The Object of Joy

The first day of the rest of my life started out the same as any other. I sat obediently where my carers had told me to sit, trying to stay still. The HE came in. The boy that would change my life. It started out like any other interaction, the boy said he wanted to take me home, but his mother said no. But the boy came back and asked again saying he needed me. And I knew that I needed him. Finally, the mother said yes. 

The boy took me home and we played together, bouncing around his room. Eventually, his mother came in and said we had to be quiet and that the boy needed sleep. The boy settled into bed, creating one for me right next to him on the floor.

In the morning the boy had to go to school. I was sad without him, but I did what I had done every other day; sit still and wait. As the sun slowly moved through the sky, I began to think that maybe the boy didn’t want me after all. I grew sad, thinking about what might happen to me next, being left, abandoned or maybe even killed.

But then I heard the door open! Oh what a wonderful thing that was! My only friend had returned! I heard thumps that meant the boy was coming up the stairs and then his bedroom door flew open, the expression on the boy’s face one of pure joy and wonderful expectations. He scooped me and ran out of the house with me, calling back to his mother that he was going out to play in the park.

When we got there, I was amazed to see all the colour and vibrancy of the park, the green trees reaching up to the sky and the lush grass a beautiful carpet beneath us. The boy showed me his favourite hill to roll down and the perfect sine that if you swung just high enough you could touch the branches of the nearest tree. We swung together and we even rolled down the hill a few times. 

I had never had so much fun in my entire life. The boy had already shown me so much more than I had known, things I would never have dreamed of. Like candyfloss clouds and merry-go-rounds that spun so fast, they flung you off. I never wanted to leave my new life. I had seen too much to go back to the monotony of my life before.

The next day, the boy went to school again, but this time I knew he was coming back. I spent the hours dreaming of our next adventures. What would we see next?

Then came that joyous sound of the front door being opened and up thumped the boy’s footsteps. His door was opened and there he was, excitement glittering in his eyes. Again, we ran out of the house, the boy calling back to say he was going to the park.

This time we only rolled down the hill twice, the boy giggling through the whole thing. Then he took me to a part of the park I hadn’t seen yesterday. This part had flat fields of green and black. One fenced-off area had a plastic that looked like grass but wasn’t, little black bits of rubber making it seem bouncy like real grass. The boy took me in there and taught me how to play a game called ‘football’. Then once he got bored of that, we played ‘basketball’. They were both quite fun, but I had gotten scraped up a bit, not used to the motion of the games. 

We started to head back home when the boy and I heard a musical sort of noise like a little fairy had stopped by. The boy grinned and ran towards the sound, reaching into his pockets and trying to find some money. He eventually found some and joined a line that had formed around a jovially painted van. We waited there for what seemed like forever, one person at a time slowly getting served their treat. When it was the boy’s turn, he stepped up to the man standing in the little window and asked for a cone with strawberry syrup on it. He eagerly took his ice cream and started licking it for it had already started dripping onto his hand. He took me over to a bench and told me to stay there while he finished his ice cream. I obeyed, watching him with fascination. I wish I could enjoy treats like that. 

Finally, the boy finished his ice cream, getting up and throwing the paper away in a nearby bin. He told me that we still had a bit of time before we had to go back to his house so he showed me the slide. It was a towering mass of wire stepps and a polished surface to slide down the boy made me go first, keeping an eye on me from behind. Then he went. He squealed as he went down, throwing his hands up in the air. He came to a stop just before he reached me, getting to his feet and dusting off his bottom. He came over to me and we went back up the see-through steps to the top. 

Again, the boy pushed me in front of him, watching me come to a stop at the bottom of the now-hot meatal. The sun had warmed it throughout the day and it was now paying off, the neat still feelable from where I was now waiting for the boy to begin his descent. 

This time, however, instead of sitting down like a normal person, he wiggled a bit, sliding down onto his tummy. He pushed off and screamed, having the best time of his life. He picked me up and rushed up the stairs, letting me go first once again. I had begun to understand that this little boy was quite adventurous, and, left to his own devices, could possibly be a menace. He turned around this time, not looking where we were going, and pushed off, leaning forward to not fall off the side of the slide. He almost did, but thanks to his low centre of gravity he didn’t quite tumble off the side. 

He looked quite shaken after his little escapade with the slide and decided we would return home after he played a quick game of catch with his friend who had appeared on the top of the hill. We ran to meet them, the little boy introducing me to his friends. We played catch for a while, but one of his friend’s wild throws had me rolling down the hill at an alarming pace.

Mercifully, I came to a stop, resting on the path that had slowed my descent. Around the bend in the path came a dog and soon after his owner. I waited patiently for them to pass, but the dog had taken an interest in me. He came up to me quite suddenly, despite the yanking on his lead from the owner.

Suddenly I heard a cry from further up the hill. It was the boy! He had come to save me!

“No! My ball!” That was the last thing I heard before the dog sunk his teeth into me.

Then, I popped.