King Chance’S Epic Adventure: A Boy’S Tale

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Chance was smaller than other boys his age. Not weaker, just smaller. But he knew it was only logical to believe that his parents must have been small as well. If only he had a photograph or could meet someone who had known his parents, then he would know the answers to some of the many questions that had haunted him his entire life.

Chance lived in a very small apartment on the topmost floor of a very tall, rickety building. The building was wedged in among lots of other buildings in a busy city block.

It wasn’t much of an apartment at all. It looked more like an abandoned warehouse, which is exactly what it was. The building Chance lived in used to store bags of grain and bolts of fabric to be transported to cities all over the world. That was a very long time ago.

Since then Littleton had built a huge warehouse to store their goods, which were now transported by airship. The new warehouse had been built twenty miles away in a large industrial park that housed two large mills, a textile factory, a granary, several other warehouses, and an airship landing station.

Littleton was not the kind of city that was with the times, but it did consider its industry a very important piece of the large community. The finished goods that Littleton produced helped to keep taxes down and provided good jobs.

The old warehouse that Chance lived in was converted into tiny apartments and rented out to less fortunate people. Marilyn and Barney Poorman rented one of these tiny apartments.

The Poormans were just as their name suggests: poor. They used to live in a nice, spacious apartment on Thirteenth until Mr. Poorman lost his job due to the closing of the railroad station. Mr. Poorman had been employed by Black Smoke Rails as a packing supervisor. It was his job to see that Littleton’s goods were packed into the train cars properly so they would not be damaged during their long journey across the country. This was a very important job.

Since then Littleton’s industry had grown a lot, and the cost of coal to fuel the trains had increased so much that Littleton was forced to find other means of carrying its finished goods to other cities throughout the country. Black Smoke Rails closed, and, sadly, Mr. Poorman lost his job.

Barney and Marilyn Poorman were forced to move from their nice, spacious apartment into the converted warehouse.

The city’s elected officials were going to tear down the old warehouse, but Barney had pleaded with them to convert the building and rent it out to the people who could not afford to live in those nicer apartments on Thirteenth. The officials didn’t care about the poor people in the city, but they saw the money that could be made and agreed to this.

This old building was in bad shape and should have been torn down for safety reasons, but the city converted the building into many tiny apartments in the cheapest way possible. The walls were so thin that you could hear the neighbors’ conversations.

The topmost floor of the building was in the worst condition of all. They had only been able to create one tiny apartment on this floor. The rest of the floor was boarded off and marked Condemned.

It took a full fifteen minutes for the freight elevator to reach the highest floor. When you exited the elevator, you had to be careful to stay to the left side of the corridor. The right side was in terrible shape. The floor tiles were peeled up, and there were several holes that you could fall through if you weren’t careful. At the end of the corridor was a small, gray, rusted door that led to the Poormans’ apartment.

Inside the apartment were four small rooms: a living area with a fireplace to keep the apartment warm in winter, and a bathroom, bedroom, and kitchen. Off the kitchen was a small pantry, and this is where Chance slept.

The Poormans never had any children. As much as they longed to have children of their own, they knew they would never have the money to provide a child with a good life. They could barely provide for themselves. Mr. Poorman had sought employment from every company in Littleton but was turned away for some reason or other. He wasn’t qualified. He didn’t have the kind of experience they were looking for. He was given every excuse in the book.

It was Mrs. Poorman who got a job. While Mr. Poorman was away one afternoon looking for aluminum cans to recycle for money, she took it upon herself to try for a job. She was hired at the textile factory to pull lumps out of the dye vats. It wasn’t much of a job, and it didn’t pay well, but it was a job.

That evening she told Mr. Poorman about the job. He did not take the news lightly. He was very sad that he could no longer provide for her, but he accepted the news because he knew it was crucial for their survival.

Mr. Poorman continued looking for aluminum cans to recycle, and Mrs. Poorman continued working at the textile factory. Between them they made enough money to rent the tiny apartment and keep food in their pantry.

Although the Poormans were very poor and had to work very hard, they were happy . . . mostly.

Many years had passed since Mrs. Poorman got her job at the textile factory, and she was now too old to have any children of her own. Not once since Mr. Poorman had lost his job had anything good happened to them. The people of Littleton turned their backs on them when they most needed their help. They were treated like bums—an eyesore to this fine community. Even the city’s children took pleasure in tormenting them by shouting mean things at them and throwing stones.

