Little Jimmy's Big Adventure

Little Jimmy finds a magic talking rock, and wondrous things ensue.

Little Jimmy was always such an imaginative and special boy. He loved to go outside and play with trucks and insects and matches and so forth, inventing stories to pass the time. Overall he was a delightful child, and his folks were happy to call him their own.

            One day little Jimmy was wandering around in the forest when he heard a small voice cry out to him.

            “Down here!” it squeaked. “Down here!”

            Jimmy looked down and saw a shimmering, sparkly grey rock sitting on the ground. Amazingly, it was speaking to him!

            “Wow!” Jimmy exclaimed. He bent down to pick it up. He admired it in the sun, full of specks and crystals.

            “Hiya, Jimmy!” the rock greeted with a goofy voice.

            Jimmy, who knew his manners, replied, “Hi, rock!”

            “Oh, I’m not just any rock, Jimmy. I’m a magic talking rock!”

            Jimmy’s eyes lit up with wonder. “Wow!”

            “Wow is right!” it said, barely able to contain its happy, gurgling laughter. “And I’m here to be your friend! You want to play?”

            Jimmy cheered, and his new friend cheered along with him. They spent the day exploring the forest like old pioneers, reading books together, and pulling pranks on Jimmy’s older sister. When the sun set and his dinner was done, Jimmy went to bed with his best friend tucked safely under his pillow.

            The next day, Jimmy brought out the magic rock and set him down on the carpet.

            “What should we do today?” he asked, sitting cross-legged next to it.

            “Oh, I’ve got some great ideas!” his friend answered, sparkly and sincere. “We can go build sandcastles at the playground or ride your scooter around pretending to be on a spaceship if you want!”

            Jimmy was already on his feet, ready to go. But the rock called out to him.

            “Well, hey, Jimmy " do you have a computer?”

            A computer? Jimmy knew that his mom had one in her office downstairs. He nodded.

            “Great! Before we head out, would you mind looking something up? Could you do that for your best friend?”

            Of course he could! Jimmy cradled the rock and, peeking around the corner to make sure the room was empty, went into the office and turned on the computer. The magic rock directed him to a website with a very complicated name that Jimmy had to type one letter at a time. It seemed to take hours. When he hit the enter key, Jimmy didn’t see anything very fun about the webpage. It was blue with white lines all over it, covered in words and rectangles and other things he couldn’t recognize.

            “Perfect, Jimmy! Let’s print this out and put it under your bed for now. In the meantime, we can go outside and have some fun!”

            Jimmy listened to the magic rock and turned off the computer, hid the printed papers under his bed and then ran outside. It was another fun-filled day with his friend, filled with exploration and adventure. When Jimmy crawled into bed that night, the magic rock had a favor to ask.

            “Jimmy, today’s been a blast,” it began. “Now that it’s over, I think I want to do some reading, to relax before bed. Would you please put that special paper on your nightstand, and then set me down on top of it? I just want to read it a little better.”

            Little Jimmy blinked. This was an odd request. But this was his magical rock friend talking. He put the blue diagram on his nightstand and set the rock on top of it, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

            He awoke to something of a surprise the next morning.

            “We’re going on a treasure hunt in the woods,” the magic rock informed him. “And after that, a special field trip! Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

            Jimmy looked down at his friend uncertainly. “I have school today…”

            “Let’s skip!” the rock whispered. “There’s some very special treasure out there to find. Just for you!”

            At the promise of secret buried treasure, Little Jimmy leapt out of bed and got ready. He grabbed the magic rock and listened to its directions carefully. Together they walked through the woods, further than he’d ever gone before, until they arrived at the base of a big oak tree with a pile of freshly disturbed soil by its roots.

            “There,” the rock said. “Dig around there.”

            Jimmy scooped the dirt away with his hands, his fingernails filling up with soil, until he uncovered a small metal box. At the word of his friend, Jimmy opened it. There was a shiny black gun inside.

            “Perfect,” the magic rock said softly. “Jimmy. Grab your backpack and some spare change from your room. We need to go on that field trip.”

            Jimmy sat frozen beneath the tree. Although young, he knew what a gun looked like.

            “It’s a toy, Jimmy,” the rock told him. “We’re going into town to play a game with some of my friends. You’ll love it. I promise!”

            Jimmy weighed the odds. Gun versus magic talking rock friend.

            “Let’s go!” Jimmy agreed, though doubt still flitted through his tiny mind.

            The magic rock took Jimmy to the bus stop near his house and gave him directions to the big city. Little Jimmy had never ridden on a bus by himself before. He felt just like a grown-up, with his quarters and his backpack all ready to go. He sat in back and watched the houses go by, growing larger and larger, full of windows and lights and people scurrying to and fro like ants. The city was exciting!

            When the magic rock told him to, Jimmy hopped off the bus. He found himself standing in front of an enormous marble building with the words CITY BANK engraved in stone above the doors. Jimmy gasped, and took a step forward, eager to see the inside. It was probably shiny.

            “Not there,” the magic rock said. “We’re going in a secret way. Like secret spies!”

            Jimmy liked the sound of that. They walked around the back of the building, down an alley, towards a metal vent that protruded out into the street.

