Week 3-Journal 2 (Picture Story)

Marbles in Kyle

Kyle had done it, and now he was going to be the knight of the play ground. He had battled great odds, scaled treacherous terrain, and outwitted an out casted enemy. Only he had actually formed a bet with his friends, walked across to the swing set, and punched Meryl so hard that he dropped his precious marble bag for Kyle to steal it. He had made a point to hold the marble bag high, like the mid-day sun, above his head. The sounds of his fellow men’s cheers hummed in his ears as he sprinted to the other side of the school by the giant dumpsters. Now it was only a matter of time before the recess aid would come looking for him. He was going to be a legend, the Robin Hood of his era. His chest puffed with pleasure as quick breaths worked in and out.

He inspected the bag and found nothing special. It was worn, fake leather, with an unraveling string pulling it shut. Kyle undid the string and spilled its contents into his sweaty hand. There they were six fat marbles the size of a cat’s eye, each a dull earth tone. Kyle wanted to spit on them. There was nothing special about these…rocks! He didn’t see why Meryl was so proud of them, why he hugged them close to his chest like he would a baby blanket, why he kept the tied tight around his belt loop when he wasn’t counting them.

Kyle dropped the sack to the ground, hoping the fall would cause it to fall apart. It landed with a slight thump. Kyle inspected the bag with the toe of his sneaker. There was still one marble inside. He dumped the last one out. This marble was different from its opaque brothers; it was bright blue, pellucid, and smooth. Kyle put away the others and put the sack in his pocket. He pinched the new marble between his fingers, holding it close to his for inspection. He blew on it, his hot breath forming a temporary fog over the glass. It seemed real, like any normal marble, but it didn’t feel that way. It was colder than the others, and smoother, too smooth, not delicate but…

“Meow,” came from behind.

Kyle jerked, expecting the aid to be behind him, and dropped the marble. It rolled in a streak behind the dumpster. He turned around. A white cat with dull eyes was watching him, its head tilted to the side. Kyle whipped his sweat away; he had cheated death for a little while longer.
The cat hissed and retreated behind the dumpster. Kyle was reminded that the marble was still lost and followed the cat’s trail to find it. He held his breath and analyzed the shadowy area underneath. A hot stew of rotting lunches and spoiled milk swelled in his nose. He saw nothing. No marble and no cat. He stood up wanting to end the stench. He turned and the cat was behind him, staring. It looked not with it’s dulls eyes, but with one dull eye, the other was a bright blue.
Kyle paused. That eye looked to familiar.

“No,” Kyle declared. He waved the cat away, “Go!”

The cat didn’t blink. That eye, that glossy eye, remained focused on him.

“Go!” He said.

The cat took an arched step forward. Kyle felt himself, uncontrollably, back up. The cat began to hiss, its little teeth barring. Kyle took out the sack of marbles, winding up to throw. The cat stopped, a purr rumbled from its throat. Kyle looked from the bag to the cat.

“You want these?” He threw it in front of the cat. “Fine, they’re yours.”

The cat poked its nose against the opening of the bag. It worked its way inside, barely able to fit half its head. It remained there for a few moments, Kyle watched, eyebrows stuck upward. The cat finally came out, it’s eyes normal again. Kyle ran forward and poured the marbles into his hand. He found the blue one, and five earthy ones. He counted twice more. Five normal ones, there were six before, he was sure of it. The cat purred again.

Kyle took another step back, his stomach swimming with unease.

“Kyle Gale,” a voice from around the corner called, “I want you to come out right now!”

Mrs. Youngsmee, the recess aid, appeared.

“I don’t want to hear any stories. Give me Meryl’s marbles-"

Kyle shoved the bag in her hands. “Take them. Keep them. I don’t want them!”