But today was different. Today was special. Nothing could bring down the Poormans’ spirits today. It was the five-year anniversary of the day they had found Chance, the best and only good thing that had happened to them since the closing of Black Smoke Rails.

It didn’t matter how many stones were thrown at them, how many mean things were shouted at them, or who stuck their noses in the air and ignored them. Today was Chance’s day. A very special day.

Very early on that warm summer morning, Mrs. Poorman snuck out of the apartment before the sun had risen. She and Mr. Poorman had been saving every bit of money they could to make this day very special for Chance.

Mrs. Poorman walked all the way to the business district. She was hoping there wouldn’t be too many early shoppers since it was a weekend, but to her disappointment, there were several women in the grocery store, and they all scowled at her as soon as she stepped foot inside.Mr. Cooper, the store owner, told her, loud enough for everyone to hear, that there was no day-old bread for her and then went on to remind her to go to the back of the store when looking for handouts.

Mrs. Poorman held her head high and spoke over the sniggering and giggling of the other customers. I am here as a paying customer today, Mr. Cooper.

Mr. Cooper looked at her intently and replied, Okay, but I’m keeping an eye on you, and don’t bother my other, more respectable customers.

Mrs. Poorman was so shocked and angry at what she had just heard that she backed right into Mr. Benson. I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Benson, she said.

Mr. Benson shook his head and grumbled for her to watch where she was going and went straight for the stack of newspapers.

Mrs. Poorman could not believe that she had just been labeled a thief. Not only had she never stolen anything in her entire life, but the thought had never occurred to her either. She knew in her heart that stealing was wrong, even when she was hungry and cold and didn’t have any money. She began to think that the good people of Littleton weren’t so good after all.

She thought of Chance’s special day and went on with her business as if nothing at all had just happened. She walked straight to the toy aisle to find something for Chance. There were lots of toys that a young boy would love to have. There were soldiers, race cars, and marbles; trains, board games, and comic books; and bicycles, video games, and even trading cards. But all of these things were much too expensive. With a tear in her eye, she left the store and walked down the littered street to the bakery. She didn’t bother walking in the front door this time but went right around to the back. There she found the baker and asked him whether he had any discounted birthday cakes for Chance.

The baker, Mr. Pilsner, thought about it for a moment and said, I do have a three-day-old anniversary cake that I could change into a cake for Chance. It was for the Houghs’ sixty-second anniversary, but Mr. Houghs caught pneumonia the day before their anniversary and wound up in the hospital, he exclaimed bitterly. It was a good thing I got a down payment before I made it, he muttered to himself. Me being a most understanding citizen of Littleton, I told Mrs. Houghs not to worry about the cake. I will make the adjustment to the icing and charge you half price. Mrs. Poorman was so excited that she dropped coins all over the ground. Mr. Pilsner asked her to wait while he got the cake for her.

Mr. Pilsner grabbed a crumpled box out of the trash and disappeared into the bakery. He came back a moment later and handed her the same crumpled box. Mrs. Poorman opened the box and saw the cake. It was a white cake with what were once beautiful yellow roses along the edges. The yellow roses were now smashed down and looked more like yellow blobs. In red letters it read Happy 62nd Anniversary, Houghs. The words 62nd and Anniversary were crossed off with blue icing and the words b-day Chance" were scribbled just above it. The name Houghs remained on the cake untouched.

Mr. Pilsner looked at her and exclaimed, You can’t think an outstanding citizen such as myself can perform miracles, do you? I have a business to run here. I can’t give my pastries away to every charity case that passes through. With that, he took all of Mrs. Poorman’s money and went back inside without giving her a second glance.

Mrs. Poorman was a little sad that she didn’t have enough money to buy Chance a toy, but she was pleased with the cake. As she started to walk back home, she noticed something shining on the ground. The sun was just beginning to peek through the smog-clouded buildings and shone perfectly on one of the coins she had dropped earlier. She picked up the coin and started for home.

When she was almost halfway home, she came upon a tall street merchant who was spouting off about his wares. He saw Mrs. Poorman and stepped in front of her, towering above her, blocking her path. The merchant looked like he was poorer than she was. She could smell that he was in need of a bath, and the cloak he was wearing was tattered and torn.

