The Craola Caper
THE CRAYOLA CAPER.
by
Clem Mason
(age-6-10)
(wc-830)
Hi, my name is Jasmine. I want to tell you a true story about what happened to me. Momma always reads to me in the car before she goes in to work. She says it makes her feel better. She’s real proud because she only learned to read a few years ago when she was pregnant with me. I’m eight now so she learns to read eight years ago. I don’t mind waiting in the car while she works. We can’t afford a babysitter. Besides, I’m not a baby. I’m very mature for a girl my age. Be sure to lock the door she always says. Anyway, she comes to check on me often. Her boss man understands but he don’t want me waiting in the grocery store. I might be in the way. That’s okay with me.
I love momma and I’m afraid those welfare people will come and try to take me away from her. They come snooping around, sticking their nose in our business. I hate them all. Momma says I shouldn’t hate them so I don’t like them, big time.
I usually read to myself. But mostly I color on the brown paper momma brings out from the store. They have lots of it from the produce…part. Section! The produce section.
Last week, I’m sitting in the car when I hear this noise. When I look up, this junker of a car pulls up just in front of our car and stops. I notice the driver looks at me when they drive by. He is an ugly white man with long, stringy hair. It looks real dirty to me.
Two white men get out to go in the store. They keep looking around. Just before they go in, they pull sky masks over their face and run in. Sky Masks in Shreveport?
So, I draw a picture of the old, smokey station wagon; it’s dark blue and rusting out. The license plate is hard to read but I look until I get it right. I also draw the ugly white man with the long, stringy hair.
While he’s waiting, he gets out of the car and looks around too and his eyes keeps coming back to look at me. When he starts walking over, I make sure the doors are locked. I can’t look away from him and I’m getting real scared because he’s walking right to our car. I wish momma was here. He come up and looks in the window as he pulls on the door handle. He has cold, blue eyes and they are bloodshot, big time. He has a barb wire tatoo around his neck.
He pulled the handle again and tells me to unlock the door. I’m not about to do that.
Just about that time, the other two white men runs out of the store, yelling and cursing. The ugly man runs and they all jump in the car and speed away. I have never been so scared in all my life.
Then momma comes out and we hug and cry a lot. I told her I didn’t want her to go back in. I didn’t want to be left alone no more. It made her feel real bad. Then I know she must go so I tell her to go back to her work. We can’t afford not to work.
It wasn’t long before the police come and this black officer about momma’s age come looking around and talking to people. When he sees us, sitting back there in our car. He comes over and taps on the window. He apologized to momma but wants to know if we seen anything during the robbery. I hand him the picture I drew and he looks at it a long time. Then a smile comes to his face and he tells me I did good. It made me feel real good.
He comes back later to get our name and address and all that stuff cops think they need to know about everybody elses business.
As it turns out, my picture was a real big help to them because they trace the tags and go right to the house where the ugly white man with the barb wire tattoo lives. They find the guns, sky masks and all the money too. I have to pick them out in a line up down at the police station. I will never forget that ugly face as long as I live.
Momma is still working at the store and I’m still waiting for her to get off work. The nice thing is, now the young black policeman comes around all the time to visit with momma and me. Mica is his name. I think he likes momma some because why else would he do that? No, he isn’t married but I’m hoping.
The end.
if you liked this story and you feel the poor, old author deserves compensation in his retirement for this creation, please feel free to send $1.00 to Clem Mason, c/o Backwater Publishing. 660-210213.
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Thank you verey much and may God bless you.