Jimmy Of W.K; Beginning of Chapter Four

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic


A ten year old's adventures!

Submitted: November 02, 2017

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Submitted: November 02, 2017

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Chapter Four:

 

Later that day, he was watching 'Ghost Hunters' on T.V. What a joke--maybe he'd believed in ghosts when he was nine, but he was much too old to believe in them now. Look at that, greenish light designed to make the viewer think something spooky was happening, when there was always a perfectly good explanation. Still, it would be really cool if it was real. He thought, instead of a ghost hunter, he'd like to be a ghost-fraud hunter. His mind was soon lost in the daydream:

 

 

Jimmy set up his equipment in the supposedly-haunted mansion. He and his cameraman had set up here for their T.V. show, 'Ghosts, Ha!', and Bennie, his cameraman, was filming everything. Bennie had been scared to come in this house, for he believed the superstition about this place, that a bloodthirsty spirit roamed the halls of the house, looking for innocent people to murder, but Jimmy had scoffed, and was buying exactly none of it. After assuring Bennie that they'd uncover a more pedestrian explanation, he'd agreed to come. 'It's too bad not everyone can be as brave as me,' thought Jimmy.

 

 

After about four hours of exactly nothing happening, Jimmy was starting to believe nothing was going to, and was trying to think of something that would make for a slightly better show than four or five hours of nothing, when their came the sound of chains rattling from one of the upstairs bedrooms. Chains, really? He told Bennie that they were going to check it out, and to make sure he filmed everything. Bennie's face turned white, and he replied,

 

"No way I'm going up there!"

 

So a disgusted Jimmy ripped the camera from his arms, and said, "Fine, ya Fraidy -Cat! If you're to scared to go up there, I'll film it myself.

 

 

Jimmy, indeed alone, started to film--he walked up the stairs, following the sound of rattling chains. When he'd reached the door of the room where the noise was coming from, he turned the door knob and threw open the door. There, before him, on the other side of the room, was a ghostly figure levitating about two feet above the beige-carpeted floor.

 

Initially thrown by the sight he was seeing, Jimmy quickly regained his skepticism (such a big word; did he have it right?) and crossed the room in four or five strides, and ripped the sheet off of the man's head, and saw the man was hanging from piano wired secured to the ceiling.

 

"Ah, ha--you're no ghost, just a man!"

 

"Drat's--I would have gotten away with scaring everyone away, so I could break into the safe at my leisure--the one right over there," and he pointed to his right, "If it wasn't for you--why didn't my foolproof plan work on you?"

 

"Because I guess I watch one too many cartoons."

 

"What?"

 

"You know, cartoons. Animated (?) drawings?"

 

"I know what cartoons are--but how do they explain your bravery?"

 

"Oh, when I was a kid, there was this cartoon about a dog who solved cases involving a supposed-ghost, only it was never a real ghost--only a criminal pretending to be a ghost so he or she could get away with a crime."

 

"Dang it!"

 

 

Jimmy came back into the world of reality when his stomach growled. "Mom, I'm hungry," he called into the kitchen, where his mother was cooking something, something that smelled wonderful.

 

 

The next day, his mom's voice called out from the kitchen, "Jimmy, turn off the T.V., it's time for dinner." She was busy making, hamburgers! Jimmy was watching an old Sherlock Holmes movie on the a channel that played old movies. Man, that Sherlock Holmes sure had it going on.

 

 

A stuffed ten year old Jimmy wobbled (ha, Wobbly Knob?) his way back into the living room. He bloated back on the couch--he was so full! He picked up the remote and flipped on the T.V. The Sherlock Holmes movie was still showing. Look at him, solving seemingly-impossible-to-solve crimes-he was always light years ahead on the smarts ladder. Jimmy thought it would be so cool to be like Sherlock Homes:

 

 

'"Elementary, my dear Shelter,(who took the form of his best friend, Davy,)" said Inspector Jimmy of Scotland Yard, to his much-denser assistant, Sharecrop Shelter. He was answering Sharecrop's question about how he had already solved the crime.

 

 

Jimmy knew that Sharecrop was a very unusual name, but he thought it sounded cool, and he also knew that Davy wasn't dense, but it fit his daydream, so he went with it.

 

 

Inspector Jimmy knew Sharecrop couldn't help being denser--next to him, everyone seemed denser. He was investigating the murder of a kindly candy maker. Who would kill a candy maker, and was just about to reveal what he'd deduced.

 

"So, can you explain why you were found standing over the body with a bloody knife in your hands?" Inspector Jimmy asked David Gailer, the grocer who'd sold the kindly candy maker his sugar and chocolate.'

 

Oh, sugar and chocolate, yum!

 

'"Ah, because I found him like that?"

 

"Sir, I can tell by the soles of your shoes that you're lying."

 

"You can? You can't even see the soles of my shoes."'

 

Oh, oh, Jimmy would have to do some mighty fancy thinking to get himself out of this mess.

 

'"Sir, you told me earlier that you had walked all the way here, and yet there are no watery footprints anywhere around, and it's pouring down rain outside. Therefore, you must have been here, lying in wait, for at least long enough for your shoes to dry."'

