When Dave sighted the bags of rice heaved atop each other, four per column, he laughed like a witch flying on her broom across the moonlight. To say he was ecstatic was an understatement. He downright loved big bags of things. Oh, the things he would do to those swell bags.
The last time there was a bag as big was when Dave’s mum was to bake for an event. She bought a full bag of flour and put it in the basement.
Dave would spend hours in the basement, kicking, jumping and punching the bag of flour. He loved the white dust that came out each time he hit the bag.
One time, he jumped on the bag of flour only for the thing to pop. An avalanche poured out from the cut. Dave ran up and pretended nothing happened.
When Dave’s mum found out about the torn bag, Dave suggested it must have been a rat as there are always rats hiding in all the basements in the world.
As Dave was relishing his first kick at the rice bags, his sister, Agatha, barged into the basement.
“What are you doing here?” She quizzed.
“None of your business,” Dave retorted.
“Whatever,” she said, shooting him a suspicious look.
“Phew! Now she’s out. Let the games begin!” he gloated to himself.
Dave kicked the topmost bag closest to him.
“Ouch!” He groaned.
Little did he know that rice bags are actually stiffer than flour bags.
“Not fair,” Dave uttered, “I’ll have to teach you a lesson another way.”
He walked some paces back and ran full throttle at the heap of bags. He slammed into them and the topmost bag rolled over and hit the floor with a bang. He cried out in victory, beating his chest, King Kong style.
“Dave!” He heard his name, faintly.
Mum was calling, it was time for lunch.
Dave squinted at the heap.
“I’ll be back for you,” he said, before jetting out.
“Where have you been, Dave? Your mum has been calling you,” dad asked.
“I was in the…,” he fell silent, “the room, yes, the room,” he continued.
“You lie!” Agatha uttered.
“Shut up,” Dave responded.
“That’s enough,” said dad, “Dave, you will learn to talk to your sister with respect, she’s older than you. Now, apologise to her.”
“I’m sorry,” Dave said reluctantly.
“Dad, he crossed his fingers,” Agatha replied.
“Enough!” Dad uttered, “I will have no more of your squabbling.”
On cue, Mum came in with about a hundred things in her hands.
“Dinner time, boys,” she said as she arranged the dishes on the dining table.
“And lady?” Muttered Agatha.
“Of course, sweetheart, and lady.”
Mum cooked rice with curry sauce, and for some reason, it bemused Dave.
“Care to share with us, Dave?”
Dave tried so hard to swallow his chuckle, like a video suddenly playing backwards.
“Dad, he’s happy because of the bag–“
Dave poked Agatha just has she was about completing her statement.
“Hmm,” dad hummed, and lunch continued.
After lunch, Dave went back into the basement. He resumed kicking the rice bags and jumping on them. It was so much fun for him, to hit the things that couldn’t hit back.