The Beach Ball

Now where'd that ball go?

“Ron, I’ll be back in a few. I’m running to the store for a beach ball,” Sarah said.

“Wait. What? What do you need a beach ball for?” asked Ron.

“For an object lesson for Sunday School. They’re only three bucks or so at the dollar store. Won’t be long.”

“No, no, wait. I just saw one the other day on one of my walks. Thought it odd because there ain’t a lot of beaches in Oklahoma, if you know what I mean. I was gonna pick it up, but had no use for it. Today’s Friday. You need it Sunday?”

“You actually saw a beach ball on the road?”

“Yeah, strange isn’t it? Not guaranteeing it’s still there but it’ll save you the trip and the five bucks. I should know by tonight if it’s still there.”

Of course Ron didn’t tell Sarah that he didn’t remember exactly where it was but it was, near a woods and not far off the sidewalk, that he remembered.

When he went for his daily walk the next day, he ran through last week’s walks in his mind. He remembered it being woodsy and near a bridge. There were only three such places like that on his walk. He knew just where to go, just where it was, that is, if it was still there. Even though it was only a plastic beach ball, there was a thrill associated with solving a problem for free, even if he did waste an hour or two trying to locate it.

The walk itself was as unexciting as most of his walks except there was an air of anticipation as he approached the area he was sure the ball was laying. At this time in the morning, however, the street lamp thirty feet away wasn’t shining inside the wooded area where he remembered the ball was.

Without stepping into the wooded area, he slowed his walk and looked around both near and up to 50 feet away. Nothing. No balls but plenty of litter, which he had been meaning to clean up gradually on his walks.

Nothing.

At his halfway point, he turned around and passed the beach ball area again, this time walking slower. There were weeds and branches and trees and leaves and empty plastic water bottles but no beach ball. He was sure it was there, positive he recalled the location in his head.

But nothing.

Devastated, he continued his walk home, still retracing in his mind his walk earlier in the week.

Certainly that’s the right area. Who’d pick up a blown up beach ball? I would. First, they’d have to know it was there and to pick it up…naa, unlikely. Am I losing the few brain cells I have left?

When Ron got through the door, he informed Sarah that his quest to find the beach ball went unfulfilled. The disappointment oozed out of his entire being.

“That’s okay, Hon. I stopped by the dollar store anyhow. Turns out it was on sale for $2.19. Gotta love that.”

No, Ron thought, I don’t gotta love that. I could’ve gotten it for free in the woods had it been there.

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