 

Just how they were miraculously on the scene minutes after the murder, Jimmy didn't know, but he was ten years old--things didn't have to be logical.

 

David Gailer suddenly bolted towards the door, looking wildly around.

 

"Arrest that man," shouted Inspector Jimmy, to the uniformed police officers who had suddenly appeared.

 

 

Later, back at Scotland Yard, poor Sharecrop Shelter was looking rather puzzled. "Inspector Jimmy, how did you figure out Gailer was the murderer--I couldn't tell--he looked like he was telling the truth."

 

How to explain his brilliance to an ordinary man? "Simple, my dear Sharecrop--I eliminated everything that was impossible--therefore, everything that WAS possible, had to be the truth."

 

"Oh" replied a still-puzzled Sharecrop Shelter.

 

Jimmy was puzzled also, but let it go.

 

They had solved this case, and were waiting for the next.

 

 

All this daydreaming about sugar and chocolate had revived Jimmy's hunger--in a way that seemed exclusive to ten year old boys, and now that the Sherlock Holmes movie was over, it was about time for dessert.

 

"Mom!"

 

******

 

Jimmy was frantic--he couldn't find the candy bar he'd hidden in the bread drawer, behind the old 1/2-eaten loaf of wheat bread, that had been shoved behind the fresher loaf of white bread. He had hidden it there, because his older brother Tim, when he'd stop by to visit (he lived on his own) always seemed to eat Jimmy's favorite candy out of the usual candy drawer. Jimmy wished he was as smart as Inspector Jimmy (forgetting the fact he was Inspector Jimmy!)

 

 

Inspector Jimmy kept a close eye on the table full of suspects he had rounded up for questioning. He had been called in to try and solve a mystery--one of the six people here had eaten the expensive candy bar Mrs. Jefferies kept on display, almost like it was a piece of artwork (to be fair, it was mighty beautiful!)'

 

Never mind that it made no sense--Jimmy was controlling the daydream, and he wanted it to be about a candy bar.

 

One of six people, who were all proclaiming their innocence, had chowed down on the expensive, almost-a-work-of-art candy bar, and Inspector Jimmy would find the culprit.

 

 

"Sir, where were you during said candy-chomping?" asked Inspector Jimmy, of a tall, thin man who was looking particularly guilty, at least to Inspector Jimmy.

 

"I was in the study."

 

"A likely story--well, if you were in the study, what subject were you studying?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"I said, if you were in the stu---"

 

"I heard you--I just can't believe the question. It's not that kind of study-a library."'

 

 

Jimmy didn't know the difference, so it was time to play dumb (forgetting the fact this was all coming out of his brain.) He was completely forgetting the he must know, he was controlling the fantasy!

 

 

"I knew that--I was hoping you'd slip up and say something incri--incri--bad."

 

 

The next guiltiest-looking suspect was David Compost, a man who kept shifting his gaze every few seconds, a dead give away for deception, in Inspector Jimmy's book.

 

"Where were you, sir, during the candy caper?"

 

"I was in the living room."

 

"Did anyone see you there?"

 

"Not to my knowledge."

 

Inspector Jimmy asked Compost a few more questions--asked the other suspects some questions, then announced he knew the guilty person.

 

"I've been able to deduce which one of you is the guilty party." His gaze touched briefly on five of the six possible suspects, before coming to rest on the sixth.

 

"You, sir, are the guilty one!"

 

David Compost looked around desperately at the other five suspects, and proclaimed, "You have no proof--I answered every question satisfactorily."

 

 

Jimmy thought that was a word, but he was ten!

 

 

'"Correction, you answered every question satisfactorily except where you were during the theft of the candy bar."

 

"I'm innocent!"

 

"Oh, no you're not."

 

"I don't see how you could say that I did it, when nothing I said could possibly lead you to that opinion."

 

"Oh, it wasn't what you said--it was the chocolate all over your mouth."

 

"What? I looked in the bathroom mirror just before coming out here for your meeting, and saw nothing."

 

"Well, you must have missed a spot, because there's melted chocolate on your face."

 

"Dang!"

 

 

Jimmy snapped back to reality when he suddenly remembered he'd at first hidden the candy bar in the bread drawer, before changing his mind and moving it to the back of the junk drawer. Sure enough, the candy bar was there. Jimmy said a silent apology to everyone in his family he'd suspected of the outrage, tore off the candy wrapper, and stuffed as much of it in his mouth as he could. "Mmmmm!"

 

 

Dang, summer was almost over. Just a few more days. His friend Davy had been gone the whole time on 'vacation'. How fun that must be to be stuck doing grown-up stuff. His parents called it 'the grand tour'--woopty-do, sounder more like 'the prison-tour' to him. Well, dang it, he'd make the most of the rest of summertime..

