Max's Tale

I also wrote this story when I was 10...It's also published on Writers' Window. I had to pick Short Story Collections on here as a genre, even though it's actually just a short story.

 

Max's Tale

 

 

“Max! I thought you knew better!” said Emily Benson as she stared down at the ashamed, embarrassed face of her one-year-old golden retriever. “I guess that I can’t leave you alone, even if you do stay in my room.” She placed her hands on the soft, angelic head nestled between her legs and scratched Max on the back. “You know Max, I think that you’re a great dog, but you have to learn to be more obedient.”

What had happened was this: when Emily was away at a party and her parents were on a date, Max had somehow gotten into Emily’s closet and found the new slippers she had gotten for her birthday. If Emily’s parents found the new slippers in shreds, they would certainly call an obedience trainer to come and calm Max down. After all, it was the third time that week that Max had gotten into something not belonging to him. 

Emily lived with her mother, father, her little brother, Nate, and of course, Max. The family had just moved from Maine to New York, and so they were just settling into their new house. “A mansion too large to clean, and too grand to seem like a real home,” her mother had said the other day after cleaning the humongous jacuzzi-tub in their bathroom. The room Emily loved the most was her own room. Emily’s room was painted to look like an underwater sea-world, with a gauzy curtain, reading nook with fish pillows, and big underwater mural on her wall. Emily was inspired with this wonderful theme after a summer vacation to the US Virgin Islands. Emily was only about six years old when they had gone there, but the images of swimming with beautiful fish, and watching the waves gently lap the shore of the spectacular island still stayed firmly in her mind.

“…that nation of the people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from this earth.” Emily recited to her mom one day in late April. “Good!” said her mom, “Great job, honey! I think you’re ready to recite it to Dad tonight!” She went over to the office cabinet and pulled out a worksheet. “For history today, I would like you to fill out this sheet on Abraham Lincoln.” Both Emily, 11 years old, and Nate, 7 years old, were home-schooled. Emily found 6th grade exciting, but Nate found 2nd grade just flat out boring. “Can I do something else besides reading? I think that book about Fat Man who eats apples all the time is dull.” So, that is how Nate’s school days went. As much as Mom tried to make school interesting, Nate made up his mind that it was dull (and he used this word often). 

When the Bensons had moved to New York state, Nate and Emily had done a lot of exploring around their house in the country. Max always loved hearing Nate and Emily talk about a creek that ran through a meadow. The meadow, however, was hard to get to. “The meadow can only be reached if you go through The Dark Part of the wood, and when you finally do go through it, and reach the meadow, it is often hard to find your way out. Emily and I laid rocks by the trail we took, to make sure that we could easily get out. And we did!” Nate had said. When Nate had said “The Dark Part” Max had misheard. He thought Nate said “The Dog Park”. As soon as he had heard “Dog Park,” Max made up his mind to go there. 

One lazy Saturday, Nate dashed out the door to go to a friend’s house. In his hurry, he forgot to shut door. Max saw this golden opportunity to go to the “Dog Park” and slipped out the door. 

Max grunted as he made his way through the wood. Little did he know, he still had quite a ways to go to reach the Dark Part. Already, his legs were tired, and his paws were sore. “Perhaps it’s better for me to stay inside on my dog bed, not go out in the woods,” Max thought in dismay has he turned around to go back home. He realized that he would not be able to find the “Dog Park” alone.



Meanwhile, at home, Emily and the rest of the family were calling Max's name, and looking all over for him. “Max!” cried Mom worriedly, “Max, I don’t understand what’s gotten into you!” Mom said, mostly to herself. Emily was the most worried of all. Tears streamed down her face as she called his name. He did not often run away. 


After a half an hour, the family decided to go inside and have some lunch. While they were eating, there was a scratch at the door. The door was flung open, and Max raced into Emily’s arms. “Oh Max, thank goodness you came back! Boy, did I miss you!” 


That evening, at family devotions, the Bensons sat on the back porch. “You know,” said Dad, taking a slurp of his coffee, “Today, Max reminded me of us. Sometimes, we want to see something new, or do something new, without anybody there to help us, or tell us that what we are doing isn’t wise. Well, Max tried to do something big without anybody there to guide him, but he couldn’t, and he realized that. He came back, and we were here with open arms to welcome him back. Often, we try to do things by ourselves too, but we can’t. We need God. We need God with us, to tell us to rely on Him. Sometimes, we don’t listen, and sometimes we do, but when we realize that what we are doing is wrong, or even impossible without God, he is always there to welcome us back.” Dad ended, taking another slurp of coffee. “This week, let’s all try to rely on God, and realize that we can’t do big things on our own.”

Reviews

[Cherry Chapstick]

um, I wrote it when I was nine-years old, and I intended to write it for a younger-aged audience. thank you.

[Havatara]

I liked it, but it was sort of like you were writing for a five year old. That may be my fever talking, though. . . .

[Dini]

I really liked it, and I I completley agree with Eagle Cruagh. But I don't understand why you had to involve religion into it. Not everyone believes in God.

[Eagle Cruagh]

Beautiful story.
Very well articulated, flowing with all of the
proper language to make the story interesting.
Nice !
---- Eagle Cruagh