Roger Prince was freezing. He had never been this cold in all his life. In fact, he was cold as a block of ice. Why was Roger Prince so cold? Because he was dead … stone-cold, dead-as-a-doornail D.E.A.D. You see, Roger had a big problem … he could never say βnoβ … and now because of that he was dead.
Roger Prince was the nicest guy youβd ever meet … the type of guy whoβd let you go ahead of him in line. The type of guy whoβd help change your flat tire. The type of guy whoβd loan you $10. Roger Prince was … well, a prince.
But poor Roger Prince … as nice as he was … was also kind of a sap because he just couldnβt say βnoβ. If there was such a thing as being too nice, that was Roger … that was his Achilles heel, his weak spot, his fatal flaw.
Temporarily unemployed, Roger tried saving money by moving into the upstairs bedroom of old Mrs. Willoughbyβs house in the outskirts of town. A housebound widow with no family, Mrs. Willoughby let Roger stay for practically nothing. Having no tv or phone, her expenses were minimal. Roger helped pay for utilities, maintained the house and brought in what little mail was delivered. He also went to the grocery store to buy Mrs. Willoughbyβs staples: peanut butter, bread, instant coffee and a few toiletries.
This particular December morning, a heavy snow started around 2:00. When Roger woke up at 8:00, it was still coming down and showed no sign of stopping. Going into the kitchen for his morning coffee, Roger found none … also no bread.
βRoger, dearβ came a feeble voice from the parlor. βCan you run into town for coffee and bread? I forgot to ask you last night.β
βMrs. Willoughby, have you looked outside? Thereβs three feet of snow out there!β Seeing her confused and distressed look, Roger couldnβt say no. βDonβt worry. Iβll head into town right now.β
Roger mumbled βWhy do we live in the middle of nowhere?!β
Wind-swept snow whirled around Rogerβs face as he slowly trudged into town. Suddenly he lost his footing and tumbled down a steep hill, his eyes widening as he slammed head first into a tree. How ironic that his final startled word would be βNOOO!!β
Roger Prince died instantly, the falling snow enveloping his body.
And Mrs. Willoughby waited.
NAR Β© 2017
The Elephant's Trunk 