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First in the Seven Days of Timmy 's Snow White

Short story By: Wilbur
Literary fiction

Timmy LOVES the movie Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. He loves it so much, he decides to live it - kinda, sorta. It's a Timmy Thing.
This is the first installment of seven. Read and then stay tuned.

Submitted:Jan 24, 2012    Reads: 20    Comments: 5    Likes: 2   

The Seven Days of Timmy's Snow White

SATURDAY (the Plan)
Timmy lay on his bed, his toes wriggling, free of socks or shoes, his feet propped on his pillow, his head at the other end of the bed, his arms behind his head, hands cupping his head. He was gazing at the pictures on his wall. The green with gold-spots caterpillar he adores, the camel - a photo Sascha, the school crossing guard and his good friend (she said so!) gave him -- that kinda fascinates him, and the new one - a picture of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs his brother found on the computer and printed out for himself. He only made Timmy a copy when he saw his Mom look at him hard. Now Timmy has it up on the wall where he can look at it any time he wants. From his most favorite position. Which is where he is right now.

Timmy's whole family watched the movie last night. His Dad had got it for them at the store when he was on the way home from work. Friday night movies. And Timmy LOVED the movie. It had all good stuff in it. Timmy could lie here and play it over in his mind. It was so cool! He loved Snow White. She was so pretty. And that mean one, looking in the mirror, with the poison apple. Wow! The prince was okay. He guessed. He woke up Snow White from sleeping in that glass box the dwarfs made it. His Mom called it a coughin'. She dint usally do that. Say things like laffin' or lookin' or goin'. But he knows he can't figure out that stuff out so he doesn't try.

The dwarfs, now. His Dad said to say it, "duh-warfs." His Dad had wrote Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs at the top of his picture, so he could see it up there. He dint really read yet. Simple words. Some, anyway. But he wanted to remember the dwarfs. They were GREAT. He LOVED them. His toes wiggled back and forth and stretched apart. Timmy liked doing that when he felt like giggling instead of giggling. Like his toes were giggling for him.

Then his toes stopped still. Timmy did too. He was so caught up in what he was thinking, he didn't hear his brother coming in and wasn't aware of his brother staring at him. Was way off in his imagination when his brother jumped on the bed, making it bounce and Timmy bounce too. Hard. He'd been so surprised he choked on his spit and had to have bangs on his back to help him breathe again.

His brother din't know what to do. But his Mom did. She'd been coming in to put away clean underwear when she saw his brother jump and land and she was going to scold him for jumping but had to help Timmy catch his breath instead. All the clean underwear went on the rug where she dropped it. His brother had picked it all up, re-folded it, and put it away while Timmy's Mom was banging on his back and making his cough so he could breathe. His brother did all that stuff with the underwear 'cuz he was really scared.

When Timmy could breathe again he was so relieved and glad he couldn't be mad. So he said that he wasn't mad, could they both just have some milk and cookies now. His mother tch-tch-ed a lot. But then she said she s'posed his brother being that scared was punishment enough. So they all went downstairs. Where she poured them each a cold glass of milk and put out a plate of her special molasses cookies. Timmy's brother was on what his Mom called, "his good behavior," and he even offered to let Timmy have the third cookie all to himself. But Timmy couldn't eat that much. They were way big cookies and he'd just had lunch. Instead, first he offered half to his Mom, but she'd said no, thank you sweetie, and ruffled his hair, so then he pushed it over to his brother and said he could have it all for himself, 'cuz after all he was the bigger boy. And his brother din't even make fun of him or be rude when he accepted it and instead simply said thank you. So then they were good friends. For the moment, anyway.

It wasn't until that evening, when Timmy'd had his bath and before his Dad came up to read to him, that he could settle back in his favorite position and gaze at the picture again. It would be Sunday tomorrow and he had a Plan. One that made him giggle even as his toes were fanning out and wiggling back and forth, so that both he and they were expressing his delight. It was a way cool secret and Timmy was so proud and pleased with himself he could just about burst. But then his Dad had come in and said he had a new book they were going to start, all about a chipmunk and a skunk who become very best friends. So Timmy let his secret go for the time being. But only after making sure it was tucked away in a very safe place in his memory. Where he could think about it again before he went to sleep.


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