Biting his lower lip, Homer watched the cars whiz by. Between each blurred car, he spotted his bright red ball resting against the curb across the street.
“Don’t ever go into that street alone, Homer,” he heard Mom’s voice inside his head. She had told him this at least a million times, and it always made sense. Until now. His most prized possession was inches away from getting run over.
Arf! Arf!
Bentley ran up next to Homer. Homer patted his dog’s head. “Hey buddy.” Homer gnawed on his lower lip, wondering how to get his ball back.
Bentley hopped to attention, ears perked, and barked excitedly. Then he bolted forward.
Homer yelled, “No boy!” But it was too late; Bentley ran straight across the street. Car horns blared, tires screeched. Homer froze, too scared to do anything. When the commotion ended, Bentley was on the opposite side of the street next to Homer’s ball, wagging his tail and smiling back at Homer. All traffic had stopped.
Homer dashed across the street and scooped up his ball. He jogged back to his side of the street with his dog trotting beside him.
Then Homer saw the scariest, most horrible sight he had ever seen. Mom. She stood on the front porch, her faced folded up with fear.
Uh oh! Homer thought as he stepped onto the curb.
Mom stomped down the porch steps. “How? . . . Why! . . . What on earth were you thinking?”
Homer winced.
“What are you doing out front, and in the street? And why is the dog out front?”
Homer realized he must have left the gate open when he came out to get his ball.
“Well, Bentley and I were playing aliens. The ball was meteors crashing on the moon, but I threw it too high and it went over the fence. Then it rolled across the street,” Homer explained. “I knew I wasn’t supposed to go out there. And I didn’t, Bentley did. I just went after him.”
Mom’s left eye twitched and Homer quivered.
“Homer, you could have gotten hit by a car. Bentley could have too!” Mom drew in a deep breath, leaned forward and took the ball from Homer. “That wasn’t very responsible.”
Homer stared at the bright red ball now in Mom’s hands, and suddenly it was clear. He looked at her. “I should’ve come to get you, huh?”
Mom squatted down in front of Homer and nodded. “Yes dear, that’s what you should have done.” Mom looked down at the ball. “Homer, I’m going to hold onto this until I feel you’ve learned how to be responsible.” She stood up and walked toward the house. “It’s lunch time, buddy.”
“I’ll put Bentley away, Mom.”
She smiled at him before walking through the front door with Homer’s shiny red ball tucked under her arm.
Homer sighed. After Bentley’s heroic rescue, Homer had lost his treasure anyway.
“Come on, boy, race you to the backyard.”
His eyebrows scrunched together and he gnawed on his lower lip again.
“I wonder how you learn to be responsible,” he said to Bentley. “And if it hurts!”
~The End~
Illustration Copyright © 2008 Livia Coloji
Copyright © 2008 by Kai Strand