 

 

"Go Speed," yelled Jimmy. It was early Saturday morning, and he was the first one up--therefore, he got to watch whatever he wanted on T.V. There was zero chance he would watch some home repair show, like his dad would, or some lame gardening show, like his mom--no, nothing but cartoons for him, and not just any cartoon, the best one ever made (at least that was his opinion), "Speed Racer". How anybody could watch that show and not be mesmerized, was beyond him. Suddenly, his dad's recliner chair, in which he was sitting, became his race car:

 

Speed Jimmy downshifted and started into the turn. He was way running second to Snake Oiler, driving the 'Dark Skull' car, in "The Motorama 500", but that situation wouldn't be lasting for very much longer. He was just about to pass hi--suddenly, from a hidden tank underneath 'The Dark Skull' car, poured a torrent of motor oil, and Speed Jimmy lost control of his race car, which spun forty two times, and flew off the track, which was built on land on top of jagged cliffs...

 

Being ten years old, the absurdity of that was lost on him!

 

...and went air born. His pet monkey, Sprite, who for some unknown reason was in the car also...

 

Once again, the absurdity of that was lost on him--it was his daydream. If he wanted to think that, so be it.

 

...screamed a monkey scream, and for some reason, clamped his paws over Speed Jimmy's eyes.

 

"Sprite, move your paws so I can locate the button that releases the parachute!"

 

Sprite immediately understood him, and lowered his paws. Speed Jimmy found the button called "Emergency Parachute", pulled it, and immediately, the race car stopped falling fast, and was brought up just short of the ground, where it gently touched down.

 

"Sprite, thank goodness you're a very smart monkey who understands English, or we'd have been doomed.

 

"Eee-eee!" answered Sprite.

 

 

As Speed Jimmy and Sprite climbed the sheer wall of the cliff they'd flown over, and started walking up the track, the sound of a powerful engine sounded behind them, and Speed Jimmy grabbed Sprite, saying,

 

"Look out, Sprite--awwww!"

 

But the powerful engine turned out to belong to Racer X (In reality, Speed Jimmy's long-lost brother), who pulled up alongside them.

 

"Speed, I gave a stern lecture about cheating to Mr. Oiler, and he feels bad. I don't think you will have to worry about Mr. Oiler trying a stunt like that again."

 

 

Jimmy pulled his dad's recliner chair into the pits (once again, even though the recliner was supposedly sitting at the bottom of a 2,000 foot cliff, he wanted his daydream to end with him driving into the pits--it didn't have to make sense. Jimmy unbuckled his non-existent safety harness, and climbed out of the recliner. Wait, what about Sprite? He turned, and said,

 

"Out you go Sprite," before remembering it was only a daydream, and there was no Sprite--but it had all seemed so real.

 

 

Just then, his bleary-eyed dad staggered into the living room, took one look at what Jimmy was watching, and said,

 

"Oh, no, were not going to watch some insipid cartoon--give me the remote," and he switched it to his home repair show.

 

Oh boy, a boring guy talking about boring stuff--BORING!

 

"Until we meet again, Snake Oiler," he said out loud.

 

******

 

Jimmy stared with amazement at the ten foot high face of his hero, Carl Canyon, as he swash-buckled his way through a horde of evil, mean pirates. He finally, after eleven months, had decided how he wanted to spend the twenty dollars Aunt Trudy had given him for his tenth birthday. He knew it was weird for a kid to NOT spend money, but every time he thought he'd decided what to spend the money on, he'd see something that looked funner. And so, having made up his mind, he was sitting in a darkened movie theater at The Wobbly Knob Six, which only had five screens. Why The Wobbly Knob Six, he didn't get, but then, so much of the adult world was beyond him.

 

As he watched Canyon clash swords with Captain Dread, leader of the pirate hordes, Jimmy thought how cool it would be if it was him, instead of Carl Canyon, who was the movie star up on the silver screen:

 

 

'"Action," yelled the director of Jimmy's latest, coolest movie, "Jimmy VS. The Evil Pirates." Jimmy lunged with his sword, and attacked the fifteen mean, evil pirates. Once again, the script called for Jimmy to triumph over overwhelming, seemingly-impossible odds, and save the beautiful princess taken by the evil pirates.

 

"Okay, cut," yelled the director, but the evil pirates paid no attention, and continued to attack Jimmy. "Cut, I said cut," but it did no good.

 

Jimmy realized this wasn't a movie, this was real. As he backpedaled, he looked down and saw a cargo net on the floor.'

 

 

Just what a cargo net was doing on the floor of a sound stage, didn't phase him at all--this was his daydream, and if he wanted a cargo net to be there, there would be a cargo net.

 

 

'He continued to backpedal, until all the evil pirates were standing on the net, then suddenly sprang off, and in one swift motion, cut the rope that held the rope tied down, and the cargo net shot skyward, with all the flailing, angry evil pirates caught inside.

 

A red-in-the-face Captain Dread shouted, "Let us down!"

 

Jimmy answered, "Not today!"

 

 

Jimmy was trying to work out WHY the movie actors had suddenly become real, when he heard,

 

"The movie's over, wake up."

 

Jimmy sat up with a start. Over? He saw all the lights had been turned on, and the theater was empty. Wow, he must have really been daydreaming hard--he hadn't fallen asleep, or had he?


© Copyright 2018 Mike S.. All rights reserved.

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