Part II: The Stapler Thief
“Son! Have you seen my stapler?”
Roger looks all over their cabin-style home for his favorite stapler. He has a project he’s working on and one of the key tools to use is his heavy-duty stapler. Their home is quiet — only the hum or the a.c. unit can be heard. Dena and Celia are both out doing the weekly shopping, so he and Tyson are manning the fort.
“Son! The stapler, have you seen it?!”
Tyson is fiddling with a few knick-knacks for his train set — careful not to misplace anything. Since he found out the magical toy comes to life when no adults are around, he is adamant about being discreet. He is mindful of how he explains what he’s doing and why. The last thing he needs is for his parents or sister to begin snooping around his “secret place.” He barely hears his father as he enters the family room.
“Shh! I think I hear my dad coming.” He warns Tyson#2 as he risks his existence to listen carefully for Roger.
“Son. Hey, Tyson, buddy. Did you hear me? Have you seen my stapler? I am working on a project for your mom and I need it.”
“No, sir. I haven’t seen it. I thought Celia had it last, but then again, Mom likes that stapler too.”
“Oh, God. If your mom had her hands on it, there’s no telling where it is by now. I’ll just wait until they come back from the store and I’ll ask her about it. How’s the train set?”
Tyson watches his dad’s eyebrows arch in a peaked position — eager to hear his report about his grandpa’s gift. The old man did a little two-step when he heard the whistle blow last night. Tyson was going to have to keep his eyes on him.
“It’s great! It’s the perfect gift! I’m nearly done setting up the village.”
Roger tousles his son’s hair, turns on his heels, and walks briskly down the hall to the kitchen. Tyson checks on Tyson#2 and finds him standing by the window.
“Hey, there. What are you doing?”
“That thing your dad’s, (well, our dad) looking for. Is it big, pink & white, and has a floppy, sharp edge?”
“Yes! It’s his favorite stapler! Why?! Have you seen it?”
Tiny Tyson has a look of guilt plastered on his face. He tries to find the right words to explain to Tyson the whereabouts of the stapler.
“Well, yeah . . . kinda. Johnny Boots, Tommy Townes, Mikey Loops, and me — we dragged it out back, made ourselves a diving board for the pool. It’s so hot out. We were going to put it back later, didn’t think anyone would miss it.”
“A diving board? You guys could’ve gotten hurt. Do you even know what a stapler does?”
“Well, it’s a pretty good diving board right now.”
Tyson waves Tiny Tyson off with the flick of his hand. He leans his head over the roof of their tiny home, looks to his right, and locates the stapler.
“I’m putting this back where it belongs. This isn’t a toy.”
“You sound like one of the grownups.”
“Well. Well . . . Someone needs to be a grownup in this here village. You can’t go stealing things or taking them without asking. You’ll get me into big trouble if you do.”
“Okay, calm down. I didn’t know it would stir up such a fuss. I’ll be more careful.”
Tyson runs as quickly as he can to his dad’s tool shed. He finds his toolbox, lifts it quietly, and places the stapler in the upper compartment. Roger circles back around for one more check.
“Buddy, I can’t believe this. I’ve looked everywhere. Are you sure you haven’t seen my stapler?”
“I’m sure, Dad. Have you checked your toolbox?”
“I did! That’s the first place I looked. I’ll go and give it another look-see, though. Couldn’t harm things at all.”
Roger shuffles off to his tool shed, picks up his toolbox, and breathes out a sigh of relief. His stapler sat perfectly placed in the upper compartment.
“Found it!” He yells to his son excitedly.
Tyson looks at Tiny Tyson, stifles a giggle, and signals him to be quiet.
“Shh, that’ll be our little secret.”
And it was.
Creative content straight from the mind of an innovator trying to shift the world with her writing.