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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Experience · #1657408
The old man was so nice to let us play with his army men. Was he too nice?
What was it that happened in that old man’s house that day? It was definitely something that changed Danny. Twenty-seven years later, I can only guess and wonder why he chose Danny and not me.

I was in Arizona for my whole summer vacation visiting my aunt Connie. It was a life changing three months. My aunt had a friend who came by quite often to her little apartment. Steve was a kind man and I thought he was her boyfriend. I was wrong.

Along with Steve, like a shadow, was Danny. He was my age and we immediately became friends. He was blond haired and blue eyed like Steve so I initially thought they were father son. This was not the case.

"Why do you live with Steve?' I asked him one balmy afternoon.

"My parents asked him to watch me one day while they went on a trip. That was last January. They haven't come back, yet." His reply was uncomfortable so I did not pursue it further. I never would find out about his parents. "You should see his house. It is gigantic and has a pool."

We were wandering, aimlessly around the town one day. Boredom was like a weight on our young shoulders. Perhaps if we had some quarters for the video games at the pizza parlor or the convenience store that day, I would not even be telling this story.

"I think Mr. Simpson lives around here," Danny broke into an extended silence.

"Who's that?" I asked, eager for anything to break the monotony of the day.

"He's a friend of Steve's," he answered. "He has lots of army men we can play with and he always gives me some when I am done playing at his house."

I was so excited. I loved playing with the toy soldiers. I had a small collection back home that I played with for hours on end. "Sounds cool."

After locating the house, Danny knocked on the door of the small ranch style house. An elderly man opened the door and, for some reason I did not understand, I shied away. In hindsight, I should have followed my instincts.

"Danny! How good to see you," Mr. Simpson spoke in a very slightly accented voice. His voice was deep and had no tremor typical to men his age. His false teeth and plastic smile seemed to fit each other. "Come in. Who is your friend?"

"This is Greg. His aunt is Steve’s friend."

We both entered. I was somewhat comforted by Danny's demeanor. He was shy most times, but every now and then, he exuded an adult confidence.

Mr. Simpson engaged us with some small talk for a few minutes. He related so easily to our age group, it was hard to view him as the retiree he was.

He rose from his flowered lounge chair. "I will get some cookies, chips and soda. Why don’t you get out the army men, Danny," he said as he exited the living room and went into the kitchen.

"Wait 'til you see this." Danny’s eyes were wide with excitement. He opened up a closet and pulled out a large chest. I was thrilled at the sight of it. The chest looked like the kind you see in a pirate movie with all the booty inside waiting.

He opened the container and in my mind's eye, I swear I saw a greenish glow emit from its depths. I looked inside and saw hundreds, maybe thousands, of the little green toy soldiers. The prone snipers, pistol waving generals, machine gunners, and riflemen in a pile that reached my knees.

"Whoa! I breathed.

"Yeah, I told ya he had lots," Danny responded with the pleasure of one sharing a terrific secret.

We pulled handful after handful out and divvied them up. Within minutes, we set up an elaborate battlefield. We were already in full swing of our imaginary battle when Mr. Simpson came in with the snacks. He surveyed the scene with a sparkle in his eyes as he stood with the large tray.

"Wow, you boys certainly wasted no time. Why don't you eat a little bit and explain to me what is happening down there."

We ate, we drank, and explained about the evil communists and the brave American soldiers who were there to destroy their wicked plans. He seemed pleased that we were fighting the good fight with our little toy soldiers.

I went back to the battle, but Danny said he had to go to the bathroom so I played alone. Mr. Simpson followed him down the narrow hallway.

I lost all track of time while I set up hundreds more of the little green figures. Eventually, Danny and the old man returned. All the childish exuberance had left Danny. Mr. Simpson was positively beaming, however.

"We have to go, Greg," he stated, all the fire gone from his eyes. Something in his expression warned me against argument.

We quickly returned the toy soldiers to their chest. Mr. Simpson let me take three of the soldiers home with me. To my jealousy, he let Danny take nearly twenty. I shot the senior a glance as I left, but his mind was elsewhere. He just stood there with a transfixed look of personal pleasure.

We walked in dead silence. The sounds of distant traffic the only thing that kept me from hearing my own heart beat. At some point, the quiet was too much for me.

"Why did you get to take so many army men?" I queried. "I only got three."

"He's my friend not yours," he shot back with venom in his voice.

"Okay, I guess. You don't have to be such a dick about it," I said with a little hurt in my tone. "Hey, what happened to your belt?"

"I guess I left it in the bathroom."





Word count:981





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