Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

“Awesome throw” Nick hollered, waving the Frisbee in congratulations. Taylor’s perfectly-targeted throw was going to be hard to top, he realized--but he had one trick that always impressed. Rearing back, he gave the Frisbee a fling higher than the rooftops, yet spinning in such a way that it should come slowly down, like a helicopter. Unfortunately, the wind had other ideas.
“Oh, shoot!” Both of them saw that the gust would drop their disk into the Gleason’s yard. He was one of these cranky types, who had no sympathy for neighborhood kids and their errant missiles. Taylor and Nick both recalled the year they had bravely pushed the doorbell on his gatepost, thinking to ask for an out-of-bounds baseball. Mr. Gleason had swung open the door wearing pajamas, and revealing his pit bull, “Bullet” at his heel--without a leash.
“If you want, you can open that gate,” the old man had said…”and I’ll let Bullet here race you for it,” he had said. Nick and Taylor had both retreated in haste.
Much older now, Taylor was a skilled hurdler on the junior-varsity track team at her school. “I can do this,” she thought, eyeing the hedge that surrounded the Gleason’s yard. Their best chance, she figured, was to be in and out before Mr. Gleason even had a chance to react.
Clearing the hedge expertly, she nearly landed on the prone form of Mr. Gleason, unconscious on the grass. Seeing his shovel and a freshly dug dog-grave beside him, she deduced that he must have been there for hours. As Nick came sprinting to the fence, she shouted , “Call 9-11. I think Mr. Gleason has had a heart attack!”
“I’m just resting my eyes,” came a croaking response from the old man. “Now get off my property!”