Dylan and the Beetle

           Dylan leaned against his broom and wiped the sweat from his face.  This was hard work.  He really regretted knocking that baseball into the neighbor’s window now, but he couldn’t undo it.  His father had given him the option of cleaning the furniture store over mowing the neighbor’s lawn for a month.  He now decided neither option was easy even though this option would only take one day.

            He had already cleaned the upstairs showroom and office.  Now he had to clean the huge showroom on the main floor.  As he scanned the room, it looked like a sea of furniture as far as the eye could see.  He would have to sweep around all that furniture before he could call it a day.

            Just then a big, fat insect buzzed by his head and landed on the floor next to a loveseat.  For a moment, Dylan stared at the bug.  It must have been some sort of beetle with blue and red streaks on a field of black.  He had never seen a bug like it.  His first instinct was to catch the bug and put it in a jar.  That would make a cool show and tell for science class next week.

            Dylan had seen some mason jars in the upstairs office.  He laid down his broom and quickly went upstairs to grab a jar.  The jars did not have any lids so he grabbed a piece of paper and a rubber band for an improvised lid.  Then he went back to the showroom to see if the bug was still there.  It was.

            Slowly, he crept toward the bug.  He planned to grab it with his hand and quickly stuff it in the jar.  As he made his way toward it, he wondered if this was a pinching beetle.  Just as he was debating whether or not grabbing the beetle with his hand was a good idea, the beetle flew up and nearly hit him between the eyes.  Dylan shrieked as he dodged the bug.  Now it was personal.

            Dylan no longer cared if he kept the bug alive.  A squished bug in his jar would be just as good.  He picked up his broom and started chasing the bug around the room.  After nearly sending a lamp crashing to the floor, Dylan decided that maybe his attack plan needed some work even though he thought that was the ugliest lamp he had ever seen.  It reminded him of a walrus.  He started shooing the bug into a more open place.  The beetle just would not cooperate.  Finally it landed on an old upright piano his father kept in the corner.  Tired of the chase, Dylan sat on the bench and began to plunk on the keys.

            Suddenly, Dylan heard a commotion outside and ran out the front door to see a parade of motorcycles coming around the block.  They proceeded down Main Street and just kept coming around the corner.  There must have been hundreds of motorcycles.  The smell of exhaust nearly knocked Dylan down, but he didn’t care.  He had never seen that many motorcycles together at one time.

            As the last motorcycle disappeared from sight, Dylan turned and walked back into the store.  There on the floor next to his broom sat his friend, the beetle.  Dylan decided the beetle had earned the right to live and left it alone.  After all that excitement, he still had to sweep the big showroom and maybe the beetle could keep him company.  With that, he picked up his broom and set to work.