{"id":1019,"date":"2019-02-10T13:36:55","date_gmt":"2019-02-10T18:36:55","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/read.whitefire-publishing.com\/?p=1019"},"modified":"2020-06-01T09:06:54","modified_gmt":"2020-06-01T13:06:54","slug":"the-snowball-fight-professional","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/the-snowball-fight-professional\/","title":{"rendered":"The Snowball Fight Professional"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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The Snowball Fight Professional<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

by Angela Ruth Strong<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I, Joey Michaels, am the Snowball Fight Professional.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Basically this means that customers pay me to shoot snowballs at other people. I\u2019m going to use the money I make to buy Grandma a great gift that will impress her with how responsible I am so she will give me a puppy for Christmas. Unless, of course, my cousin Winston has anything to do with it \u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Earning the puppy wouldn\u2019t be so hard if I didn\u2019t have the following problems:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

1) Winston stealing my employee<\/p>\n\n\n\n

2) Winston getting me in trouble every time I do something wrong<\/p>\n\n\n\n

3) Winston blaming me for things I don\u2019t even do<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If I don\u2019t get the puppy \u2026 ugh, Winston will get him. And that\u2019s the opposite of everything I want for Christmas. I mean, it is<\/em> all about me, right?<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

\n\t\t\t\t\t

Chapter 1<\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t

\u201cI hate\nsnow.\u201d My dad hunched over the steering wheel, eyes squinting out the\nwindshield, doing a pretty good impersonation of The Grinch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDad,\u201d I\nadmonished, \u201chow can you say that? It\u2019s great ammunition.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s\nnot so great for visibility.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My\nfingers curled around my new fifty-foot range snowball launcher. It had just\ncome in the mail, and I couldn\u2019t wait to try it out. A little Christmas gift to\nmyself\u2014paid for with some of the money I, Joey Michaels, had saved during my\nwater-fighting days.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Unfortunately,\na two-hour trip up into the mountains stood between me and sheer snowball-launching\nbliss. The good news was that, when we got there, the ground would be covered\nwith a blanket of marvelous snow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

