Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-33937557-20180622235552

''I made this as the remnants of Toys 'R' Us crumble into the ocean of time. Might too sob-story-ish, but I'll see what you think.''

--Read On.--

Abandoning a store I'd put my heart and soul into hurt more than I could imagine. The familiar click and rattle of the glass doors as they locked made me sick and a tear trickled down my cheek as I glanced at a yellow hand-drawn "Out of Business" sign taped to them. I stood with my forehead against it for as long as the falling snow would allow, maybe trying to take all the memories I could with me.

"How did this happen, Kite?" I whispered into the evening air, breath visible as a streetlamp flickered to life.

But I knew the answer. I'd seen the closure of my business coming months in advance: I hadn't paid off the debts that came with the territory or sold enough to people who wanted something special. This was really all my fault, not properly managing my money or getting somebody to help with it.

It was still upsetting that many children were going to be left without a Christmas gift from me this year.

Kite Toys had been my lifeblood, I've got a real inner kid to me. From the time I was just a little chap, I'd created wooden trinkets to amuse myself with. Dad had always told me they were creative and impressive, Mom would help me by painting some of these, eventually teaching me how, because, as she said, it "gave them personality".

When other children around saw my toys, they started pleading with me to give them away. At first, they got exactly what they wanted: free toys. This is where my money management issues started. I've always been a bit too giving, too eager to do favors, and too blinded by friendships and personal relationships to properly watch my spending. I'm a big softie.

Then Dad, being the capitalist he was, stepped in one day and built a tiny stand for me, big enough for shelves, a chair, and a window. It took him a week. He sat me down in there after all was said and done, I was seven at the time, and said, "boy, if you're gonna give your toys away you might as well get money back for the hard work you put into them."

"But I don't really wanna charge—"

"No 'buts'," he snapped, "I give you wood to make those things, and that wood comes straight from the money in my pocket. Now, unless you wanna see us lose our house, I suggest you use this shack I've built and give back to me!"

I think he noticed the way I'd looked down at the holes in my shoes. We were lucky to have a home, especially during the era in which I grew up, and lucky that Dad had a steady job in a factory nearby making bullets for the war effort, not overseas, but I felt hurt at the way he'd yelled. The spirit of a child is easy to break.

Stepping outside, he picked up a big board and a can of red paint, then came back and handed them each to me, one at a time, with a warm, apologetic smile on his face.

"How about we give this place a name, kiddo?"

And that's how Kite Toys began. I made our family lots of money while the shed stood faithfully in our front yard. Heck, until the Second World War ended I was our biggest source of income, Dad stood beside me all the way. The pay was so good that I decided to quit school a year before graduating just to devote more time to it.

That shack was my happiest childhood memory.

As I reflected on this, the snowfall grew heavier. So did my heart. The sign was still in the door when I peeked up at it. Ronny felt cold in my hands.

Ah, yes, Ronny Robot, how had I forgotten him? His blue coating was faded, red eyes still stunning as ever, and design simple as it would forever be. Ronny was the first metal toy I ever created: four different rectangles and two circles melded together. The paint gave him volume, for without it he would've simply been tin.

When the first Kite Toys crumbled in on itself one night in a torrential downpour, Ronny was the only toy to come out unscathed. He was the last piece of the old place left.

"What a spectacular thing that Ronny-Bot of yours is."

Mom had shivered, standing in the rain with 18-year-old me as I'd wept over my loss. All those toys, all those hours of effort, destroyed in an instant. However, that wasn't the only reason I cried.

As I'd stared into the scarlet circles of the thing, I could hear Dad's voice, distant yet louder than the pounding droplets of water, say, "you've repaid your debt."

Oh, how I wished he would say that again now, make everything alright. But he couldn't make this better. He couldn't buy me the store back. Men who've been dead for 30-odd years have no use for money. And this made me burn with rage.

"Say it again, damn it!" I cried, gripping Ronny tightly in my fingers, "say that I've repaid the debt! I want my store back, Dad!"

He didn't utter a syllable, just stared back at me the way Ronny usually did. Stomping my feet, I hurled the toy to the pavement. Somehow, maybe because of the snow, it held firm. The streetlamp shorted for a second, yellow glow ceasing, then came back on.

"You gave me back Kite Toys then, why can't you do it now, huh? Why can't you give it back now?!"

Ronny stayed quiet. Face-down, not even his eyes could give me an answer. I roared in anger, but it weakened into a dull whimper as I leaned, teeth chattering, against the door. I'd been out a long while.

"Do it for your son! Tell God or... w-whoever... tell 'em..."

I slumped to the ground, bawling like a newborn. I found myself unable to move my arms and legs, certainly aching due to frostbite.

"... Tell 'em to give it back... D-dad... give it back..."

The cold grew worse, chilling me to the very bone. My fingers were tinged blue, my eyes were difficult to open as the tears were slowly freezing. I couldn't leave my store. Not Kite Toys. It was the only real shred of innocence I had left.

"... I don't know... what to do..."

My inner child was keeping me here, keeping an aging man in a cold winter night. But I needed it. I couldn't lose Kite Toys... it was everything...

"... Dad... please..."

... Kite Toys was everything...

"... Dad..."

... Kite Toys... was me. 