I wrote this story a while ago but I liked it and I wanted to get the opinions of people other than my classmates because, frankly (but unoffensively), I sometimes need more opinions than what they can dish me. A little information about this story: it is based on a true story about my dad and his elder brother, Karl. That's all you need to know. If you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask. Enjoy. The Ballad of Johnny Ball by Zack Petersen It was a sunny day—the day the Petersen boys maimed Johnny Ball. And he sang at the top of his voice. To be precise, only two of the Petersen boys were the culprits. They were about as close as two brothers can be, seeing as they were able to commit such a crime together and suffer through their punishment as such. Kenny and Karl were their names and they must’ve been only a year or two apart in age because their appearances were similar. Both boys had short sandy colored hair and short lanky bodies in their large hand-me down clothing. Karl and Kenny were the third and second youngest in their family of ten, so getting away with mischief wasn’t their problem, normally. That sunny day was a Sunday and the Petersen family was home after a morning of bellowing hymns in church. The Reverend of that church was none other than Mr. Petersen himself so it was not uncommon for church members to join him for lunch, even if he did have a family of ten. The Ball family was visiting the Petersen household and they had brought their son Johnny who must’ve been about the same age as Kenny or Karl. Kenny and Karl, like most boys their age, did not care to have company at their house because it meant an afternoon of cleaning and not disturbing the adults. Their lamentations were heard by Mrs. Petersen, their mother, but she didn’t have enough sympathy or empathy for them when she had six other children. In fact, she was rather apathetic. Begrudgingly, the boys headed outside humming their elegy while looking for Johnny, who was already in the yard. “Hi Kenny. Hi Karl,” Johnny Ball greeted them rhapsodically with his finger up his right nostril. “Hi Johnny,” Karl said while Kenny curled his lip with obvious disgust. The Petersen boys really had no desire to play with Johnny and they were determined to make the better of the afternoon so they let Johnny do most of the talking. “What do you guys want to do?” Johnny asked innocently, without showing the slightest hint of realization that the Petersen brothers didn’t want to play with him. “I guess we could, you know, play football, or something.” Johnny tried very hard to make a suggestion that would appease the austere Petersens, and at this point a tune began to chime in the young Karl Petersen’s head. This is a tune that should be spoken of with reverence and respect for Karl’s terrible cunning and mischievous nature. This is a tune that should be spoken of with distaste and revulsion for the indifference shown in regards to the mental and physical health of Johnny Ball. As this symphonic melody traversed its way through Karl’s mind an idea was spawned and he slowly leaned towards Kenny. In a low voice Karl voiced his aria to Kenny, “Kenny. Let’s go on the roof.” “What?” “The roof. Let’s take Johnny to the roof.” And now there was a glint in Kenny’s eyes. Kenny turned around and started leading the way to the thick vines that would allow them safe passage to the roof, without even suggesting the idea to Johnny. The two other boys followed, Karl with a nefarious smile and Johnny with a quizzical grin. “We’re going on the roof?” Johnny voiced this obvious question as the Petersen boys were already halfway up and he himself was grappling with the stringy vines and starting to fear for his existence. Kenny and Karl wrenched Johnny the rest of the way when they could reach his hands and Johnny’s fear was belittled by his awe at the height from which they perched. This immediate change was not anticipated by the hooligan duo and their faces fell when they saw Johnny’s joy. But the orchestra in Karl’s head would not stop playing and he saw Johnny Ball sit on the edge of the fifteen foot roof. The maestro conducted as Karl silently slinked behind Johnny and gestured for Kenny’s gaze. He motioned with his hands as if to push Johnny and Kenny impishly nodded his head, joining the composition, and Johnny toppled from roof due to the force of the push as Karl and Kenny trilled in their deleterious voices. But their faces were wraithlike when Johnny hit the ground and no elation could be detected. Johnny Ball, writhing on the ground, screamed his requiem in high pitched shrieks. The burning dirge ripped through the calm afternoon and the ears of the dining adults grasped the sound instantly. Reverend Petersen, Mrs. Petersen, and the Ball couple leapt to their feet and rushed to the yard. Mrs. Ball gasped at the pitiful sight of Johnny’s twisted arms and Mr. Ball hurried to his son’s side trying to ameliorate the situation. Johnny was quickly stuffed in the backseat of his family’s car and no talking took place as the Ball family hastily revved the engine and drove to the hospital. Like gargoyles, the pastor’s sons squatted on the brink of the roof awaiting their judgment, all stone-faced and pale. “Come down here boys,” was the sum of what the pastor said until the lean bodies of his sons appeared on the lawn in front of him. No indignation could be discerned on Reverend Petersen’s graying features but the boys knew punishment wasn’t far off. With disappointment he finally said, “Go get your piggy banks.” Kenny and Karl were quick to get their pennies and come back to their father who was in the same position they had left him. Their mother clucked her disapproval under her breath and went to do dishes. “Get in the car boys,” Reverend said. Kenny finally dared to utter a question. “Where are we going?” “You’re going to buy Johnny the nicest card you can find and write your apologies on it,” Reverend Petersen answered. They were like those in a funeral parade as they drove to the general store and then to the hospital, but beneath their quiet faces there still lurked a harmony. Karl’s mind began humming and Kenny still had a glint in his eyes, and their father gave a deep sigh—because he knew. | 
