This was a contest entry for Writer’s Digest, who gave the subject for the piece.
GABBY’S GUMBALL SURPRISE
Large gumballs in every imaginable color filled the glass globe: shiny, round and sweet. Gabby’s mouth watered at the variable sugar-fest just out of reach. The seven-year-old tugged at her mother’s jeans.
“Mommy, can I…”
Her mother’s dismissive hand pushed hers away, too engrossed in conversation with their neighbor, Mrs. Wilson, about “you know who” doing “you know what” at a barbecue last Saturday night.
Gabby thought it funny the two women talked in code, knowing they spoke of old Mr. Miller stripping down to his underwear and jumping in the neighbor’s pool. Gabby, along with her best friend, Kala, had watched from the bedroom window where they were supposed to be sleeping.
A light on the side of the house had served as a spotlight, with Mr. Miller playing the part of a model walking a catwalk─the pool’s diving board. Mr. Miller’s flabby folds flopped as he sashayed down the diving board, stopped at the edge, and then belly-flopped into the pool while the neighbors cheered him on.
Gabby squeezed her eyes shut to erase the memory, sending Mr. Miller and his gross, naked body to drown in the crystal clear water.
Seeing her words fell on deaf ears, Gabby sought out someone more compliant: her father, who always had a soft spot for Gabby’s baby-blues, would surely cough up two quarters for his little “angel”. He stood with Mr. Wilson, talking about, what else, sports.
“Daddy, can I please have two quarters?”
Bingo! Her father reached in his pocket and scooped out a handful of coins. “I’m sorry, angel, I don’t have two quarters.”
Mr. Wilson patted Gabby’s head. “Let’s see if I have any.” He folded his pocket inside out and dumped its contents into his palm. Gabby marveled at the treasures: a rubber band, a long screw, a movie ticket, and several coins. “This must be your lucky day.” Mr. Wilson held up two quarters.
“What do you say,” her father prompted when Gabby held out her palm.
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome. What do you want to buy?”
Gabby bit her lower lip and pointed to the gumball machine. Her father looked to her mother, nodded, and then continued his conversation with Mr. Wilson. Gabby slid the quarters in the machine and turned the crank. The sound of the coin engaging brought a rush of adrenaline; the gumball traveling through the metal tunnel, exhilaration; the sound of it hitting the metal door, pure joy. She squealed with delight, anxious to see what color gumball she received.
Her mother’s voice broke through her reverie. “Jim, we talked about this.”
Her father countered with, “It’s only a gumball.”
Her mother tapped the glass globe. “Really! That’s a dentist’s dream,” she yelled in a whisper through clenched teeth.
With one hand securely cupped under the door, Gabby opened the latch with the other, freeing the gumball from its glass prison.
“Please let it be pink,” she whispered, knowing the color would stain her tongue and lips. She always wanted to wear pink lipstick.
Instead of a gumball, a small tooth dropped in Gabby’s hand. Her eyes bulged, wondering, Where’s the rest of the body? She half-expected to see a set of eyes peeking out from the pile of colorful balls.
“What in the world!” Her mother rummaged through her purse.
Gabby slipped the tooth in her pocket. Her eyes pleaded with her father to keep her secret.
“Hold out your hands,” her mother said.
Gabby complied, and her mother proceeded to scrub them raw with antibacterial lotion, like doctors on TV shows right before an operation.
“Let that be a lesson to you,” her mother said and sent and “I told you so” look to her father.
Frowning, her father held out his hands. “Come on, angel.” He picked her up, perched her on his shoulders, and whispered, “What do you intend to do with that tooth?”
Gabby eye’s brightened. “I’m going to put it under my pillow tonight. The tooth fairy will take it and leave me money so I can buy more gumballs.”