The merchant was completely concealed by the cloak except for his eyes. The most unusual eyes she had ever seen. They were an odd green, and his pupils were rectangle in shape.

The merchant had a look in his strange green eyes, as though he knew something that she didn’t, and he pulled out a box that he wanted to show her. He was very persistent, and, feeling that she had little choice, she agreed to look at what he had to offer. He opened the box, which was full of whistles, balls, and yoyos. Out of curiosity Mrs. Poorman picked up a bright red yoyo and asked him the price. She was amazed to find out that the coin she carried was more than enough to pay for the yoyo. She was so happy to know she would be able to get Chance a toy after all. She handed the merchant the coin and said, I will take this red one.

He replied sadly in a sandpapery voice, I am sorry, my dear lady, but I am not able to make change. Then his eyes lit up. But I’ll make you a good deal. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a very old and worn-looking blue yoyo. It was different from the others. It was carefully carved from strong wood instead of molded from cheap plastic and had once been painted blue. The blue paint was wearing away and looked worn and smeary.

The stranger told her it was the best yoyo he had. Don’t let the appearance fool you, he said. It is old and worn, but it will outlast these other plastic ones. Then he offered to give her a strange silver whistle as well. Mrs. Poorman was overjoyed. She couldn’t believe what wonderful luck she was having. Not only did she have a cake for Chance, but she had two gifts to give him as well. She told the merchant he had himself a deal and thanked him. The merchant put the yoyo and whistle into a black velvet bag with a drawstring top and handed it to her. He thanked her for taking the time to look and for her kindness. Thank you again, my lady, he said, and then he clomped across the street with a little wave.

Mrs. Poorman was so happy that she started to hum Happy Birthday as she started for home again. After walking two blocks, she thought of the merchant’s strange green eyes with their rectangular pupils. She had never met anyone with such strange, mysterious green eyes. She thought of his raspy voice. That wasn’t so strange with all the smog in the air. But wait a minute—he had clomped across the street. Strange, she thought. People no longer wore wooden shoes in this day and age. But he was so poor, perhaps wooden shoes were all he could afford. She looked back to where the merchant was last standing, but he was gone. Puzzled, she started for home once again.

When she reached the apartment, she was happy to find that both Chance and Mr. Poorman were finishing up a late breakfast.

She put the crumpled box on the plywood counter in the kitchen and joined them at the table. She told Chance that today was his special day and kissed his forehead. Chance asked where she had been and what was in the box he saw her bring in. She told him again that today was his special day and nothing was too good for her little boy. She winked at Mr. Poorman to let him know that she had gotten Chance something, just as they had talked about the previous night.

Relieved, Mr. Poorman told Chance that today they were going to celebrate his seventh birthday. Chance looked at them hesitantly and asked, What’s a birthday?

The Poormans explained that a birthday was an annual celebration of your birth, and because Chance was around two years old when he came to live with them, he had to be around seven years old now. They didn’t know what day his actual birth was, so they decided to make the day they found him his birthday.

Other kids celebrated birthdays at school. Chance had always wondered what exactly a birthday was and why he never celebrated one, but he realized it was because the Poormans were too poor.

Mrs. Poorman got up and got the crumpled box from the counter and brought it to the table. She told Chance that she had gone to town and got it specially for him.

At first Chance tried peeking into the box, but the lighting was so poor he couldn’t see anything. He opened the box all the way and was so surprised by the cake that he didn’t even seem to notice that it was a modified cake. He was so thrilled that it had his name on it that he jumped up from the table and hugged Mrs. Poorman. He looked at Mr. Poorman and said, It has my name on it! Did you see? Chance was so happy that he didn’t notice Mrs. Poorman slip the black velvet bag to Mr. Poorman.

Mr. Poorman said, That’s not all, son.

Chance looked at him with wide-eyed amazement and asked, There’s more?

Mr. Poorman handed Chance the black velvet bag and said, Happy birthday, Chance. Chance could hardly believe it. First cake and now a gift? He opened the bag and found the whistle. He put it to his mouth and blew, but no sound came out. Mrs. Poorman burst into tears, muttering something about wishing she could have gotten something better. Chance put a small hand on her shoulder and assured her that he loved it even if it didn’t whistle.