            “Take a dime and unscrew the gate,” the rock instructed. Jimmy did as he was told, pulling the loose cover off to the side and exposing a ventilation shaft. Jimmy had seen enough spy movies to know what came next. With his best friend in his pocket telling him the way, Jimmy crawled through the vents, trying to be quiet. It would have been an impossible fit for an adult, and even for Jimmy it was a tight squeeze, but he kept on going. After several twists, turns, and tumbles, the magic rock pointed out a beam of light up ahead, and another grate.

            “That’s the opening we want,” the rock explained. “Push it open.”

            Jimmy put his shoulder against the metal bars and shoved with all his might. It jiggled a little bit, but wouldn’t budge.

            “Push, Jimmy!” the rock demanded. “You’re not even trying. Hurry up!”

            A little bit hurt by the rough talk, Jimmy grabbed hold of the bars and tried again. His little feet slid along the slick metal over and over again as he forced all his weight on the grate. It swung forwards, and Jimmy fell into a new, rather warm room. His fall had been broken by wads of twenty dollar bills stacked up on the floor. It was so much money that Jimmy could have made an enormous fort out of it, or stuffed a hundred pillows.

            “Jimmy!” the magic rock said, a new sharpness in his otherwise friendly voice. “We don’t have much time. Gather up as many of those bills as you can, and stuff them in your backpack. Hurry!”

            Little Jimmy zipped open his SpongeBob backpack and grabbed stacks of bills with his pudgy hands, forcefully shoving them into the compartment while the magic rock yelled at him to move faster. When the backpack was bulging at the seams, Jimmy tossed it over his shoulder and waited for his friend’s next instructions.

            “Right, now head back out the vent,” the magic rock said. “If the backpack is too full, use your feet to drag it along. It shouldn’t be "”

            Suddenly, a siren went off. Red lights began flashing in the room. Jimmy clapped his hands over his ears and started to ask his friend what was going on.

            “What?” the magic rock yelled. “No, no no!!”

            “What’s ha "?”

            “No time!” the rock shouted forcefully. “Forget the vent, Jimmy, get the gun out and run through the doors!! Point it at anybody who gets in your way! GO!”

            Jimmy was frightened. The loud noise was blaring in his ears, and a sense of being in big trouble was closing in.

            “What the hell are you waiting for?” the magic rock demanded. “RUN!”

            Jimmy stumbled through the doors and ran up a flight of stairs, the gun held tight in his clumsy hands. He reached more doors and shoved them open, finding himself in the main lobby of the bank, filled with people, just as confused and frightened as he was.

            “That kid has a gun!” somebody screamed, and the people ran away from Jimmy, shrieking, diving for cover. Jimmy felt bad.

            “Point the gun at them and move!” the magic rock said. Little Jimmy pushed through the mass of terrified people until he broke through to the street by the bus stop. But distant police sirens were already closing in.

            “No, no, no, no, no, NO!” The magic rock stammered angrily, almost shaking with rage in Jimmy’s hand. “Goddammit, Jimmy, RUN!”

            The sirens grew louder. Jimmy, with a gun awkwardly in one hand and the magic rock in his other, hurried down the city street as fast as he could. Every so often the rock would swear at him and tell him to run faster, but Jimmy was getting tired, and the magic rock could see that.

            “Down the alley to the right!” the rock commanded. “We’ll hide in there!”

            Jimmy puffed his way down the alley, tired shoes dragging on the ground with each step, weaving through the narrow, dark space between office buildings. Too late, they both realized that the only thing in the alley was a dumpster and a dead end.

            From behind, Jimmy saw a flashing red and blue light, as a police car drove up and blocked the way out. He backed up into a corner, terrified.

            “NO!” the magic rock screamed. “I’m not going back! I’LL DIE BEFORE I LET THOSE B******S TAKE ME BACK! Jimmy! I want you to put the barrel of the gun against me and pull the trigger!”

            Little Jimmy lifted the gun in his trembling hand, but couldn’t find the will to move it any more.  

            “Do it, Jimmy! DO IT NOW!”

            There was the sound of a gunshot. Splinters of quartz flew up into the air, catching the light from the police cars, shining red, then blue, then red again. They fell to the ground silently, almost like snowflakes. Where they hit the puddles of black water on the street, tiny, peaceful ripples wove outwards. 

            The Chief of Police stepped out of his car. A paramedic rushed towards the end of the alley, where the unfortunate childstill knelt on the ground, tears of confusion and terror running down his cheeks.

            Another officer stood next to him, holding his police radio.

            “Was that… him?” he asked.

            The Chief of Police nodded. He pulled a rugged lighter from his brown coat pocket and snapped it open, holding the flame up to the butt of a cigarette he held in his mouth.

            The officer sighed and took off his cap. “Thank God,” he mumbled, relieved.

            “Indeed,” the Chief agreed. He took a long puff of his cigarette, letting the smoke escape upwards and mingle with the filthy city air, and the grime of the alleyway. He watched it disperse, and then sighed.

            “The reign of terror is finally over.”

Reviews

[Indra's Child]

Love this. F*****g love this....
Damn I'm too stoned to say anything else.
Awesome story though haha