. . .

The jellies make me loose

The racetrack that day was glowing softly in the sun's light. Carl, a bright-haired boy about a year too young to be allowed to be standing where he was, hopped up and down in excitement as the dogs neared the finishline. "Go! Go, Mighty Comet! Go!"

His father looked down at him, grinning wryly . "How much did you bet, kid?"

"My life's savings. $134.90. If he makes it in, and you cash the ticket in for me, I'll make back, uhm," his freckled face screwed up in the effort of thought, "$674.50, which is enough for that stereo. This is the best, dad! This is the greatest bithday present yet! GO MIGHTY COMET!"

The two of them watched as the dogs rounded the track towards the finish. Carl leaned forward, intent, but the cloud of dust kicked up by their passage had obscured the lanes enough that it was difficult to determine which one was farthest forward. Closer, closer, closest... "*BING!* We have a winner, ladies and gentlemen! The new king of the track is... MIGHTY COMET!"

Carl exploded with delight. He flung his arms around his father, a broad grin creasing his countenance. "I won, dad! I won!"

"That's great, son. That's... that's just great. Give me the ticket, and I'll go get the money for you. That's the way. I'll be back shortly. Don't wander off, now!"

"Aww, dad."

Carl's father walked away, sweating. The day had been hot, and looked to be getting hotter. He reflected on the money symbolized in the ticket in his hand. So much money.