Just a Story

As I chauffeured a friend of mine the other day, we got to telling stories about ourselves, and particularly a couple that we found humorous. I won't share his here for, as C. S. Lewis says with the voice of Aslan, it's his story to tell. But here is mine: a snapshot story from my elementary school days. I don't remember what came before it, nor what after it. It shines with the intense flicker of a memorial shooting star.

One day during fourth or fifth grade I discovered that I couldn't find my pencil.

I was intensely introverted as a kid; I often became so absorbed in whatever my mind worked on that it didn't matter what was happening around me. Sometimes it didn't even matter what my body was doing. I would get lost in my inner world. On this day my inner world required me to write or draw something, and I couldn't find my pencil.

But I knew I had one. I had just used it a few minutes ago. I looked across the pale faux-wood finish of my elementary desk, around the floor, and under my chair. Nothing. In a fit of frustration I turned to the neighboring student and asked him if he had seen my pencil.

Or at least I tried to ask. As soon as I began to talk, he gave me a look as if I were speaking an alien tongue. At the same moment, instead of my intended, "Have you seen my pencil?" I heard myself say, "Haboo feen mah benfil?"

I had been holding the pencil in my mouth the whole time.

In extreme embarrassment I sucked the drool off the pencil and returned to my inner world.

Yes, my friend and I had a good laugh about that in the car this week.

~emrys