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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1074739-Icicle-King
by BarbW
Rated: · Other · Other · #1074739
As a child I try to remove a large Icicle from our house and damage the family car.
The Icicle King
One evening in the late spring, my best friend, Susan and I spied a large icicle on the edge of my garage. It was at least 3 feet long and 6 to 8 inches wide.

Our eyes met and the challenge ensued to dislodge this ice king hanging from my roof. It teased us by hanging inches from our reach.
I tried to jump and seize it but missed. Susan took a running leap but fell short of grasping the slippery mass.

Motionless, it hung there taunting us. Silently, it mocked us.

Undaunted, I tried to figure a way to remove this scourge from my home. Searching the area, I found the weapon of choice, a large round rock partially hidden in the dirt and grass. Susan and I swooped down and unearthed it.

My skinny little muscles worked hard to lift this 3 to 4 pound weight as I took aim at my frozen enemy on the overhang of the garage. With a burst of energy I tossed the rock it sailed toward the ice but missed. The muddy ground sent sprays of brown goop all over us. Susan tried, her venture missed as well. Once again the rock landed with a squish in the mud and grass.

Our muscles ached and our puny arms quivered as we took turn after turn.

Finally, out of desperation, I stood in the yard. Without doubt, changing where I stood would be the determining factor in the defeat of this thing. I took careful aim and hoisted the rock to shoulder height; with all the strength I had left in me I hurled the projectile. Up and up it soared, then down and down it ascended and landed with a sickening thud on daddy’s car. The rock rolled away from the car and Susan ran to the safety of her house across the street.

I walked slowly to the car, my stomach was in knots. Inch by inch I ran my fingers across the cavity. I studied the deep ugly dent in the shinny olive green colored Volkswagen Beetle. My heart was broken I never intended for Daddy’s car to be damaged.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I opened the front door. I stood motionless trying to muster up the courage to tell dad but all I could do was bawl. I did choke out enough of my story to daddy that he got the idea of what had happened. He brushed past me to the driveway, I followed him.

“Eeegads!” Daddy growled as he gazed at the crater in the fender. His eyes darted back and forth to the fender, the rock and then me. Each time his eyes met mine, I would sob. I was broken hearted that I had done this to my daddy’s car. He shook his head re-entered the house muttering something under his breath.

Tears continued down my cheeks as I shuffled toward the house. I pushed open the door and looked over my shoulder at the “Icicle King”. It had survived to fight another day, but summer was oh so near.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1074739-Icicle-King