Stories

Under the Tennis Ball

It was The Between Times, after the first four years in the Army, after the divorce, during the lean year of no money, struggling to make ends meet, hating my job at Motion Industries, moving back in with the parents, and feeling like a complete failure.

Then, I met Kady.

She and I planned to meet at my parents' house in Huffman, one evening after work.

From the first day we met, we were together every day. We had precious little time alone, usually spending time with friends. This day would be different.

In case she got there before I arrived, she needed a key. I only had my copy, so I told her I would hide it outside. Because Huffman was already in decline, I didn't want to use an under-the-door-mat kind of place.

I looked out front and behind the house; there was no decent location. I checked the garage for an idea, something she would spot easily. I noticed my brother's basket of old tennis balls in the corner.
That's It! I'll hide it under a tennis ball.

I set the basket by the front door to block my morning exit so I wouldn't forget. I called Kady, telling her the key would be "under the Tennis Ball in the front yard."

Arriving, she found about forty tennis balls in the front yard.

Luckily, she searched until she found the key and was still there when I got home.