Twenty-seven Bucks

Flash Fiction

Twenty-seven Bucks

“Can I borrow some money?”

Ten-year-old Ronny looked up, a serious look on his face. He gets a five-dollar allowance every weekend! Granted I only got one dollar as a child myself, but even I know you can’t get much for a dollar anymore.

Still keeping ‘Mother Cool,’ instead of jumping into the why, I asked “How much?”

“I think… twenty-seven dollars…”

Now that was an odd amount, obviously he knew everything he needed to know, and obviously I did not. Motherhood reared its ugly head.

“For what? That’s a month worth of allowances mister!”

I could see the warmth drain out of his face; he was nervous.

Realizing that was a vocal blow, I quickly asked, “Is everything OK?”

“Yes and no… Andy wants to buy a present for his mother’s birthday. He knows she wants a mixer! So, he started saving his allowances so he could get it for her. But he’s still short twenty-five dollars and her birthday is next weekend.”

“Why from you? What about Andy’s father?”

“Andy doesn’t have a father…”

I was in over my head. I’ve known Andy for three years as Ronny’s friend, and I never knew his father was gone.

“Oh,” I said, back to calm, I hoped… “Sure, but didn’t you say twenty-seven dollars…”

Ronny’s cheeks suddenly got quite red, “Well, I was hoping to still get my ice-cream bar, you know, after I mow the lawn?”

I had to rush to keep the laugh in. “Well, good thinking!” I said, getting the cash out of my wallet.

“You’re the best Mom!” he yelled, “I’ll be back to start the lawn as soon as I give Andy the money!” Off he ran.

I’d always wondered if we were doing a good job raising Ronny. I never wondered again.