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Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #924134
a short story about a boy and the mystery of what's in his garage
Thwack ! Thump thump. The tennis ball hit the panel of the garage where it was supposed to, a low and away strike to a right hander. The wood of the garage door hadn't yet started to splinter and break, but it would. Sam was pitching for his beloved Cubs and he knew he would help them win the world series one day. His Dad and brother Chet stood behind him as he continued his game.

"Is he going to throw his arm out, throwing the tennis ball that way Dad? " Chet inquired.

"Nah, heck he's only in first grade. He'll be alright"

The ball hit one of the ridges that protruded from the many panels that made up the white garage door and flew high into the air. Sam followed the arc and raced to meet it. He snatched it out of the air just inches off the black top driveway in a daring shoestring catch. Two outs in the top of the eighth, the Cubs clinging to a one run lead.

"Come in for dinner soon son" Dad yelled over his shoulder as he walked up the back door steps.

"yeah, but don't let the Gentle Giant know your out here alone" Chet chuckled as he followed his father into the house.

Sam reached back for some extra speed and hurled the last strike of the eighth. Sam grinned as the ball struck the panel, low outside strike. His mind wandered to what was behind the door of the detached garage, as he decided if the Cubs would give him any cushion in the bottom of the eighth.

As usual, the Cubs were hapless in the eighth. Sam was in a bit of a jam. Two pitches had drifted inside and struck the nasty inside ridge and flew over his head. Runners on on second and third, two outs and the dreaded Willie Stargell at the plate. Sam could hear the crowd at Wrigley field roar in support. He worked the count to three balls and two strikes. The crowd was deafening as he retrieved the ball and stepped back up to the mound. He heard a familiar voice in the distance and a bell.

"Dinner , Dinner! " his Mom called as she rang the little gold bell that summoned all the kids in for dinner.

" one more pitch mom " Sam hurried to the mound, wound up and the ball flew from his hand and struck the garage in the spot. The wood weakening a bit more. Sam struck out Willie Stargell ! He jumped high into the air with his arms outstretched.

"Cubs win ! Cubs win ! " Sam shouted as the ball rolled off to the side of the garage.

Sam bounded over to pick up the ball which now rested near the side door to the garage. It was a walk in door with a thick cover of dust and grime over the lone window. Sam glanced at the window and thought he heard a voice calling him. It was deep and soft, soothing almost.

"Saaam, Sam come in and see me".

Sam was mesmerised, he stepped towards the door and reached out for the old rusted knob. He had almost touched the knob when his mother called out with some irritation.

" Sam, come on.. dinner's on the table" Sam backed away from the door grabbed his ball and ran up the steps through the mud room and into the kitchen.

A few of the kids were still arriving, all eight of them. The dinner ritual began. Everyone washed their hands, said prayers and dug in to the meal. Sam was seated to the left of his Mom in the "safe seat". Being the youngest this was his normal place as it offered protection from any jabs that may come his way. His oldest brother, Chet was seated in the "hot seat" which was to the right of Dad in a blocked corner. There was no way out if Dad started to turn on him.

The conversation was lively. It seemd everyone had something to say. Sam bided his time, although he couldn't wait to get it out. There was a brief pause and Sam blurted out.

" I heard a voice calling me fom the garage."

Everything stopped. Everyone stared at Sam incredulously. Karen even dropped her fork. Chet was the first to break the silence with the beginning of a smirk on his face.

"What did this voice say?" Sam repeated the story. All but Chet laid into Sam with things like

"That's ridiculous"

" what an imagination" and

"oh Sam, you're so sweet ". When the table turned quiet again. Chet spoke.

" It's the Gentle Giant Sam, be careful"

"If it's a gentle giant, why do I have to be careful?" Sam asked

"That's how he gets ya ! He'll sound all sweet and it's tough to resist how calming he is. Then he'll trap ya ! You won't be able to resist his clutches and he'll have you forever !" Chet looked Sam in the eyes and repeated his warning with a smile.

"Be careful Sam OK ?"

"OK Chet, I will"

Everyone was satisfied that that was the end of it and began the after dinner chores. The chores were posted on the lime green refrigerator and all the kids glanced at it to see their assignment for the evening. Mom and Dad left for the den to enjoy a bit of quiet and a glass of wine while the kids went to work on the kitchen. The eight pairs of hands made quick work of it. The dishes were washed and dried, counters cleaned and floors swept in no time at all. The kids then went their separate ways. Sam went to his room with the intention of playing with his hot wheels cars.

Sam hurried up the narrow staircase that led to the bedrooms. His was the first one on the left. He shared it with John and Gary, his other two older brothers, and it was a mess. Clothes and toys were scattered throughout and Sam wondered how he would ever find his beloved cars. He tried to remember where he had left them. He started his search under the bunk bed and continued throughout the room. He finally found the bag underneath his pile of dirty clothes right by the window. He glanced out and his eyes were instantly drawn to the garage.

