Bedtime Story


Once upon a time....

There was a young boy that lived at the end of the block.  He wasn't much to look at.  He was a little skinny, and had funny hair, and wore glasses.  The other boys made fun of him, but he didn't mind.  Mostly, he kept to himself.  His parents could never afford the nice toys that the other boys got.  He didn't have a GI Joe or one of those spiffy astronauts.

Instead, he liked to play pretend.  He was really good at it.  While some boys would play soldiers, Ray, for that was his name, would *become* a soldier.  He would creep through the neighborhood quiet as a mouse, and no one ever caught him.

Sometimes he pretended to be a fireman and would put out fires.  Mr. Bolcheck never could figure out how his grill kept going out.  Sometimes, he would pretend to be a policeman, but not often.  Not since that time he got Mario in trouble for kicking Mrs. Meyrs' cat.  Once he pretended to be a famous motorcycle daredevil and nearly gave his mother a heart attack when he wound his bicycle through traffic.  

He got grounded for a week after that.  That week Ray pretended to be a dangerous criminal that was locked up in prison.  It wasn't as exciting a game.

One day, Ray found a book written by a man named London.  One of the older kids had left it on the bus stop bench.  Now, Ray didn't think much of reading.  Surely whatever was in a book couldn't be half as cool as something he could think up out of his head, but he decided to give it a try anyway. It was slow going.  Ray wasn't the best of readers.  He had caused Mrs. Loder, his teacher, no end of trouble in school.  She had even talked to his parents.  Ray had sat in the hall, and he didn't like the look on his dad's face when they all came out.  

His mother saw him struggling with the book one night after his chores.  Since Ray had never showed any interest in reading outside of what he was assigned in school, she decided to help him.  Every night after dinner they would sit at the kitchen table and she would help him with the big words.
 
The book was about a dog, which was the only reason that Ray liked it.  He'd wanted a dog since before he could remember, but they couldn't really afford one.  Plus, there wasn't much room for a dog in their small house.  Ray's dad said they were good for nothing anyway, so Ray got a turtle for Christmas instead.
 
As Ray struggled through the story he was whisked away to a world he could have never imagined on his own.  It was a place where people had to have dogs to survive.  Ray promised himself that one day he'd go and see such a place, if his mom would let him, of course.  After all, there were only so many adventures you could have in their tiny neighborhood.
 
From then on most of Ray's pretend time involved trekking through the frozen worlds from the book.  He imagined his own dogs and named each of them.  Sometimes he even took Dudley, his turtle, out of his tank and brought him along for the adventures.  Though, Dudley didn't seem to want to come out of his shell for the fun.  Ray suspected that Dudley was kind of a wimp.
 
One day when Ray was pushing his way through a blizzard (light snow showers) into the arctic realms (Mrs. Polnek's tiny garden) he came across something shiny in the snow.  Ray had trouble digging it out wearing his mittens.  His mother wouldn't let him out of the house without them.  Sometimes Ray wondered if Mr. Franklin's mother was as demanding.  Finally, he managed to pry it out of the snow.  It was some kind of medal.  The ribbon was dirty and frayed, and Ray couldn't really tell what color it had been.  There was a name on the back, but the letters had been worn almost completely away.  Ray put his prize in his pocket and headed back home.  There would be hot coca waiting on him in the kitchen.  The dogs would appreciate a sip.
 

Once inside, and pried out of his snow suit, Ray went to his room and stared at his new find.  Medals were given to brave men, men who had done great deeds.  Surely it was something valuable to someone.  After all, it had obviously been well worn by someone's hands.
 
Ray was determined that he would return the medal to its rightful owner.  It would be an adventure like he craved.  First, he had to find out who it belonged to.  Ray flipped over the medal and squinted at the name on the back.  It was hard to make out, but eventually Ray could read a name.

Lance Welsh.  Ray had never met anyone in the neighborhood with that name.  He decided to ask his mother.  She knew everyone.  His mother was surprised when Ray showed her the medal.  She told him that it was called the Bronze Star and only very brave men were given them.
 
Ray told her that he wanted to return it to its owner and she agreed.  He was surprised when she didn't know the person's name.  He thought quickly and brought her the phone book.  She smiled and patted him on the head.  They looked through the small columns together.  There were a lot of Welshs in Chicago, but not one of them was named Lance.
 
Ray watched his mother frown.  He asked her what was wrong and she explained that there may be no way of finding the medal's owner.  There were far too many Welshs to call and ask if they knew someone named Lance.  Ray frowned and wondered if his face looked the same as his mother's when he did it.  His mother saw how upset he was and told him she would ask his father if he knew of anyone near by with the name.  They would just have to wait until his father came home from work.
 