By five\no\u2019clock, the sun had already set for the day. The way our headlights lit the\nsnowflakes, it looked as if we were traveling through space at light speed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It made\nme want to pretend we were in a spaceship and my snowball launcher was actually\na laser blaster. I aimed at my\nnine-year-old sister, Christine, and made a laser blaster sound. \u201cBuzzoinka.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMom,\nJoey is pretending to shoot me with his snowball launcher.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLaser\nblaster.\u201d I held up a finger. \u201cAnd I think I accidentally fried your brain\nbecause you sound like a dumdum.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMom!\u201d\nChristine screeched again, practically proving my point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMom!\u201d I\nechoed. If you can\u2019t beat \u2019em, join \u2019em. \u201cChristine is tattling!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The car\nslipped on the road. Christine flew sideways into me. My tummy flipped like I\nwas back in gymnastics, and Mom screamed. That was cool. Not the part where\nChristine flew into me but the part where we slid toward the edge of the road\nand the river below.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once, my\nschool bus had spun 360 degrees on ice. I still wish I\u2019d been bumper hitching\nbehind it at the time, but at least we were two hours late for school that day.\nBest school day ever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom\nfanned her face like she couldn\u2019t get enough oxygen. She did that a lot,\nwhether we were careening toward the edge of a cliff or she was discovering I\u2019d\nbeen wearing the same pair of socks for a week.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dad was\na little cooler. He muttered under his breath as he regained control of the\ncar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Christine\npushed away from me like we were sitting under mistletoe or something. \u201cEww \u2026 gross.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Apparently\nshe cared more about her proximity to me than her proximity to sudden death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d\nMom caught her breath and turned down the radio as if that would help Dad keep\nthe wheels on the road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I would\nrather she had left the volume up because I liked barking along with the dogs\nto the tune of \u201cJingle Bells.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cKids, let\u2019s\nplay the Peace-on-Earth Game.\u201d AKA the Quiet Game. Her favorite game.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf you\nwanted peace on earth, Mom, you shouldn\u2019t have let Joey spend his money on\nanother weapon.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hugged\nthe snowball launcher close and whispered, \u201cDon\u2019t listen to her, boy. We are so\nexcited to have you in the family<\/a>.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom turned\naround to face us. \u201cSweetie, it\u2019s not a weapon. It\u2019s athletic equipment. Yukigassen\nis a competitive snowball-fighting sport in Japan that is spreading around the\nworld. It might even be in the Olympics one day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She\u2019d\nrecited my argument perfectly. I should be a salesman when I grew up \u2026 if I didn\u2019t\nmake it as a pro Yukigassen player.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The\nwhites of Christine\u2019s eyes flashed in the dark as she rolled them at me. \u201cDad,\nI can\u2019t believe you let him spend all his money on himself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot all\nmy money.\u201d I had six bucks left.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, I\nspent my<\/em> money on Christmas presents\nfor others.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sure she\ndid. At the grocery store around the corner. I bet she got me Q-Tips again so I\ncould clean out my ears to better hear her lectures.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dad\ncleared his throat. \u201cJoe made<\/em> gifts\nthis year.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I smiled\nmy smug, middle-school smile. Now that I was in 7th<\/sup> grade, I got to\ntake this class called \u201cshop.\u201d I know, it sounded like a class Mom and\nChristine would attend to prepare for the day-after-Thanksgiving sales, but\nactually we got to use manly power tools in there. I made a pegboard game for\nDad, a casserole holder for Mom, a birdhouse for Christine, a guitar pick for\nGrandpa, and a picture frame with our last name engraved on it for Grandma.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Christine\ncrossed her arms and sat back. \u201cHumph.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom\nclapped her hands. \u201cSince you\u2019ve all lost the Peace-on-Earth Game, let\u2019s take\nturns saying what we are most looking forward to this Christmas.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dad\ntapped his brakes and we slowed for a narrow bridge. \u201cI\u2019m looking forward to\ngetting through this storm and parking the car.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\npressed my lips together to keep from saying, \u201cBah, humbug,\u201d and patted Dad on\nthe shoulder instead. He\u2019d be a different person when we got to his parents\u2019\nhouse and he was able to sneak some of Grandma\u2019s goodies behind Mom\u2019s back.\nThat\u2019s what he was really looking forward to. Hopefully he\u2019d swipe me a couple\npeanut butter reindeer and some peppermint fudge while he was at it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah.\u201d\nMom was clueless about Dad\u2019s sweet tooth. \u201cI\u2019m looking forward to helping out\nwith the Living Nativity. Are you sure you don\u2019t want to play the part of Joseph,\nJoey? You have the perfect name for it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dad\u2019s teeth\nglinted in the rearview mirror as he cracked his first smile since we\u2019d climbed\ninto the car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I smiled\nback. \u201cHow about I play a shepherd? Then I could use the hook of my staff for a\nslingshot.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A\npassing car illuminated Mom\u2019s worry wrinkle between her eyebrows that only\nappeared when she was looking at me. \u201cNever mind. Christine, what are you\nexcited about?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Christine\nflipped her hair so it slapped me in the face. \u201cIce-skating. Can I get one of\nthose fancy ice-skating outfits?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\nimagined myself commandeering a Zamboni and chasing her around the ice rink,\nbut Mom must not have been imagining the same thing. \u201cYou want to become a\nfigure skater? We could sign you up for lessons and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo.\u201d\nDad turned up the speed on the windshield wipers. \u201cNot unless she wants to give\nup her dance lessons. Or singing lessons. Or piano lessons.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease,\nDaddy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dad was usually\na sucker for Christine\u2019s \u201cPlease, Daddy,\u201d but it didn\u2019t override his mental\ncalculator this time. \u201cChristine, if you want to take all your Christmas gifts\nback and use the money to pay for your own lessons, that would be fine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ouch.\nTurning the holiday into a business transaction? That was extreme, even for\nDad.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mom\u2019s\nhead turned Dad\u2019s way. He was getting \u201cthe look\u201d even though it was too dark to\nsee it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dad must\nhave known. \u201cSo \u2026 Joe. What about you? What are you looking forward to?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Besides\nhoping that I got an arctic snow shield under the Christmas tree? I chose not\nto speak the idea aloud in case it hurt my snowball launcher\u2019s feelings. The\npoor guy was probably still smarting from Christine\u2019s rejection of him. I\nlooked down at the sleek new addition to my life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Should I\nname him? He was kind of a pet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Speaking\nof pets \u2026 \u201cI\u2019m excited to see Grandma\u2019s new husky puppies.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 Grandma bred huskies. I\u2019d always wanted one,\nand Dad said I could have one of my own when I saved enough money. But how many\nsnowball launchers could I buy for the price of one of Grandma\u2019s husky puppies?\nMore than thirty. It would be a while before I got a dog.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, me\ntoo,\u201d Christine said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I smiled\nat her. She was a girly girl, but at least we both agreed that Grandma\u2019s\npuppies were the coolest things on earth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLook at\nyou two getting along.\u201d Mom twisted all the way around to look at us, though I\ndoubted she could actually see anything in the dark. \u201cAre we on 34th<\/sup>\nStreet? Because this is a miracle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHa ha.\u201d\nI humored Mom. That was as good as her jokes got.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dad\nchuckled for real. \u201cIt\u2019s not 34th<\/sup> Street, but we are almost to Easy\nStreet. Just one more curve, then we will leave this river behind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I looked\nout the window toward the side of the road that dropped away over an embankment\ninto inky blackness. Not quite as inviting a scene as it had been last summer\non our rafting trip.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOver\nthe river and through the woods,\u201d Mom sang.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It had\ntaken more than an hour for her to burst into song. A new record.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Christine\nand I shook our heads sadly at each other. At least we were continuing to agree\non things. This might turn out to be a peaceful Christmas after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTo\nGrandmother\u2019s house we\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A deer\nleaped in front of Dad\u2019s headlights.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2014Whoa!\u201d\nMom changed the lyrics, though she wasn\u2019t overreacting this time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tires\nscreeched.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I jolted\nforward then swayed violently from side to side as our vehicle fishtailed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Christine\u2019s\nshriek pierced the air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\ngripped my snowball launcher tighter and ground my teeth together. We were\ngoing to be okay. Dad was a safe driver. Just because it looked like we were headed\nfor the edge of the road\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The car\njumped as one of the rear tires slid off the edge and slammed the bottom of our\ncar on cement.
<\/p>\n\n\n