As a 14 year old kid I knew I couldn't solve any of his problems but it"d would be great if I could make his eyes smile again.
“Sam, stop daydreaming and take out
the garbage.” Mom's voice jerked me back to our sunny, blue and
white kitchen. I groaned but got up to finish my chores. I knew I
was a lucky kid to have a healthy family, but it was hard to keep my
mind on what I was supposed to do.
I took the black plastic bag out to
our snow covered trash bin, my mind running through possible gifts.
Electronic games were good, but my budget didn't stretch that far. I
suppose I could get him a new CD but that seemed lame. The dog next
door was barking his head off. I guess the neighbors forgot to let
him back in after his morning run. Hey, what about that? A dog.
Who wouldn't be happy to get a puppy for Christmas? I rushed back
into the house to tell Mom.
“A puppy? Ohhh, Sam, I don't know.”
“C'mon, Mom. It'd make everyone
smile, not just Josh.” I thought my mother would agree that a
spunky, little dog would be a great gift. But she pointed out the
flaws in my plan.
“Yes, everyone would love the dog,
but who'd end up having to take care of it? Josh and his sister and
Dad are away all day. His Mom is home but I don't think she has much
energy left after dealing with chemo. A puppy has to be trained.”
“Well, then, I'd get an older dog.
One who'd be slow and didn't need to be trained.”
Mom put her arms around me. I was too
old for hugs but she kept giving them to me. “Sam, it's a great
idea, but a family should pick out a pet for themselves.”
I grunted, “OK. I'll think of
something else.”
“I'm sure Josh will be happy with
whatever you give him.” She patted my head. She actually patted
me on the head like a baby kid. Geesh.
I slumped off to watch TV. Not much
was on. Sometimes the cooking show could be funny. Especially when
things went wrong. Today it was about Christmas cookies. And that's
when I had a terrific brainstorm.
I would make Josh a humongous cookie.
Everybody loved cookies. I had never baked before, but how hard
could it be. My mom, grandma and aunts baked all the time.
I found the show's “Easy Chocolate
Chip Cookie recipe” on their web site. The recipe said it would
make two dozen--enough for a blockbuster giant one. Three days
before Christmas I rode my bike to Kroger's and bought all the stuff
we didn't have at home. The streets were a little icy but I kept my
balance OK with the bag slung over the handlebars.
Mom was at her weekly yoga class so I
had the kitchen to myself. I dumped everything into a big bowl and
plugged in the beater. It was like a bucking bronco. Bits of dough
flew out all over. I fumbled around but got the speed turned down.
I poured the batter onto a large,
round cake pan I had greased according to the directions. It looked
lumpy, but it would be perfect once baked in the 350 degree oven. I
slid the pan in and set the timer for 15 minutes. It didn't seem
very long, but I would test it like I'd seen my mom test cakes. When
the timer buzzed I stuck a toothpick in and it came out pretty clean.
Hmm, I guess it was done.
I put the hot cake pan on a burner
grate from the cooktop to cool off. Then I had a problem. How was
I going to get it out of the pan and onto a plate? I hadn't thought
ahead about what I was going to carry it on. Our paper plates were
too small. I had to take four of them, cut off one edge and tape
them together to make a big enough plate for the giant cookie. It was
sort of floppy but it'd work.
I put my hand on top the cookie as I
flipped it onto the improvised plate. Perfection. It fell out
easily. I guess the grease worked. I stood for a minute, wallowing
in the successful feeling of an accomplished plan.
I took a red bow from the sack my
mother kept in her gift wrapping drawer and stuck it on the cookie.
Then I realized I had another problem. How was I going to get the
cookie over to Josh. I had planned to ride my bike but no way could I
balance the cookie while I pedaled. I would have to walk. It wasn't
too far, only about six blocks.
I zipped my jacket and carefully
picked up the cookie plate. I couldn't wait to see Josh's face when
he saw my gift. Everything was fine until I got to his sidewalk. I
guess he hadn't done his chores. The walk hadn't been cleared. I
took one step on it and skidded like a clown trying to balance the
floppy paper plates. My feet went out and I went down, my face
landing in my masterpiece.
Josh opened the door and burst out
laughing.
“What's so funny?” I muttered. I
wanted him to be happy but not by laughing at me.
“You! I saw you dancing or
something out there. And you're face is covered with some kind of
stuff. You look like you got an outbreak of the plague. You better
not come in if you're contagious.”
“Hey, this is a cookie I made with my
own hands. I even walked it over here to keep it in one piece.”
“I guess that didn't work. But
c'mon in.” He held the door for me. “I'm sure it's delicious.
Sorry, I didn't even notice you were carrying something. Your face
looks so...so...”
“I get it, no need to say anything
else. Here.” I shoved the pieces at him. “It's chocolate
chip.”
He started laughing again, “So
that's what those brown spots are on your face.”
I scowled at him, but then I noticed
that his eyes were smiling. Mission accomplished.
The End
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