Police Blotter: The MailBox Gang
so i'm a bit behind the eight-ball on this one - this is a scratch fiction tag from monkey0 :
• A Meadowlawn Road, woman reported that her mailbox
was attached to her house when she left in the morning,
but was gone when she returned.
• A complainant said someone burned his mailbox, which
is across the street from his Indian Church Road residence.
• During the overnight hours, someone stole mailboxes
from the front of homes on Pacecrest Court and
Waltercrest Terrace and destroyed a plastic mailbox at
another Pacecrest address. Pieces of the mailbox were
found in the driveway.
• Someone placed a number of small firecrackers inside a
Fawn Trail mailbox, charring the inside when they exploded.
• An Old Post Road, Lancaster, man reported that after
hearing a loud noise outside his residence, he looked out
the window to see a vehicle driving away with his mailbox
and post in the trunk.
• A Kraus Road resident reported unknown person
damaged the homeowner’s mailbox.
From where he stood, Toby could still see the rest of them on their bikes - barely within sight but not out of reach. Eagerly, he peddled as fast as his little legs would go, leaning forward and rising from the bike seat as he did. His stomach turned a bit and he almost cut the brakes when he got to the top of the hill on Old Post Road, but big boys don't wear helmets, big boys ride hard and fast, and big boys are never, ever scared. So down he went.
He'd ditched the helmet under a bush not far from his house so that he could grab it on the way home. He'd tried to tell mom that he was a big boy now, but she never understood. Toby figured this was because she had never been a big boy, she was a big girl after all. Now, leaning far over the handlebars as he'd seen the bigger boys do, he coasted down the hill and almost wished he'd kept the helmet. But he was a big boy, wasn't he? And there was no way that a big boy like him was going let the others see him looking like just a kid, was he? Especially not Trevor. No, not him.
Trevor was the leader. He wasn't the oldest or the biggest or really, the meanest or the smartest - but he was the leaderest. And that was enough. If Trevor said he was in, he was in. If Trevor was impressed with the fireworks over on Fawn Trail, they'd all be. If Trevor said he needed a black eye, then he'd get a black eye. That was just it. The others just listened to him. Toby listened to him.
When he got to the bottom of the Old Post hill, a stupid scaredy cat streaked out in front of his bike, surprising him. The handlebars seemed to jump right out of his fingers, throwing his shoulders back. While he fought to keep his balance, using his legs and the pedals to keep the bike up, he didn’t pay attention to where it was going.
It skidded up onto the sidewalk, dipped down a corner crosswalk, then up the other side and into the air. When Toby felt the wheels leave the ground he panicked, forgot all the boys and their bikes on the next block, forgot about Trevor, forgot he was a big boy and screamed.
.........
"Dude, I think I just saw his eyes flutter."
His leg hurt.
"You sure?"
His head, did not. That was weird.
"Yeah yeah, look he's movin"
Why was that weird? Oh right.
"Toby? You alright?"
A clear image of his green helmet sitting under the evergreen bush came to his mind. It was so clear that he could even smell the Christmas scent of the needles.
"Get back! Give him some room to breathe, people."
He knew that voice. Who was that? Trevor? That was definitely him. Immediately, Toby's eyes shot open and he tried to sit up, but a hand restrained him. "Woah, don't worry dude. Relax."
A tawny-haired boy with green eyes swam into focus before him. He had said to relax, so Toby relaxed. "Yeah, that's right. You're alright Toby. You're in. Forget about the fireworks - nothing but beginner's bad luck. But oh man you should have seen that old Mrs. Crabby Kraus' face when she came out to see her mailbox destroyed. It was priceless. You'll be in the history books for that little stunt."
• A Meadowlawn Road, woman reported that her mailbox
was attached to her house when she left in the morning,
but was gone when she returned.
• A complainant said someone burned his mailbox, which
is across the street from his Indian Church Road residence.
• During the overnight hours, someone stole mailboxes
from the front of homes on Pacecrest Court and
Waltercrest Terrace and destroyed a plastic mailbox at
another Pacecrest address. Pieces of the mailbox were
found in the driveway.
• Someone placed a number of small firecrackers inside a
Fawn Trail mailbox, charring the inside when they exploded.
• An Old Post Road, Lancaster, man reported that after
hearing a loud noise outside his residence, he looked out
the window to see a vehicle driving away with his mailbox
and post in the trunk.
• A Kraus Road resident reported unknown person
damaged the homeowner’s mailbox.
From where he stood, Toby could still see the rest of them on their bikes - barely within sight but not out of reach. Eagerly, he peddled as fast as his little legs would go, leaning forward and rising from the bike seat as he did. His stomach turned a bit and he almost cut the brakes when he got to the top of the hill on Old Post Road, but big boys don't wear helmets, big boys ride hard and fast, and big boys are never, ever scared. So down he went.
He'd ditched the helmet under a bush not far from his house so that he could grab it on the way home. He'd tried to tell mom that he was a big boy now, but she never understood. Toby figured this was because she had never been a big boy, she was a big girl after all. Now, leaning far over the handlebars as he'd seen the bigger boys do, he coasted down the hill and almost wished he'd kept the helmet. But he was a big boy, wasn't he? And there was no way that a big boy like him was going let the others see him looking like just a kid, was he? Especially not Trevor. No, not him.
Trevor was the leader. He wasn't the oldest or the biggest or really, the meanest or the smartest - but he was the leaderest. And that was enough. If Trevor said he was in, he was in. If Trevor was impressed with the fireworks over on Fawn Trail, they'd all be. If Trevor said he needed a black eye, then he'd get a black eye. That was just it. The others just listened to him. Toby listened to him.
When he got to the bottom of the Old Post hill, a stupid scaredy cat streaked out in front of his bike, surprising him. The handlebars seemed to jump right out of his fingers, throwing his shoulders back. While he fought to keep his balance, using his legs and the pedals to keep the bike up, he didn’t pay attention to where it was going.
It skidded up onto the sidewalk, dipped down a corner crosswalk, then up the other side and into the air. When Toby felt the wheels leave the ground he panicked, forgot all the boys and their bikes on the next block, forgot about Trevor, forgot he was a big boy and screamed.
.........
"Dude, I think I just saw his eyes flutter."
His leg hurt.
"You sure?"
His head, did not. That was weird.
"Yeah yeah, look he's movin"
Why was that weird? Oh right.
"Toby? You alright?"
A clear image of his green helmet sitting under the evergreen bush came to his mind. It was so clear that he could even smell the Christmas scent of the needles.
"Get back! Give him some room to breathe, people."
He knew that voice. Who was that? Trevor? That was definitely him. Immediately, Toby's eyes shot open and he tried to sit up, but a hand restrained him. "Woah, don't worry dude. Relax."
A tawny-haired boy with green eyes swam into focus before him. He had said to relax, so Toby relaxed. "Yeah, that's right. You're alright Toby. You're in. Forget about the fireworks - nothing but beginner's bad luck. But oh man you should have seen that old Mrs. Crabby Kraus' face when she came out to see her mailbox destroyed. It was priceless. You'll be in the history books for that little stunt."