Springville

by Abe Etkin, 10

Written during Story Writing For Kids, taught by Darin Strauss

March 2005

In the happy town of Springville there lived a small spring named Tom. Now I must tell you that every spring in Springville looks exactly alike except every spring has a different shape at the bottom of his or her spring. But we must get back to the story at hand.

Tom was actually walking down the most famous street in Springville called Spring St. Now there is another thing I must tell you about Springville and that is that the ground is made out of damp sand. So when a spring bounces on the sand it leaves its shape in its wake. This is how other springs know what is on the bottom of that spring’s spring. Tom has the shape of George Washington’s profile. And wherever he goes, half of George goes with him.

The Springville Olympics was coming up in four days and I don’t think I have to tell you why the high jump was Springville’s favorite event. People also went to see the long jump but practically no one went to see the swimming or the running. If you ask me I don’t even think the springs of Springville should even have a swimming or a running event.

Tom has a hero name Hank Steele who holds the all-time Springville record for the high jump event. Hank has a kangaroo shape on the bottom of his spring which inspired him to take on the high jump.

When Tom got home his mother told him that the radio had said they were sending out one ticket in the mail into all of Springville and that the person who got the ticket would have a four-hour lesson on high jumping with Hank Steele, from 11:15 to 3:15!!!! He just had to get that ticket.

The next few days Tom checked his mailbox almost every hour. The next day when Tom was walking down the block he felt so desperate to get that ticket he was practically twitching. He was walking by his snobby, rich and spoiled worst enemy from school Brian Stanton, who has a snobby prince at the bottom of his spring. I hope that I don’t have to tell you why he has a snobby prince after saying that he was snobby and rich himself, so I won’t. Then he thought of a mean idea. Just what if Brian got the ticket? Tom would steal it and pretend he found it in his own mailbox.

So Tom quietly boinged up Brian’s stoop. He knew the chances were one in a million that it would be there. He went up the steps and stuck his hands in the mail box. He pulled out the first thing he felt… a tax letter. Why was he not surprised. He pulled out three more tax letters and then just a plain old letter from a relative or something like that. Then he found one more thing at the bottom of the mailbox… It had no name, no address and no return address. Just a yellow envelope. But when he looked on the back he saw a drawing of what looked like a kangaroo! But not drawn very well at all. He knew what it meant at once.

Tom sprang home but still trying not to look too excited. He dashed up to his room and locked the door. He was about to tear it open when a thought struck him. The letter couldn’t magically appear in his room. It would It would have to come from his mailbox. So he put the letter in his pocket and casually walked downstairs and slipped his hand into his mailbox and dropped the ticket or what he thought was a ticket in the mailbox.

He waited excitedly the whole night. He couldn’t sleep. But in what felt like days hi finally dozed off. He woke up to his mother shaking him out of bed. Then he remembered the ticket and wondered if he should get it now or after he came home from school. He thought it over and decided he couldn’t wait and wanted to get it now. After he had quickly got dressed, had breakfast and brushed his teeth, he walked out the door to go to school – and with excitement all over him he stuck his hand into his mailbox and pulled out the same yellow envelope with a badly drawn kangaroo on it. He ran back into his house screaming “I GOT THE TICKET!! I GOT THE TICKET!!” He was yelling so loud it gave his mom a huge fright. She almost jumped up on the table. “I GOT THE TICKET!!” Tom yelled again.

“You what??” as asked his mom.

“I won the ticket that got sent out into all of Sp[ringville and the spring that got it would have a four-hour lesson with Hank Steel on high jumping!!”

“Stop joking and go to school,” said his mom.

“It’s really true, mom! I got the ticket!”

“Oh fine, I’ll play along. Prove it to me that you got the ticket.”

So Tom pulled it out from behind hgis back and gave it to his mother. She was speechless. Finally she blurted out: “Oh my god!”

“Please can I go, please please please?!?!”

“Oh my god,” his mother said again, looking at the paper.

“Mom, shake it off!” Tom said.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I guess I went a little speechless there for a minute.”

“Yeah you did, but that doesn’t matter right now. What does matter ios if I can go to the lesson with Hank Steel at 11:15 tomorrow. Please!”

“Yes! What do you think, I would say no? You got the ticket, didn’t you?” She sounded almost mad when she said it but then she started beaming at him.

It was hard to sleep that night. Tom kept wondering, what would Hank be like? Will he be nice? Will he be not so nice? Or will he be downright mean? The only time Tom had seen Hank was on TV. Then he finally went to sleep.

That night he had a bad dream where the pole that you have to jump over in the high ump turned into a snake and started slithering down the support pole. Tom ran away and was all by himself. When we woke up, and remembered what he was doing today, he thought of the dream as a bad omen. But still, he was excited. He sprang to his mom’s room and yelled, “I have to go see Hank Steel at 11:15 for the lesson on high jumping!!!”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said his mom.

“How could you forget?!”

“Well, I just woke up.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I just really really don’t want to be late.”

