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The Balloon  

When Pam was about, oh, five years old, we went to the fair. We passed a guy selling big round helium balloons in all colors. She was just goggle-eyed looking at them. Either of the other kids would have immediately pitched a fit to get one, but not Pammy. She just stared and stared until finally her dad noticed and bought her one. It was blue- a big round blue balloon.

 

I wanted to tie it to her wrist, but she wouldn’t have been able to go on any rides with it attached like that. I was going to tie it to my purse strap, but she wasn’t having that. This was her balloon. So I let her hold it. I took it from her when she got on the carousel and the Ferris wheel and gave it back when she was done. She didn’t like the rides as much as Christopher or Allison, but she was never going to let them go without her. Each time I handed the balloon back to her, she smiled, and I reminded her to hold on tight to it.

 

We were heading toward the barns to see the 4-H animals when I saw it happen. Pam had loosened her grip just a little, and the ribbon holding the balloon started to slide upward out of her chubby little-girl hand. I tried to say something, to tell her to hold on, but it was too late. My words made no difference, and I watched as the string slipped through her fingers. The blue balloon took off, right up past the trees and the power lines.

 

She didn’t cry right away. She just stared after the balloon as it bobbed along the currents of the breeze, squinting after it even when it had disappeared from view. She turned her big sad eyes toward me. “I let go, Mommy,” she said, and it just broke my heart to see my little girl hurting. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks for a few minutes, but she stopped crying soon and just got incredibly quiet, even for Pam.

 

When we finally left the fair and drove home, Pam fell asleep in the car. I carried her into the house and got her dressed for bed, barely awake. Snuggled into her bed, she looked up at me suddenly and said, “Maybe the balloon will fly here. Do you think it might?”

 

I told her the truth. “I don’t think so, sweetie. And even if it does, it won’t land until it can’t fly anymore. It would be flat- it just wouldn’t be the same.” Pam nodded sadly and drifted off to sleep.

 

I keep thinking about that balloon these days.



nqllisi is the author of 87 other stories.
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