The Trophy

PART II

The trio of boys were enamored by this archaic idol. It wasn't glittery or inherently shiny but an indescribable pull had entangled on their young minds. Something almost seductive about it called to them. It desired them.

"How much do you think it costs? Like if we pawn it?" asked Abraham. His asthma was whistling under his breath with tepid curiosity. 

"Sell it?! We're not selling this! It's mine, I found it," retaliated Ben. With his small spindly fingers, he snatched the trophy back from Connor. Abe rolled his lips in and tapped his temple, eager to start a heated debate. It would be better to split the bounty three ways and spend their summer with some cash than to hang onto a creepy antique... right? Abe hesitated in his confidence, and stuttered before speaking again. 

"Wh-What's so great about keeping it though," Abraham asked. Ben squinted his eyes into a glare and adjusted his glasses, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly in annoyance. 

"I want to keep it! It's... um..." Ben paused and exchanged looks with Connor before continuing. They shared an expression of understanding that Abe quickly scowled at.  

Connor pursed his lips and tilted his head back and forth before responding, "Let's play a game for it. If Ben wins, he keeps it, if you win we sell it. Deal?"

"Well what happens if you win?" Abe questioned.

"Then I keep it," Connor speedily rebutted, "I want it too."

The three eyed each other quietly, all individually weighing their odds. The silence was momentary but the tension it created was viscous. 

"Alright," Abraham said, finally cutting the taut stillness, "What are we playing?"

Ben pushes his mouth side to side and tapped his foot in contemplation, "A race?"

"Or maybe a sit-up contest?" Abe quickly jut in.

The two boys look over at Connor who's rubbing his own chin amidst his brainstorming. Connor looks at the two and raises an eyebrow, only to look down at his arms and bulbous belly in immediate understanding, "Oh."

"We should do something fun at least," squeaked Ben. 

Abe and Connor nod in agreement but were equally as lost for an answer.

"I was thinking," began Abe lightly, still not confident in his answer, "B-baseball? If you're not good at running you just have to be good at throwing?" Abraham honestly didn't know how baseball worked. Truthfully none of the three dorky children did. 

"Don't they have bases, bats, and balls? Or something?" winced Connor, scratching his bush-like hair. 

"Maybe? Probably?" Abe said, elongating his words inelegantly.

Ben was getting impatient, his toes were tapping restlessly in his shoe and his bug eyes darting around the forest for inspiration.  "Argh! Okay, fine! Baseball we're doing baseball! I'm not sure how we actually play but here," He began pulling miscellaneous objects from his cargo short pockets. 

"We need for bases right? So..." Ben yanked out some trash and darted to a corner of the clearing, dragging his foot behind for a dirt trail. He pulled out a handful of snotty tissues and placed them gently on a a mound, and continued on in a diagonal line to where the second base would likely be.  Gently pulling a folded, empty potato chip bag from his pocket, Ben unfolded the item and looked inside optimistically. 

"Why are you carrying around an empty potato chip bag?" scoffed Connor.  

Ben ignored his comment and proceeded to hold open the crinkly bag above his face, raining microscopic crumbs to his gaping mouth.  There really wasn't much in there. And with a face now dusted in cheese powder, Ben shoved the bag into the dirt; creating a sort of mound with a shiny logo of Epic's BIG Ol' Cheese Puffs glistening on top.