Where Were You Fictionalized

 I was digging around and managed to find my fictionalized Where Were You, Roy Rogers?

Where Were You, Roy Rogers?

          Mickey leaned on his arm dreamily, ignoring the reality of the slate grey late November sky and seeing instead bright blue skies and a brilliantly shining sun.  He saw himself looking out the window of the Songbird, Sky King’s personal airplane.  Sky King was one of Mickey’s syndicated television heroes, capturing bad guys and coming to the rescue of good guys.  Mickey sat in dumb old Penny’s seat on the plane.  Why Sky King would want to bother with a niece on board the plane was beyond Mickey.

          “Michael, you look like you’d like to answer the next problem,” his teacher said, interrupting his reverie.

          “Oh,” Mickey gulped, panicking.  Where was the class now?  Why did they have to have math so soon after recess?  He just wasn’t ready to work yet so soon after play time!  He straightened up and looked around, hoping to get a clue from one of his classmates.

          The loudspeaker gave a warning sound and Mickey sat back, relieved.  The coming announcement would buy him a little time.  Maybe Mrs. Higgins would forget she’d called on him.  That would be a really lucky break!  The principal began speaking and Mickey heard him say something about an ambush in Dallas, Texas.  Mrs. Higgins gasped and went fish belly white.  His classmates had begun murmuring in confusion.

          “What?”  Mickey whispered to his neighbor.

          Patrick shook his head in disbelief and whispered back, “Somebody shot the President in the head!”

          There was a babble of voices and then Mrs. Higgins began talking to them softly, trying to calm the children.

          Mickey wasn’t worried.  His number one hero, Roy Rogers, would come to the rescue all right!  Roy and his sidekick Gabby Hayes appeared every Saturday morning and Mickey was a faithful viewer.  Roy had his beautiful and loyal steed, Trigger, who ran as fast as a bullet it seemed, just like Superman.  Roy always caught the bad guys and brought them in.

          Mickey played today’s episode out in his mind.  An old stagecoach rattled down the dusty road.  Suddenly, riders wearing black hats and riding black horses drew alongside the driver, waving their guns.  The driver was forced to stop. 

          Immediately, the President popped the stage door open and demanded, “What’s going on here?”  He sported a flat city slicker hat, a string tie and suit.

          “Give us all your money,” the head bad guy ordered, “or we’ll shoot.”

          “Go ahead and shoot because you’re not going to rob me!” the President retorted bravely.

          One of the bad guys pointed his pistol at the President and fired.  The President fell back, hand to his head.

          Just then, Roy Rogers came over the hill riding Trigger.  Gabby Hayes rode alongside him.  The bad guys took one look, panicked, and rode off in a desperate hurry.  Roy stopped long enough to make sure the President was all right. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” the President said, waving Roy away.  The head wound was just a crease.  “Go and get those dastardly criminals!”

Roy and Gabby took off in pursuit of the bad guys.  Mickey knew it was just a matter of time before they were caught.  He began to set up the next scene.  There would be a minor shoot out and then the bad guys would throw down their guns and give up.

          The loudspeaker made its warning noise again.  Mickey knew the principal would announce that the bad guys had been rounded up and brought to the sheriff.  He was so sure of it, he thought he hadn’t heard right when the principal announced the President was dead.  Mrs. Higgins began to sob.  She turned the class lights out and asked the children to put their heads down.

          Mickey complied, in a state of complete shock.  How could this be?  How could the President have been killed by a little scratch on his head?  Why weren’t the bad guys caught and on their way to jail?  This couldn’t be happening!

          As Mickey numbly rested his head on his crossed arms, some awful possibilities began to cross his mind.  Maybe head shot wounds weren’t always just little creases.  Maybe Roy Rogers had arrived too late to save the day.  Worst of all, maybe he hadn’t gotten there at all.  The sun was no longer shining in Mickey’s world.  He looked out the window at the bleak skies and saw that there seemed to be no color anywhere out there.

          Where were you, Roy Rogers?