“It’s okay but in the meantime you go get dressed and I’ll start making some breakfast.”

So he went to his room and dressed in what he thought was the most appropriate clothes for this event that he would probably never forget. He pulled on a bright red jersey shirt and yellow spring-shorts (with one leg, of course, since instead of two legs he had one spring).

He sprang downstairs after he was dressed and there were already eggs and bacon on the table. That was really fast, he thought. “Alright! My favorite!” said Tom as he scarfed it down like a pig.

“Boy, were you hungry!” said his mom.

“Yeah,” he said, but without stopping his chewing. He didn’t want anything to slow him down.

On the way from home to the lesson, deep down inside he felt a little spark of guilt in his stomach. But then he thought about how stupid Brian Stanton was and the spark was almost a memory. The 10 minutes it took to drive to the lesson felt like two hours.

The first thing he noticed when he saw Hank was how tall he was when he was still about 14 feet away from him. The second thing he noticed was that Hank talked like a radical snow boarder. “Cool outfit, Dude,” Hank said. Tom was speechless. Then he finally sputtered out, “Th-thanks.” Okay, thought Tom. You’re here now, act like a civilized person!

“Alright then, man, let’s get started!” The field was almost as big as a football field – another sport that wasn’t very famous in Springville. “The field is a cool place, Dude. It’s where all my dreams come true.” Hank’s shirt was bright shimmery blue, with the words “Spring to the Stars” spelled out in gold glitter on his back. His shorts were yellow like Tom’s.

“Let’s get right down to work,” Hank said, “we have a limited amount of time.” The next thing Tom knew, Hank was flying over the pole at tremendous height, performing one of his fanciest tricks: the Kangaroo Twister. He soared into the sky, flipped twice in the air, then did a tail grab on the ear of his kangaroo, before straightening himself and landing with a boing on the ground.

Oh My God! thought Tom. I can’t believe I’m watching this happen in person, all by myself with Hank Steel, the greatest high jumper in Springville! Hank lowered the bar as far as it would go, and asked Tom to show him a simple jump. Tom took a deep breath, gathered all the energy inside him, and jumped. He made it over but he knocked down the pole on the way back down. He thought, Darn it! It was his first time, but he wanted to be perfect for Hank.

“Nice try, little Dude. I like your style.” Hank said with a grin. Tom smiled ear to ear. “Let me show you something else,” said Hank. “This one is called the Rocket. Your body is completely straight and you spiral around. Harder done than said,” Hank told Tom. Hank did lots of tiny springs to get as much speed as possible and when he got near the pole he shot up and turned into a spiraling rocket. But something must have gone wrong in the air. Hank’s spring bottom did not come down first – his head did. He plummeted into the ground and grunted. He lay their limp, looking dead as a belly-up fish.

Tom screamed. He sprang over to Hank, saying, “Hank, Hank, say something, please!” Tom did not see any blood, but Hank was not answering him. Tom sprang off the field at full speed, heading for the gate, hoping to find someone to help. Tom was so relieved to find Bob, Hank’s trainer, there. He blurted out the story. Bob’s face looked scared and angry. They sprang together back to Hank’s side. There was no change. Bob put his hand over Hank’s mouth to see if he was still breathing. He was. Thank god, thought Tom. Bob called an ambulance. For some reason he seemed angry with Tom. “What did you DO to him?” he yelled at Tom.

“Nothing!” Tom said back in surprise.

“Oh yeah, right!” Bob said angrily and sarcastically.

Tom started to cry. Why is he blaming this on ME? I’m just a kid, thought Tom. “We have to help Hank now,” Tom said through his sobs, “not blame people.” Bob didn’t seem to hear. He turned his back on Tom and waited for the ambulance.

Tom stood there panicked, like a mouse cornered by three cats. Was Hank going to be okay? He couldn’t help it, but he was also worried about himself, too. If Bob thought it was his fault, everyone in Springville might think so too.

At home that night, Tom’s mom tried to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault. But Tom just batted her away. She didn’t know anything. It probably was his fault since he stole the ticket. How could he have done something so stupid! Especially him, with George Washington on the bottom of his spring. He felt like he should have the devil down there instead. Tom never felt so miserable in his life. Hours later, Tom’s mom came into his room again. She had called the hospital and found out that Hank had been knocked out, but he came to after a few hours. He had a bad concussion, but there was no permanent damage. And since he landed on his head, his spring wasn’t broken, so he’d be back at the high jump after a week in the hospital. Tom was so relieved. Now he felt like he had never been happier. But he still regretted stealing the ticket.

The next day he went to Hank’s bedside in the hospital. Hank looked kind of pale, but he forced out a smile for Tom. “It wasn’t your fault, kid. I was trying to show off for you, and I wasn’t as careful as I should have been. Here. Take this.” He handed Tom a gold kangaroo chain with the words Spring to the Stars on its chest. Tom thanked him.

On his way back home it was already dark. He made a long detour passed Brian Stanton’s house. He quietly boinged up Brian’s steps and dropped the chain in the mailbox.