I was headed to the local Marsh grocery store to feed my Pac Man addiction when I happened across a balloon with a note attached to it.
I picked up the note and it read: "If found, call this number. Reward! Timmy" It was obviously a kids handwriting. But "Reward!" with an explanation point? This Timmy had to be serious. I figured anyone letting perfectly good helium balloons go must have some rich parents, so I brought the balloon and the attached note home with me.
I wondered how far the balloon had traveled. Whenever I had let go of a balloon it had soared into the stratosphere, gradually fading to a speck, and then gone. Just like the dozen or so kites I had lost because of a half assed knot I had tied onto the spool in my rush to get it into the air. Now I would know just how far a balloon can travel on it's own. Surely this Timmy was from several counties away.
My mom had me convinced that this Timmy was going to be my new best friend. We could become "pen pals", whatever that meant. As I dialed, I just thought of the reward. Money? Baseball cards? Balloons?
A lady answered. After she got Tim to the phone I told him that my name was Craig and that I had his balloon. He asked me where I found it. I told him near Marsh, and asked him where he had let it go. He said that his family had just enjoyed dinner at Ponderosa, and on the way out he released the balloon with the note. He did this about 20 feet from where I found it. We both agreed that the balloon had not gotten very far. I reminded him that there was still this little matter of a reward. Timmy told me that he wrote that on there just so that whoever found it would call him back, and that there was no reward.
After a pause, I hung up the phone on Timmy.