Never had Ray wished for a dog more.  Dudley would never be able to sniff out the owner of the medal.  Even if he could it would take a month to follow him to the person's door.
 
Ray went to his room and lay on his bed.  His adventure was ended before it had begun.  He swore he wouldn't cry.  Crying was for babies.  His face was just wet from the snow.
 
When his father came home, Ray rushed to the door.  He tried to explain everything all at once and his father told him to take a breath.  Thankfully, his mother intervened and handed over the medal.  His father sat down at their small kitchen table and looked at the lump of medal thoughtfully. Ray and his mother both stared at his father.  He didn't dare breathe.
 
Finally, the burly man nodded.  Surely that new police officer that patrolled up near the plant was named Welsh.  Perhaps he would know who the owner was.
 
Ray let out a whoop and started jumping around the kitchen.  His father stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.  The older man told him not to get his hopes up, and wasn't it time for bed? Ray frowned.  Part of him wondered if Mr. Franklin was ever sent to bed early.
 
The next morning, Ray went with his father to work.  It wasn't the first time he had ever been to the meat plant, but it was definitely the first time he had ever been excited about it.  Ray was introduced to several of the men that worked with his dad.  Each in turn was asked about the patrolman, but no one had seen him yet that morning.  Ray wasn't allowed to go inside where his father worked.  A plant was a dangerous place, as he was told repeatedly.
 
Of course, this only made Ray want to explore it more, but this day he had a job to do.  His father sat him on a bench outside the large doors were men loaded the meat onto big trucks.  Ray had never considered pretending to be a truck driver before.  He added it to his list of things to do later.
 
Time passed slowly, as it always does for children.  Ray craned his neck and kept looking up and down the street.  What seemed like days later, a blue uniform walked slowly around the corner.
 
Ray bolted to his feet and ran as fast as he could down to the street.  He zigged and zagged and dodged people milling about doing their jobs.  Several men shouted at him, but he didn't even stop to hear what they said.  Ray skidded onto the icy sidewalk and his feet kept going.  The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back in a lump at someone's feet.
 
An amused young man looked down at him.  He was squarely built and still had the fresh face of youth.  Barely out of the academy, his dad had said the night before.  Ray didn't know that police officers had to go to school too.  It was something he certainly would never bother to pretend.  Although, maybe learning to shoot a gun would be cool.
 
A strong square hand was held out for him.  With a quick tug, Ray was on his feet.  The officer even dusted the snow off his pants like he was a little kid or something.  Ray protested rather loudly.  When he was finished, Ray asked the man if he was named Welsh.   The officer nodded and said his name was Harding.  Ray thought that was even worse than Stanley, his first name, but he didn't say so.
 
Ray asked if he knew anyone named Lance and fished the medal out of his pocket where his mother had put it that morning.  The man's face grew grim.  He took the medal from Ray's hand and asked him where he had got it.  Ray explained about his adventure in Mrs. Polnek's garden.  The officer's grim line of a mouth moved into a tiny smile as Ray expounded on his adventures.  He even started in on the names of his dogs when the officer stopped him.
 
Officer Welsh had a story of his own.  Lance was his uncle and had passed away some years before.  No one had known what had happened to all his medals from the Korean War.  They had somehow disappeared.  Ray noticed Harding's face when he said this and knew that he was lying.  He almost wanted to ask, but he thought for sure his father would whip him for calling a police officer a liar, so Ray kept his mouth shut.  Harding slid the medal into his pocket and thanked Ray.  With a sad look in his eye, Officer Welsh continued his beat without looking back.
 
Ray's little adventure was over it seemed.  He walked back up to the plant and told the lady behind the desk that he needed to call his mom.  He waited for her to arrive and when she did they took the bus home.  Ray told her what had happened.  He even mentioned that he didn't think the officer had told him everything.  His mother hinted that perhaps little boys didn't need to know the whole story.  That seemed silly to Ray.  He always wanted to know that whole story.  That was the point!
 
Back home in his warm bedroom, Ray took Dudley out of his tank and pretended to be a policeman.  He saved Dudley from kidnappers for a while and that made him feel better.  Tomorrow he thought he'd be a soldier again, but that just depended on what he felt like.  The dogs looked on jealously, or at least Ray thought they did.   

He forgot all about the medal in time. And when he saw it again many years later on a plaque on the wall of his boss' office where he worked, it only sparked the faintest of memories.


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