The sun was low and cast an erie light through the neighbors thin line of trees onto the garage. Sam looked past the swing set and flower beds and tried to see through the garage door. He wondered about the Gentle Giant and how anything that sounded that reassuring could be dangerous. He stood there entranced until his brother John stepped in and told him he had better get to bed. Sam had been staring out there for a long time and just now realized how tired he was. He slipped into his pajamas and was asleep shortly after his head hit the pillow.


Saturday arrived bright and clear. Sam had all but forgotten the garage and the voice. He ate his breakfast quickly, played with his cars for awhile and the got the urge to pitch as he usually did. He ran down the stairs, zipped past his mom and grabbed his glove and ball from the mud room shelf.

"Where are you going Sam ?" his mother called.

"Out back to pitch Mom " Sam didn't hear his Mother's reply as he was already out the door, the screen door slamming behind him.


Sam wasn't thinking about anything but pitching on his fourth pitch. That was about to change. The ball flew out of his hand with some extra speed, misssed the spot, hit one of the ridges and caromed wildly off to the left. It hit the chain link fence pole and rolled directly to the base of the side garage door. Sam stopped and just looked at the ball. He didn't want to be tempted again, but it was his only ball. As he stared, he tried to gather his strength. He had a feeling of what would happen once he approached the door. The Giant would call him and he wouldn't be able to resist the soft deep voice. In frustration, Sam began to move, in circles. He was having quite a debate with himself. He went from quitting and abandoning his ball to a quick run and quick snatch of the ball and back again. His brother's warnings were echoing in his head. " This is silly " he said to himself and made a decision.

He decided he could do it. He would announce himself to the Gentle Giant and resist the voice. Sam began to march. He marched towards the ball with knees high and his body straight, just as he'd seen the leader of a marching band do. He called to the Giant " I'm going to get my ball, leave me alone!" There was no reply. He thought that had done it and was reaching down for the ball when the voice gently rang out.
" I'll never harm you Sam. Come in and talk to me, the door's open" Sam at first went rigid, then the melodic bass of the Giant's voice soothed him, relaxed him, beckoned him. His body felt limp, he stood up again and looked at the door. It was indeed open.

A thin dark crack appeared in the doorway. Sam stared at it, dreading what was inside but drawn to it. He dropped the ball and tentatively reached his hand to the door. As he put his palm gently on the door, his heart began to race. He took a deep breath and put a little pressure on the door. It immediately swung open with a loud creak and a thud as it hit the wall. The open door did not let in much light. Sam peered in, but could only see shadows. Nothing was revealed to him. "I'm coming in " he shouted to the darkness. Hesitantly, he stepped through the doorway. As his eyes adjusted to the very dim light, he started to identify things in the garage. There were rakes, shovels, a lawn mower, gardening tools, and a variety of useless items. Dominating the space however was a car covered in a tarp.

Sam begin to feel a bit more comfortable and he relaxed somewhat. He studied the tarp over the car wondering what was underneath. When he was calm the the voice returned.
" Go ahead Sam, I know you want to "
"want to what ? Who are you ? Where are you ?" Sam shrieked. There was a deep gentle chuckle.
"I am here, who I am is not important, and you know what you want to do"

Sam spun around trying to find where the voice was coming from. He couldn't tell, it seemed to be all over the garage. He put his hand on the car for support as he searched in vain for the source of the voice. The tarp raised a bit from the front of the car. "that's it Sam" The voice beckoned. Sam gave in, he had to see the car. He hadn't known there was even a car of any kind in the garage. He struggled to release the tarp from the front of the car. It finally came free and he frantically rolled the tap back and off the car. He was holding the tarp in his hand as he stared. It was beautiful in Sam's eyes. It was a golden 1964 Buick Lesabre and Sam was entranced. He had never seen such a color of car.

"whoa" Sam whispered.

" Get in " the voice urged calmly, insistently. The door popped open. Sam did not hesitate this time. He quickly walked towards the door with the tarp still in his hand. He didn't see the lawn mower. His right leg ran right into and in an instant he was spinning, falling. The spin caused the tarp to wrap completely around himself and as he fell into the car he couldn't see. Sam heard deep frightening laughing now and began to panic.
"Help ! Help ! The giant's got me ! " Sam screamed as he struggled to free himself from the tarp. He was making little progress when he heard a strange clattering noise and he saw a dim light through the tarp. Then to Sam's amazement the tarp was off his head and he was staring at the gauges of the car. On the fuel gauge there was a decal. It showed a picture of a large smiling face with the words " Gentle Giant" printed in large roman lettering underneath. Sam was bit dazed and confused and looked around. The garage door was open and sunlight filled the garage. Then he looked to his left and saw Chet Standing next to the car with a big grin on his face.


" So the Giant got you eh ? It got me a long time ago. Wanna go for a ride ?"



























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