The Missing Time Piece

I wrote this right after my first daughter was born while taking a short writing class. A children's story.

“Get out of the way, boys!” shouted a rider from on top of his horse. Johnny and Timothy shot to one side of the dirt pathway just as fast as their legs could carry them. Johnny spun around a tent pole and hid behind the sun-bleached canvas of the tent.

“Phew,” he said to himself while peeking out from around the corner. “That was close.” Just then, Timothy, Johnny’s little brother, skidded to a halt inches away from Johnny. They didn’t have any money, but they really wanted to see Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. It had just rolled into town with all of its glamour and highfalutin stunts, but with no ticket, Johnny and Timothy could get kicked out any minute. The ticket master had noticed them from his booth sneaking around the flap of the tent and into the sleeping area of the actors. Before the boys knew it, a man with a rather large hat and very broad shoulders was hot on their scent. They seemed to have lost him for a few minutes but managed to just about get run over by one of the actors on his horse. As they stood there by the tent, Johnny glanced around, looking for the largest tent, the one where all the action took place. He finally saw it, just through those smaller tents. He looked right, then left, then with one swift motion, he grabbed Timothy’s collar, stepped out from his hiding place, and started to tip-toe toward the arena.

They peered in each tent as they passed them. One had a petite lady sitting in front of a mirror. She brushed her hair slowly like an elegant lady, but she didn’t look like one.

She was covered from head to toe in leather, fringe, Indian beads, and medals. The most interesting thing was the many guns leaning against the inside of the tent. They stumbled on past and in the next tent saw what seemed like a tribe of Indians. They all sat around chanting something. They wore brightly colored leather clothing, with beautiful beads and feathers. Johnny let go of Timothy and turned to go between two tents to reach the arena when he heard something—a voice, a very strong and commanding voice. He leaned closer to the farthest tent.

“Do ya hear that?” he asked Timothy. He tried to make out what the man was saying. Timothy strained is ears, moving in closer.

“Welcome,” the man began, “to the most extraordinary show that you will ever feast your eyes upon.”

“You be a lookout!” Johnny whispered to Timothy as he laid down on the ground and pulled the bottom flap of the tent up peering in. It was him! It was Buffalo Bill! Johnny could hardly believe his eyes. Buffalo Bill was practicing what he would say to the crowds when he announced the show. He was alone in the tent. There were a few pieces of furniture: a table, chair, cot, and a trunk. Just then, a man in a Civil War-type uniform stepped into the front of the tent and announced it was almost time for Buffalo Bill to start the show. Buffalo Bill straightened his hat and, while still looking in the mirror, leaned over to grab his coat that lay next to him on a chair. Once again, he started to practice his welcome, then turned quickly and walked out the tent. Johnny could hardly believe what he just saw.

“Buffalo Bill,” he whispered in awe. The greatest entertainer in the world was in the same place as him. Johnny started to sit up when he saw something shining under the arm of Buffalo Bill’s chair. Johnny looked both ways, then slid under the tent canvas and was soon inside the tent. Timothy thrashed around under the edge of the tent, trying to get under. Finally, he was inside, but all he could do was stand there with his mouth open, taking in all the sights of Buffalo Bill’s tent. Johnny crept ever so quietly over to the chair and leaned in to see what was sparkling.

A watch! He picked it up and examined its fine face. Etched in the shimmering gold on the inside cover was the words, “Without you, we would cease to exist,” signed “The Cherokee Nation.” Just then, both Johnny and Timothy heard someone coming. They jumped behind the trunk just as one of the announcers stepped in front of the tent door. He raised a paper megaphone to his lips and said, “Five minutes till show time.”

“Oh no!” Johnny said. “I have to get Buffalo Bill’s timepiece back to him before the show starts, or he won’t know what time it is to call the Indians or to get the horses or to start the shootin’ matches.” Johnny hopped to his feet. He looked one last time at the watch—to make sure he remembered it exactly the way it was—then slipped it into his pocket and, with Timothy, scrambled back under the tent. In just a few minutes, they were sneaking in the arena, desperately looking every which way for Buffalo Bill. Finally, Timothy caught sight of him.

“There he is,” shouted Timothy. It seemed as if Buffalo Bill had already noticed his timepiece was missing. He searched about in his pockets and coat, looking for the watch. Johnny took off running and was almost there when another announcer called one minute before show time.

“Mr. Buffalo Bill,” Johnny shouted. He knew that he was giving himself and Timothy away and would probably be kicked out of the show, but without the timepiece, there couldn’t be a show. Buffalo Bill turned around and saw Johnny running towards him. Johnny was huffing and puffing when he reached him.

“I was in your tent watching you practice for the show, but when you left, I noticed you had accidentally forgotten your timepiece. I didn’t want the show to stop because you didn’t know what time it was, so I came as fast as I could to give it back to you.” Buffalo Bill was completely stunned.

“My boy, without this timepiece, I would have had a hard time keeping the show together. You have saved the show with your honesty.” Just then, the ticket master’s assistant came barreling around the corner, dragging Timothy behind him.

“There you are,” he said, “you can’t sneak in here without a ticket.” He reached out and started to put his hand on Johnny’s shoulder when Buffalo Bill grabbed his arm.

“These boys are my special guests today,” he said.

The assistant looked stunned but backed away, letting go of Timothy, and soon walked off, repeating how sorry he was.

Buffalo Bill led Johnny and his little brother over to a set of chairs on one side of the arena and asked them to sit there with a few other people. Timothy sat down next to a tall man with deep black braids and multicolored beads around his neck. Johnny sat down next to a lady dressed in buckskins and decked out with every type of gun and knife ever made. She had long blonde hair pulled back in two loose braids. She smiled really big and said,

“My name is Annie, what’s yours?”