There’s a note on the windshield of your car

WRITING CHALLENGE #2

There’s a note on the windshield of your car. The note says, “I’ve taken your most prized possession. If you want to see it again, in tact, meet me tonight at baseball field around the corner of the local high school. And bring your glove.” What makes this note so curious is that you’ve never played baseball, though you take no chances because your most prized possession is extremely valuable to you. Write this scene.

“Glove? What glove,” I thought. I haven't had a baseball glove in years. I suck at baseball. My dad gave me a glove when I was little. It fit very nicely on my left hand. Except that I was left handed. Do the math. I never got into baseball after that.

“Glove? What glove,” again I thought.

I had just gotten home from school and was surprised by the note. The Firebird was up on blocks in the driveway and had been forever. A work in progress, much to my parents' dismay. Still, I checked “my oldest baby” every time I walked up the driveway coming home from school.

But as I walked up the drive, I noticed something different. It was quiet. I wasn't welcomed home the way I usually was. I didn't mind not getting the bruises, but I did miss the routine. Then it hit me that something was wrong. Maybe not wrong, just different. Missing. I went inside.

While I had a sleeve of Oreos and a glass of milk, I tried to remember where I put it. Thinking...

It took a little digging, but I found it. I had put it in the “special” box where I kept my complete set of baseball cards, my soccer team letter, and my old retainer. It was still in the zip-lock bag I found it in.

I put it in my knapsack and walked over to the high school. It was late. It was dark. I was a little nervous. But I determined to get this done.

Not surprisingly, the parking lot is relatively empty at this time of night. Not totally, empty. Maybe the Travel Team hasn't come back yet. Anyway, I find a spot under one of the parking lot lights and wait. And wait. I had my iPhone with me so I know it was 17 minutes later when a black Cadillac limousine pulls into the lot. Over by the edge, in the shadows.

After a short time, the driver's side door opens and a large man gets out. He looks at me and says, “Jeremy, would you come over here? We would like to see you.”

“I'm sorry. Wait. We would like to see me?” I gulp and say to myself. There was no response from myself.
I
got up off the ground under the street light and slowly walk towards the black car. I could hear the sirens and whistles and soundtrack music in my head. This was not good, Mav. But still...

When I get near the car, the passenger's door opens and a well-dressed gentleman gets out. Well dressed but more ostentatious than I would expect. An electric fan blowing his hair from inside the car. A sequined fedora. Shiny Suit. With a strange but smooth gait, he moves backwards to the trunk of his car.

Taking his hat off and spinning around, he then snaps his fingers and the trunk of the car opens. Slowly. We both choke and cough a little on the dry ice fog.

“Do you have it?” he asks.

“Yes,” I reply. “I only have the right one, though.”

“Yes, I know,” he sighed. “That's the one I want.”

I took off my backpack and reached into the big pocket in the back. I pulled out the ziplock bag and handed it to him.

Opening the bag, he removed the sequined glove. He slipped it on his right hand and it fit perfectly. As I expected it would.

Michael smiled at me.

Very carefully, he and his driver reached into the trunk and removed my emu. As they placed him on the ground, the driver handed me the leash.

We watched Michael and the driver get back in the car and drive off.

The emu and I looked at each other and I think we both thought “We still have the left glove.”