“Happy birthday, dear Rodger,” his parents sang, “happy birthday to you.”
Roddy blew out the candle shaped like the number ten, then waved the smoke away from his face. “That was pretty easy.”
Lacy pulled the cake closer, then handed the candle to Roddy. “Do you want to do the honors?”
“Sure,” Roddy said. He grabbed it, licked the frosting off, and tried to hand it back to his mom.
“What am I supposed to do with that? Please toss it in the sink.”
“You can go ahead and open your present while Mom is cutting the cake,” Doug said.
“I’m sorry it’s just us tonight,” Lacy said. “The house isn’t ready for a party yet.”
“That’s okay, I had a great day. Dinner was good and now we’re having cake and ice cream.”
Doug slid Roddy’s gift across the table. “Happy birthday, Roddy.”
“Did you wrap this?”
“How can you tell?” Doug said.
“How can I not?”
Lacy made eye contact with Doug and smiled. “I think it looks fine. But he didn’t use the prettiest paper. Or tape.”
Roddy tore into the plain paper. It was tougher than he expected, but he made quick work of it. He flung the mess of light brown paper and blue painter’s tape aside and focused on the box in front of him. It was one of his grandpa’s cigar boxes. Doug found the perfect size out of the more than two dozen available.
Roddy turned the box to open facing him. He opened the lid, revealing his grandpa’s nerve gun. “Awesome! I knew it!”
“Your mom and I talked about this for some time. We came up with a few rules you need to follow if you want to keep the gun.”
Lacy started things off. “Rule number one, under no circumstances are you to take it to school. You’ll give it to me on school mornings. Only then will I let you leave the house.”
“Rule number two,” Doug said, “you can only play with it in the neighborhood with your friends. And don’t point it at anybody who doesn’t know it’s not a working gun. I tried shooting it several times in the alley to make sure it doesn’t work. The trigger felt like it wasn’t connected to anything, and I heard something rattling around after I cut the wire and removed the tag. I opened it up and pulled the loose part out. A spring and a pin from Grandpa’s screw bins made the trigger feel more realistic.”
“And rule number three,” Lacy said, “don’t leave it laying around outside. We don’t know what the weather will do to it. As you saw, there aren’t any replacements.”
“Do you think you’ll you be able to follow these rules?” Doug said.
“Yes.”
Doug’s tone turned from serious to celebratory. “Good. Let’s eat some cake!”
Lacy passed a fork and napkin to Doug. She passed another set to Roddy, then remembered to hand him a spoon. He has never liked eating ice cream with a fork, not even Rocky Road.
Lacy passed the first slice of cake to the birthday boy. “Dad will get you your ice cream.”
Doug put two scoops onto Roddy’s plate, then plopped two scoops onto each of the others. He grabbed the edge of the nearest one. “Is this mine?”
“Take your pick.”
Doug sat in his usual spot and carved the point from his slice. “This cake looks delicious.”
“I helped Mom make it.”
“That’s what she said.”
“All I did was stir, though. I’m still not good at cracking eggs without making a mess.”
“Stirring is an important job. Some would say the most important.”
***
Roddy spent the three weeks between his birthday and the first day of school either playing with his action figures in his bedroom or playing war with the two youngest Lytle kids and some of the other neighborhood children.
He set up the toy trucks, jeeps, and aircraft to match the positions of the cars in the Lytles’ back yard. His parents’ old cassette tapes represented the stacks of pallets, while socks stood in for the piles of trash.
He used this makeshift model of the backyard battlefield to devise new strategies and revise old tactics for the next skirmish. He had the entire layout memorized and made small changes to his diorama after each day’s combat.
The cars, pallets, furniture, and trash piles provided ideal cover for sneaking up on one’s enemies. The only downside was the possibility of getting cut on a couch spring, rusty car part or pallet nail. Despite those hazards, the Lytles’ mess of a yard was the perfect place for Roddy to play with his nerve gun.
Roddy grew bored playing alone and went downstairs. He went out the back door and around the side of the house, nerve gun in hand. He stopped at the front corner and peeked around it. Doug was in the driveway giving the car what may be its final bath of the summer.
Doug crouched and ran the wash mitt back and forth across the front passenger door. Roddy seized the opportunity. He crept across the lawn, being careful not to rustle the dry, brown grass. He made it to the halfway point. So far, so good.
Doug bent over and grabbed the spray nozzle laying at his feet. Then he squeezed the pistol-grip handle to rinse off the sudsy door. Roddy took three more steps. He had to act while his dad had his back to him. That thought was still fresh in his mind when his dad wheeled around and blasted him with the garden hose.
Roddy pulled the trigger as fast as his ten year old finger could manage. “Pew, pew, pew!”
“Too late,” Doug said, “I already got you.”
Roddy stood in the front yard scowling, water dripping from his fingertips and chin. “Yeah! Got me all wet!”
***
It was the fifth week of the new school year. Roddy hurried downstairs and rushed into the kitchen to grab his lunch. “Bye, Mom.”
Lacy turned around and caught him at the doorway. “Wait a minute, mister. Hand it over. Don’t make me frisk you.”
“Frisk me?”
“The nerve gun, hand it over.”
“Yeahhh, about that . . . ”
“What do you mean? Where’s the gun?”
“I lost it.”
“Lost it?
“I had it over at Grant’s house yesterday and somebody took it. I asked, but nobody would tell me where it was.”
