Isaiah was a small African American eight-year-old boy with wide-set eyes and a bulbous head shaped somewhat like a light bulb. He looked a bit like a miniature version of NBA player Sam Cassell. As well, one of his upper front teeth was missing, giving him a cute smile and a tenacious frown.
Isaiah was also born a crack baby and now couldn't sit still to save his life. He perpetually shifted, wriggled, got up, jumped, jiggled, readjusted, wandered off, spaced out, got sidetracked, impulsively spoke out of turn—whatever ... except sit still.
One morning, Isaiah awoke early and approached a coworker, an obese Anglophile man named Calvin Humperdink who never seemed to wear a shirt that would fully cover his rotund, pearly white, baby smooth belly.
"Mr. Calvin, can you throw this away for me?" Isaiah asked.
"What is it?" Calvin asked, looking down at the minute object in Isaiah's hand.
"It's my tooth," he said, holding up the white chunk of calcium and separating his lips to display his teeth. Isaiah had lost the other of his two upper front teeth. "I've had it under my pillow for the past two nights, but the damn tooth fairy never came. So now I just want to throw it away."
"Oh, Isaiah, I'm sorry. I guess no one let the tooth fairy know you had lost a tooth. Why don't you put it under your pillow one more time tonight, and I'll be sure to tell the tooth fairy to come visit you."
"Okay," Isaiah responded in a sad, little voice, and moped back to his room.
And that night, thanks to the grace of Humperdink, the tooth fairy indeed finally paid a visit to little Isaiah.
********
© 2008 David Lee Cummings
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
I can remember many times telling kids "oops, I guess nobody called the tooth fairy hotline. I'll make sure to do that tonight."
Happened all the time. Damn forgetful tooth fairy. Shame on him/her.
Hey, we can't pass the info on to the tooth fairy if we don't know.
Post a Comment