A nice place to collect my flash fiction entries. |
Randy sat cross legged on the floor beating his drum; the same rhythm over and over. “Randy! Please!” His mother yelled after the fourth hour. His mother closed doors, but the constant rhythm reverberated in her head. She didn’t want to leave the tyke unattended but she couldn’t stand it a minute longer. She picked up the phone, and dialed the pediatrician. The automated system picked up. Thump, pause, thump, pause, the pattern continued. She pressed 5 and frantically rattled off Randy’s personal information. Then she explained briefly that Randy was playing his drum, left her number and hung up. Carla played the tape. She listened to Mary’s frantic voice as she explained that her son was playing his drum. So what? She could hear the tapping in the background, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what the medical emergency was. She called Sandra. “Hello?” “Sandra, this is Carla with Randy’s pediatrician. What exactly is wrong?” “He won’t stop playing.” “He won’t?” Carla paused. She heard the same drumming in the background. Sandra started sniffling. “No!” Tears formed in her eyes, she ran her fingers through her hair grasping and pulling it hard. “How long has he been playing with his drum?” “Six hours now. It’s the same over and over. I just don’t know what to do.” “Ok, make the room as dark as possible, and put the phone to Randy’s ear.” “What?” “Just do it, Sandra.” Carla sighed. “Ok, here’s Randy.” She placed the receiver at Randy’s ear. Randy opened his eyes, put the drumstick down and smiled joyfully at his mother. “Carla, he stopped. What did you say to him?” Sandra inquired as she picked up the giggling little boy. “Oh, just a little grandmotherly magic, and Sandra, hide the drum!” word count- 298 |