“I’m going to have to look in your backpack.”
Roddy unslung his green camouflage pack. “Don’t you trust me?”
“I trust you,” Lacy said, “but this is too important for me to not check.”
Roddy was reluctant to hand over the backpack. Lacy grabbed it and rested it against her thigh to look through it. She paused when she found something large hidden in an inside pocket.
Lacy pulled the item out and held it up between them. “What’s this doing in here?”
“I was going to play with it at recess.”
“Do you want somebody to steal it?”
“No.”
Lacy thrust the pack back to Roddy. “You’re free to leave, but Cobra Commander isn’t going with you.”
“Fine,” Roddy said with slumped shoulders and a sigh. “What about my gun?”
“I’ll have your father go over after work and get it back.”
***
Lacy met Doug on the porch that afternoon to catch him before he had the chance to relax. “Would you please go to the neighbors and get Roddy’s gun back?”
“What happened?”
“He came in this morning to get his lunch, but didn’t have it with him. I asked where it was and he told me one of the kids hid it somewhere. I would have gotten it myself, but I don’t know them as well as you do.”
“I need to talk to Glen, anyway. He keeps calling me about that leaky faucet I helped him with.”
“Can’t he figure it out?”
“There’s nothing to figure out. He doesn’t like the way it looks, that’s all. Now he says he has to call a plumber and it’ll cost him two hundred dollars.”
“If he hates it so much, why doesn’t he redo it himself?”
“No idea. The parts are only twenty bucks and he knows how to do it. He saw everything I did the first time.” Doug let his aggravation show. “Now he wants to waste at least another hour of my time!”
“I know you’re frustrated with him, but cut him some slack. My guess is he doesn’t spend much time with other adult males and is looking for a little more ‘guy time’ with you.”
“You’re right. I might be overreacting. But, why do I have to be the guy?”
Lacy turned to go back inside. “Don’t stay too long, dinner’s almost ready. And be nice.”
“I will. I’ll get the gun and come right back.” Doug kissed her, then stepped off the porch. “Wish me luck.”
He strode to the end of the driveway and turned left onto the sidewalk, going over how he’d handle things. Between the plumbing situation and the stolen nerve gun, Doug had plenty to say.
He trained his eyes on the treacherous pavement ahead but could only think about the grass he saw in his peripheral vision. It was several shades greener than his own lawn, yet several shades lighter than the Lytles’ roof. He walked past the Bests’ yard with envy.
Doug fought the familial urge to jump at the broken section of concrete. He cut across the Lytles’ yard, heading straight for the porch. The energy he conserved by not jumping over the sidewalk propelled Doug up the four steps.
He knocked, then retreated to the middle of the small porch. The sound of footsteps grew louder, then disappeared somewhere into the house. Doug knocked again, staying close to the door this time. He waited a full minute before deciding to call Glen’s cell phone.
Glen’s number topped the list of Doug’s incoming calls. Doug touched the number then put the phone to his left ear. He heard ringing in both ears, then the ringing in his right faded away.
Glen answered after eight rings. “Hey Doug, what can I do for you?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“I’d love to, but now’s not the best time. Let me give you a call back.”
“I only need a minute. I’m on your front porch.”
“I’m not—
Doug cut him off. “I know you’re home, Glen. I heard your phone ringing.”
“I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say ‘I’m not able to come to the door right now.’”
“Then I’ll say it over the phone.” Doug turned around and headed home. “My wife told me one of your boys took my son’s nerve gun and hid it.”
“Your wife said that? What makes her think one of my kids took it?”
“My son told her. I’d like it back a soon as possible.”
“We have a few of those laying around. I’ll give you one. The boys quit playing with them after my wife said they could only use them outside. Can you imagine three rambunctious boys running around the house, shooting each other with nerve guns? My house was a mess.”
“I can only imagine.”
“Consider yourself lucky. I’ll go find one and bring it out.”
“Too late,” Doug said, “I’m already back home.”
“Then I’ll give it to you when we get back to that faucet.”
“Goodbye, Glen.”
Lacy was leaving the kitchen as Doug came through the front door. She heard him hang up on Glen. “You didn’t get it?”
Doug passed Lacy and went into the kitchen. “Nobody answered the door, so I called Glen’s cell. I heard it ringing in the living room.”
Lacy did an about-face and followed him. “He was trying to avoid you? After calling you nonstop this past week? What’s wrong with that guy?”
“He tried, but changed his tune after I told him I knew he was home. He told me they have a few and he’d find one to give me.”
“A few?”
“That’s what he said.”
Lacy’s tone turned skeptical. “Nerve guns.”
“That’s what the man said.”
“He must have thought you said ‘Nerf.’”
“He’d better not try to give me one of his kids’ grubby Nerf guns.”
Roddy thundered down the stairs and dashed through the hallway. Lacy had told him dinner would be ready when his dad got back. He slowed to a walk when he entered the kitchen. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hey, Roddy. You need to slow down on the stairs,” Doug said.
“Roger, sir.”
“I talked to Grant’s dad a few minutes ago. He said he’s going to replace your missing gun.”
“With what?”
“I have no idea. Don’t worry, though. I’ll bug him about it the same way he’s been bugging me about his faucet.”
“In the meantime, I don’t want you going over there,” Lacy said. “That’s enough talk about the Lytles, it’s time for dinner.”
*** End of Part 3 ***
Copyright ~ Terrence Campbell ~ 2023