Eye’ll Fix It—a Schooltime Story for Children
~From the Children's Short Story Book: Cinderella Sarah (for 5-9 year olds) by Karen Cossey. Get your copy for free here, plus another free book for 9-12 year olds.~
Jimmy jumped off his bike, frustrated. The stupid chain had come off one more time. He bent down and set it back on the gear wheel. Dad had said he’d fix it properly, but he never got round to it. Maybe Mr Simons, the school caretaker, could repair it. Jimmy turned and headed in the opposite direction from home.
Mr Simons lived ten minutes bike ride from Jimmy’s home. His driveway wound its way down from the entrance around bushes and trees to an old, rundown house. Mr Simons lived alone and was often mending stuff, though most things at his own place were only half fixed. He was constantly getting distracted helping his neighbors and friends.
There were some who didn’t like Mr Simons. They felt his house was spooky, and they said you should avoid talking to him. Mostly dumb kids from school who wanted to scare the kindergarten kids with awful stories of Mr Simons. The last story was too much, Jimmy thought—he wondered if he should tell the principal. Greg had been telling the juniors that Mr Simons captured children and cooked them on pizza.
Jimmy struggled up the hill to Mr Simons’ mailbox, then whizzed down his driveway, swerving to avoid the potholes. Monday was Mr Simons’ day off, and as normal, he was sitting outside on his front porch, fixing something—a lawnmower.
“Hi Mr Simons,” Jimmy called out, screeching to a halt. “How’s it going?”
“Good thanks, Jimmy. What are you up to?”
“My chain keeps coming off. Could you please take a look at it?”
“Sure thing, Jimmy. It probably only needs a minor adjustment. Perhaps you could do me a favor too?” he asked, “I hear you’re talented at drama.”
The next day, Greg, the storyteller, was out on the field playing soccer with his buddies at lunchtime. Jimmy waited until Greg’s team scored a goal, then he staggered out from behind a nearby tree and limped over to them, moaning and groaning, covering his eye with his hand.
“What’s up with you, Jimmy?” Greg shouted.
“My eye, my eye… I remember walking by Mr Simons’ shed, then something hit me on my head. When I came to, my eye had this patch on it. It feels real sore. We should go make sure Mr Simons is okay—will you guys come help me?”
“Don’t worry,” Greg said, picking up a stick, “I’ll whack any troublemakers with this.” He took off with the rest of his mates following.
Jimmy thought they made such a noise, no troublemaker would ever hang around, but he didn’t say a word. They’d all gone past Mr Simons’ shed window, when Jimmy stopped and called them back.
“Greg, Greg,” he said in a horrified voice. “Check this out!”
They peeked in Mr Simons’ window and what they saw sent shivers down their spines.
Mr Simons was holding up an eyeball—or something like an eyeball! He placed it on a board and started to chop it. He then put slices of it on top of… a pizza!
“That’s my eye!” Jimmy said. “I feel sick.”
Greg looked like he didn’t know whether to scream or run.
Mr Simons stepped out of the shed just then and said to the boys in a sinister tone, “Ah-ha, exactly what I need—another eyeball! Come here, Greg Jenkins!”
Greg’s mouth opened wide and his shoulders shook.
Mr Lewis, the principal, appeared from behind the shed door. “It’s Greg, the rumourmonger, I see.” His arms were folded, and a deep frown covered his forehead.
Relief flooded Greg’s face.
“You ought to be careful what you suggest in your tales, Greg. You might give people bad ideas.” Mr Simons smiled.
Greg laughed but Mr Lewis interrupted him with a curt, “It isn’t funny.”
“Aw, it’s all right,” Mr Simons said. “I’m sure he’s learned his lesson.”
“Well, I’ll have a talk with you after school this afternoon, Greg. But for now, you owe Mr Simons an apology.”
Greg guiltily murmured, “I’m sorry for spreading rumours.”
Mr Simons was quick to respond with a hearty, “Forget about it. Why don’t you all come in for pizza? No eyeballs, honest.”
That was a treat. They laughed and joked and enjoyed pizza until the bell rung. As Greg left, Jimmy heard him saying, “I’m really sorry for making up stories about you Mr Simons. Er, do you think you could help me repair my skateboard sometime?”
“No problems Greg, you bring it in tomorrow, and I’ll fix it for you.”
Story by Karen Cossey
Copyright © Karen Cossey, 2014
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