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Bad Influence
It was August. A beautiful, lazy summer day. A slight breeze and the perfect temperature to comfortably lounge around outside in the sun. It was only a matter of time before something went wrong.
I was at my friend Lacie’s house out in Caledonia. We were laying on the basketball court, surrounded by cornfields as far as the eye could see. I was positioned so I was watching the leaves of the willow tree flutter over her rustic red barn at the end of her driveway. Being the caring woman that she is, her mom came strolling out of the yellow brick farmhouse carrying a tray of lemonade, with their pug named Norm following at her feet. As Lacie and I relaxed, sipping our lemonades, we wondered what we should do. Two 11 year old girls, out in the country, drinking lemonade. What could possibly have gone wrong? That’s where me and my (unfortunately) creative mind came into play.
I don’t remember why I thought this would go well, or how Lacie agreed to do it, because she is just about the sweetest person I have ever met. Neither of us ever caused any trouble, so considering what we did on this day might come as a shock to you.
We filled up all the water balloons we could find (luckily it was only about 7 left overs we found in her shed), and took a bucket full of them over to the side of Patterson Ave, a street just a little ways in front of her house. Next to the road was a small ditch, with several pine trees in a line. There was still enough room that you could see past them, so we sat and waited, each with a water balloon in our right hand. I could hear the few cars zoom by at 55 mph, but since we were nearly in the middle of nowhere, one car passed about every 5 minutes. You could hear the rumbling of the engine a ways down the street before the car passed Lacie’s yard. As one car began to approach, I stepped out from behind the pine tree, and when I thought the timing was right, I pitched that water balloon with all that I had at the car. Near miss. The car passed as the balloon went flying behind it into the corn field across the street. I jogged back down the hill to the ditch where Lacie was waiting with the rest of the balloons, feeling both half disappointed and half exhilarated.
We took turns, throwing and missing, only to return to grab another balloon and try again. Before we knew it, there was only one water balloon left floating in the bucket of water, and the closest we had come to hitting a car was when Lace hit the bumper of a grey pick up truck as it passed by, the throw not even strong enough for the driver to notice. I picked up the last balloon, cradling it as if it were a newborn child. I carried it up to the side of the road and waited, looking down the road and staring into the distance, waiting for my next victim. Finally, over the hill, I saw a red four door vehicle. I can’t tell you the make or model or anything like that; it was the least of my worries at this point. However, it was a cross between a van and a small car. As it grew nearer, I bent my knees and held the balloon in the air behind my head, ready to launch it into the road. This was our last chance, and I knew I had to get it right. Of course neither Lacie or I had taken the time to think of the consequences if we actually did hit a car. So, there I stood, watching the car draw closer and closer, while my legs and arm started to quiver in excitement. The car was about ten feet down the road from where I was standing, hoping the time the balloon reached the center-line of the road matched the time the car was in front of me. I hurled that water balloon as hard as I could. SPLAT. Right across the front windshield of that poor car.
My eyes widened and I gasped with a huge smile on my face, feeling that I had accomplished something extraordinary. However, the car slammed on its brakes. It didn’t take me more than a second to turn to see Lacie with a petrified look on her face, and we took off. Sprinting past the house, past the barn, and past the basketball court with our tray of glasses half full of lemonade. Don’t ask me where we were going, because we could have easily ran into the house, but we just thought to get as far away from the road and that car as possible. I glanced over my shoulder laughing (I think I was nervous and shocked at the same time, and didn’t know what else to do), only to see an old man running after us. Not a cute old man either. He was probably about 65, tall, with a skinny body all besides his belly. He had thin white hair, clear to see that he was balding. His eyes were wide and his unwrinkled face looked enraged. I think that was when I realized that we had done something seriously wrong. He yelled; I can’t tell you what he said, because all I could hear was my heavy breathing and heart pounding. I looked at Lacie; we both halted. Turning to the old man, a slight grin was still plastered across my face (I know that was just about as stupid as throwing the balloon in the first place, but don’t ask why I was smiling because I couldn’t tell you that, and I was terrified on the inside).
“Oh, so you think this is funny?” the man questioned.
“No,” I replied immediately, finally getting rid of that idiotic smile of mine, but feeling the heat rush to my face. “We didn’t think we would hit any cars.”
“Then what the hell are you doing chucking balloons out into the middle of the street.” He demanded, accusing us of exactly what we were doing (this was literally what he said, because if you know me at all you would be well aware that I would never use a swear word).
“I don’t know..” Lacie replied shyly.
“I swear to god, if there is anything wrong with my car, I will hang you both.”
Yes, this man basically threatened to kill us if you take it literally. Now, who knows if this man actually meant what he said, or if he was just frustrated and angry in the moment, but let’s just say it shook Lace and I quite a bit. And in my opinion, even if he would have totaled his car due to a water balloon, I still don’t think he has the right to threaten to hang two fifth grade girls.
Lacie’s mom came outside and talked to the man about everything that happened. She sent us inside while he continued to argue with her. After calming him down a little bit, she wrote him a check for twenty-five dollars, because he claimed there was some damage done to his wind-shield wipers. Even if Lacie’s mom disagreed with him, I don’t think she would feel it necessary to point that out.
Shaking, we watched from the window as he drove away, and once the man was gone, Lacie’s mom trudged up the stairs to talk to us. She wasn’t angry; in fact, I think she felt bad for us. Especially when we told her what the man had said. We all agreed that even though our decision to throw water balloons at cars wasn’t the smartest, that man was a little off. She made Lacie pay her half of the 25 dollars, but didn’t punish her anymore because by the way both of us were acting, she could tell we had already learned our lesson. It was left up to me whether or not I could tell my parents, and when I returned home I just decided to leave out the detail of the encounter with the old man.
It only takes one second to make a bad decision. And it could take days, months, or years to come back from it. Although my mistake wasn’t as drastic as it could have been, I believe that this incident has lead me to become more careful, and think through the consequences before I do something. Oddly enough, I haven’t done anything like it since. Long story short, never throw water balloons at passing cars, especially when you have nowhere to run besides a bare corn field.
By the way, I read this to both of my parents, and (after four years) I will now be sending Lacie and her mother a printed copy of my story and a ten dollar bill to go with it.
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This piece is about a time when I was a bad influence over one of my friends. We were only 11 years old, and I haven't done anything like it since.