Spring came soon enough, along with the spring dares. It was the time when cold and warm decided to share the day. The warm sun created ponds from the snow during the day, and the cold of the night froze the surfaces by morning. A classic dare was to see if you could cross the ice without falling through. It was always best to include a heavier person in the group to increase the probability of "fun."
The Morons gathered at the southern end of the schoolyard one spring morning. Ice had formed over the pond, which had overflowed the ditch beside the road and spilled over the small ball diamond at the corner of the yard.
The dares began to see who could cross the ice without falling in. The promise of a revel was soon at stake. "It's not a good dare," Two-Ton complained. "If a guy crosses the pond, nothing happens. Nobody gets to laugh, and the guy receives a reward of a revel. A better dare is if the guy who falls into the drink gets rewarded. Nobody wants to fall through the ice, so reward the guy who provides the laughs."
The rest of the Morons agreed. "But," insisted Blondie, "the guy who breaks through the ice has to complete the crossing. He can't turn back and claim the prize." Without saying a word, the crowd determined Two-Ton to be the last one to cross after the rest had weakened the ice.
Honey went first. He crossed the ice as quickly and lightly as possible. The surface heaved and crackled under his weight. Relieved, he made it to the safety of the road.
Others went, making sure each had a different starting point to ensure they had weakened every stretch of ice. Poobah chose the western end of the pond near the row of trees. Trying to tread lightly, Poobah traversed quickly over the ice, so his foot wasn't on the surface at any one spot long enough for it to break. Still, he could see the water bubble up on the ice where the ice met the tree trunks. Hearing the ice crackle, encouraged Poobah to move even more quickly until he reached the frozen mud at the other side to a chorus of cheers. Everyone arrived at the road.
Two-Ton was the last to go. His friends had thoroughly weakened the ice from one end to the other. He was also the heaviest of the group. "Come on, Two-Ton. We dare you to cross." Two-Ton was reluctant. He didn't want to sit through classes all day, wet and cold. But this would still be a better option than running home with his pants forming frozen tubes around his legs. Two-Ton shivered, thinking of it. "Come on, Moron," taunted the crew from the other side.
Against his better judgment, Two-Ton tentatively took his first step, then his second. The ice seemed stable enough. His third step broke through the frozen pond, and Two-Ton sank to his ankle. The ice-cold water seeped into his shoe, numbing his foot. It made no sense turning back. He might as well amuse the masses and collect the revel. As each step shattered the ice, the deeper water crept up his pant legs. The crowd roared. As Two-Ton neared the ditch, the drop was greater then he anticipated. As he stumbled, the ice-water filled his pants to his waist. Fiedelbaum reached out and helped him make the last couple of steps up to the road. Two-Ton thought of pulling him into the water to join him, but Fiedelbaum was only trying to help. The bank was slippery, and he could be worse off without Fiedelbaum's help than he was now.
Mary stopped by the pond to see what the fuss was. She saw Two-Ton in water above his knees, and could only shake her head. "I guess it's what morons do," she said to herself.
YOU ARE READING
The Morons' Club
Historical FictionSixteen year-old Jefferson is a loner who plays video games all the time. His mother finally persuades him to vacation with her at Iroquois Lake. During that time, he sneaks out to a musty outhouse to play his video games. A tornado comes and Jeffer...
