03-06-2021, 02:00 PM
There was a little old man who lived next door to me when I was around five years old. All I really remember about him was he always wore suspenders and walked with a cane, and he had a parrot named Beachball, which was a huge attraction for the kids of the neighborhood. He kept his doors open, and kids could just come and go freely. One day I was there alone, and that was unusual, and I remarked to him how much I liked Beachball. This seemed to tickle him, and he got up, left the living room and disappeared into the kitchen. I heard him in there moving items round, closing and opening cupboards, so forth. Eventually he called me into the kitchen. I walked in and there on the kitchen table was an array of toys, candies and a large container of ice cream. He said "this is for you, son." I was overwhelmed. I didn't know what to say. It seemed impossible. Just then a cute little girl walked in and said "hi" and asked if she could play with Beachball. The old man indicated to me that it was time for me to leave, and that he was now giving all of the items to the girl. This was beyond devastating, so I started crying, which irritated him. He grabbed my arm and led me out of the apartment and closed the door behind me. In an act of defiance I climbed to the very top of the tree outside his home, where I planned to stay for the rest of my life. Once I realized I was trapped up there, I doubled down on the crying and a fireman had to climb up and rescue me.
