Tuesday, December 20, 2016
I was out in backyard, practicing archery again and ready to scream "bullseye!" for the thousandth time. But then my hand began to shake. The arrow went wild and missed the target -- and hit the beehive. "Shit!" I said. (You can quote me on that!) The bees started swarming. I ran around the corner of the house and fumbled for my key. I fished it out of my pocket just in time -- the bees were circling -- and bolted through the front door, slamming it just in time.
What the hell is wrong with me, I thought. My hands don't shake! I looked down at my fingers. Nothing unusual. Then I looked at my new watch, the one Miranda gave me. It had a tiny second dial that was impossible to read. The house was dark, so I got my flashlight and magnifying glass, placed the watch on the kitchen counter, and took a closer look at the dial. It was set to the time when I had told Miranda I'd be doing target practice. The watch had a secondary knob that controlled the smaller dial. I moved it to the current minute, and the watch began to vibrate -- hard. Seven on the wristband Richter scale, I'd say. After a few seconds, it stopped. So that was the watch's alarm feature, which Miranda hadn't mentioned.
Miranda! She was trying to sabotage me, wanting me to shoot arrows in all directions, in any direction except toward the bullseye. To break my record of hitting it almost every time. To destroy my confidence. And all because that errant arrow on my first day of archery practice had killed her cat.
(This is prompted writing. I interpreted the bold-faced words from the images on Rory's Story Cubes)