The Life of the Box Camera


 

    I woke up scared. There was water all around me, yet it was not touching me. By now I was very scared; what was going on? Suddenly a flapping, black bird landed beside me. “Hello,” he said. “What’s your name?”

     I just looked at him. Who was he?  He flew away, calling, “Look out!”

     I was very, very afraid; someone was coming. “Cool, I found a box camera,” said a girl’s voice. “I better leave before the camera people come.”

     That night I was sitting on a couch, half asleep. This Sara Garcia was someone important, very important. How do I know this? Well … on the way home from downtown, we had gotten a case that read: Property of Mrs. Garcia, the President, that’s how I know.

     I was sitting in my case while she had the T.V. on channel 4, the news. I was bored, “Let’s take a picture of you two with my new box camera,” said Sara.

      She picked me up, wound me, pointed me at her two children and pushed a button.  “Click,” I said and saved the picture on my roll of film. “My 1^st picture with Sara; not half bad,” I thought.

     When I woke up, Sara was gone. I looked up at the calendar…the 4^th of November, Election Day! Garcia vs. Bush! I rolled on the floor to turn on the T.V.  I heard a meow. I rolled back to my case and looked around: a…CAT! “Easy now, no one wants to get hurt,” I screamed. Just as I thought it was going to kill me, the T.V. started blaring. I turned slowly.

      On the screen, Sara was lying on the ground with people all around her.

     “Oh my gosh!” someone screamed. Soon an ambulance pulled up and drove her away. “No,” I said, “now I’m stuck with the furry, four legged thing.” A while later, the phone started to ring and the maid picked it up. We waited until she was done. “What will the kids say?” she whispered and picked up the cat and walked out of the room saying something about how Bush would now be the president.

     I felt tears of oil falling down my cheeks. Great, just great. Now I have to be sold, I mean SOLD, you know, like to a new person!

    But that didn’t happen. Nine years later, incredibly, I still live with the old cat in my old house. Just so you know, my old owner, Sara, died---sniffle---I don’t really like to talk about that subject. I’m not happy any more, but I will live.

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