I seldom write fiction anymore but a few days ago I got the urge. I let my mind loose with a wish to come up with a subject. My mind popped two words out. The two words were: water and balloons. This is the story I came up with. I don't know if I should be proud of it or not. I REALIZE IT'S AN INCOMPLETE STORY but I'm posting it anyway. Why? I'm not sure. Just humor me. Okay?
"Look out, Sheila!" Roger yelled.
"What?" Sheila called back. A mere second after she spoke, Sheila felt the heavy impact of the balloon filled with water as it landed full force on her right shoulder. She fell against the picnic table and struck her knee on the wooden bench seat.
Zack came running from his launching pad in the back corner of the yard. "Are you okay?" he gasped. "I hope you're not hurt." He approached Sheila hesitantly.
"You should have thought about that before you aimed that damn balloon at me, you jackass!"
"Let me take a look at you," Roger said. He poked at the red blotch on Sheila's shoulder.
"Quit. Quit that," Sheila screamed. "It's my knee that hurts the most," she said as she examined the spot that had hit the table.
"I'm really sorry, " Zack tried to apologize again.
"Oh, I guess I'll live. My shoulder's alright. I think my knee is too. The worst part was that I wasn't expecting it and all of the sudden I'm slammed in the back. I'll get over it eventually. I just need to be mad for a while."
All three of them sat at the picnic table. It was unfortunate that with all the open space where Zack could have sent his water bomb, it had landed on Sheila. All afternoon, he'd spent innocently watering patches of grass and trees with the bursting bladders. Obviously, he hadn't paid attention to where his last balloon was aimed before he let it fly.
"Let's go to the Dairy Queen. I'll treat both of you to whatever you want," Zack offered.
"Let's go but you don't have to treat us," Sheila replied with a half smile. "Save your money for a greater cause. You know Krissy's birthday is next week."
"I've already bought her something."
"Let's just get going. You've made my mouth water for a hot fudge sundae," Roger said.
In ten minutes, they slid from Roger's Suburban and filed in the door of the DQ. Soon they had their ice cream and settled on one of the tables set up between the restaurant and the road. The noise of the heavy traffic prevented them from talking. During the next few minutes, the balloon incident was forgotten and all was well again.
"What did you buy for Krissy?" Sheila asked.
"I'd rather not say," Zack replied. "You might slip and then she won't be surprised. I can't take that chance."
"You're probably right," Sheila said.
When the Suburban returned to Roger and Sheila's driveway, Sheila went in the house after saying goodbye to Zack. Zack ran to gather up his balloon launcher and jumped back in the vehicle with Roger. In less than ten minutes, Zack was delivered to his parent's home.
"Tell Mom and Dad I'll stop over this weekend," Roger said to Zack.
"Thanks for letting me hang out, bro," Zack said as he climbed out of the Suburban, lugging all his gear.
"No problem," Roger said. "No more water balloons for a while, okay?"
"That's for sure," Zack said as he shook his head with remorse.
"See ya," they both said at the same time. Roger backed out on Cranston Road and headed for home once more. He was relieved that the afternoon's unfortunate incident had been smoothed over. He didn't want anything to spoil the relationship his brother and new wife were working on.
"Sheila? I'm back," Roger called upstairs when he stepped in the house.
"I'll be down in a minute," she called.
Roger opened the refrigerator, grabbed a beer for himself and the wine bottle. As he poured a glass for Sheila, she limped into the kitchen.
"Does it hurt that bad?" Roger scowled as he took a closer look at her knee. He couldn't see any trace of damage, no redness or swelling at all.
"What do you mean, does it hurt THAT bad? I hit the bench hard when Zack's balloon knocked me over. Of course it hurts bad."
Roger tried to be calm. Sheila was overreacting again. If he questioned her any further, things would inevitably just get worse.
"I'll fix an ice bag if you'd like."