yes,” his father continued. “I’ve done the math, and we can’t pay it. If that happens, we will be evicted from the building after three days’ time. That is why I need you to start working and earning some money. I’m sure you could get
