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Mrs. Black’s Latest Idea By Mark Guido
Prologe:
As you grow, you learn new things. Every year, I learn new things, just like you. At age 12, I learned that stealing a can- dy bar or two saved you a couple of dollars. At age 13, I learned that stealing video games saved me about fty dollars. Finally,
at age 14, I learned that stealing money from another’s bank ac- count saves hundreds of thou- sands of dollars. Obviously, my knowledge of theft has gotten me my fortune, and the only thing stopping me from early re- tirement is my parents, or parent, since my beloved father died in a shoot out.
It was he who taught me the ethics and effective methods
of thievery. One day, he just waltzed in casually, sat down, and quietly told me this:
“ Johnathan, you are the only hope for this family. Now, I’m very sure that you have questions about this, but let me explain. Let’s think Robin Hood for a second. Steal from the rich, give to the poor. You’ve heard of that, right? That’s your mis- sion. To steal from people. Give us what they don’t deserve. Take money right from their pockets.” I was aghast. Here we were, in my near barren bedroom, and my own father was sitting here, telling me with straight face
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steal. At rst, I was skeptical, rejecting every obscene word my father threw at me. After a while, though, everything pieced together in my mind. Some people have too much money, and they don’t use it. We need every cent we can get, and I’m in charge of getting those cents. Soon, I could steal anything.
Chapter 1
from, and that was also looking at location, compatability with her son’s problem, and most im- portantly, price. So, after picking up a phone book and checking under ‘correction center’, she found approximately 23 loca- tions. One that caught her eye was the South eld Center for Juvinille Delinquints, in a loca- tion right in town, with high protection in a secret faculity. The thing that really caught her eye was the price, $50.00 for three weeks. This put ideas in her head. Yes, very good ideas, very good ideas...
My life is about giving. Giving to us.
Mrs. Black sat on the couch, depressed and crying. Her only son stole for a liv-
ing, and my words can’t break through to him. Once a month, she would consider new things that would help him rethink his criminal ways. I could try – no, he can’t know that. It would break his heart. She had also considered calling the police, but then her pride and joy, who is only fourteen, would be be- hind the bars he would be being taught to avoid. Today, her latest consideration was to send him to a juvenile correction center, an idea which really had potential.
“Mom, give it up. You and your stupid ideas are NOT going to change me. I don’t have a problem, I already know tons of positive ways of thinking,
and people hate me, through and through. You’d be spending fty dollars that we need for nes- sessities! Forget this correction center thing.”
“Son, I know that going to this place can make you a positive person. And, as your mother, I will make you go.”
Her son would correct his “problem”, he’d learn positive ways to expand his thinking, and nally, he’d meet new kids that he can share his intellect with. On the other hand, there were just so many places to choose
“I haven’t listened to you in over three years, I seriously doubt today will be any differ- ent.” smirked Johnathan.
Mrs Black closed her eyes in sadness. The only sound she heard was her son’s light foot- steps as he quickly walked out
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