Chance reached into the bag again and pulled out the blue yoyo. He smiled from ear to ear. He tried the yoyo and realized he would need to practice to make it work properly. He wound the string back up and tried again. As the yoyo unwound, he noticed a glimmer of light. This was no ordinary yoyo. For the first time Mrs. Poorman had the feeling that the merchant with the strange green eyes was no ordinary merchant.

Mr. and Mrs. Poorman were so pleased that they were able to give Chance a good birthday. They sat quietly at the table and watched Chance playing with his new toys—his only toys.

After some time had passed, Chance came back to the table to enjoy some cake with the Poormans and listen to Mr. Poorman tell the story of how they found him.

Mrs. Poorman served the cake to everyone and placed a full glass of milk in front of Chance and a cup of black coffee each in front of Mr. Poorman and herself. Then Mr. Poorman told the tale of how they found Chance.

How Chance Came to Live with the Poormans

Five years ago today, Mr. and Mrs. Poorman decided to go for a walk in the afternoon. They decided to go past the train station and walk out onto the only piece of clear land in the city, which was now a landfill. They wanted to avoid any Littleton citizens and get away from the smog and filth of the city. It was a warm, sunny afternoon, and the countryside was beautiful. They took their shoes off and rolled up their pants to wade through a small brook. Once on the other side they could see nothing but prairie all around them. They could only see the very tallest buildings and the hazy smog over Littleton from here. The prairie was full of long grass and patches of yellow and white flowers. Mrs. Poorman was picking some flowers along the way to put in the penholder that had been left in their apartment when they moved in. The penholder had once been used by the ticket collector to hold pens that he used for the record book he kept. Mrs. Poorman now used it as a vase. The flowers would brighten their dismal apartment. As they walked along, they tried to avoid walking into any green thistles—not because they had thorns that would puncture their skin but because they stained skin and clothing an inky green that would not wash off clothes and that took weeks to come off skin. Just as they were about to change direction and circle back home, they spotted a baby asleep on a grassy mound with flowers all around him. They tried to wake the baby, but he was in such a deep sleep that he didn’t even budge. They noticed that his clothes and skin were covered with the green, inky substance from the thistles. Mr. Poorman carried him home gently in his arms. Once there, he made the baby a small bed in the pantry off the kitchen.

Mrs. Poorman stripped off the baby’s clothes and washed him as he slept. The green inky substance was around his right wrist, right shoulder, the right side of his back and up onto his neck just below his right ear. Puzzled, Mrs. Poorman noticed the green substance had not stained his clothes on his right side, and some of the substance was on skin that was covered with clothes. The baby was so small it was a wonder how he had gotten so far into the prairie. He slept all through the day and night and awoke the following morning.

When he awoke, he was terrified. He kept making strange grunting sounds and looking all around him with wild eyes. He backed himself into a wall and was standing in a position ready to fight.

Mrs. Poorman was surprised that the baby could walk. He was so small that she had thought he was a baby, but she soon realized he was a boy. A very small boy. She spoke to him in a soft voice, trying to calm him and help him to understand that he wasn’t in any danger. Once he started to calm down, he took one step away from the wall toward Mrs. Poorman. He started to make those weird, grunting noises again, looking at her as if he were talking. The boy put his hands around his neck, and Mrs. Poorman understood that he was looking for his clothes. She told the boy that she had taken them off so she could wash them, and they were hanging outside drying. He didn’t seem to understand. She pointed to the door and said, Come with me. She escorted the small boy out into the corridor and up the metal stairs that were to the left of their gray, rusted door. At the top of the steps was another gray, rusted door that had a sign reading Condemned. Underneath the sign the word Roof had been painted.

They went through the door and out onto the roof of the building. There was a narrow walkway in front of them. Growing on each side of the walkway were plants in long narrow boxes. Vegetables grew all down that narrow path. They walked down the path between the plants and came to a small clearing where the boy’s clothes were hanging on a clothesline. To the right of the clearing were three large pots, each containing a tree. To the left were several medium-size pots holding very tall sunflowers. Behind the sunflowers you could see a large hole in the side of the building. Large, metal support beams were visible protruding from the hole. Hanging from these support beams were bird houses and feeders crafted from used milk cartons and other various plastic containers. Flowers grew in hanging baskets that were hung all over the roof in beautiful vibrant colors. It was an amazing site in such a dismal city.

The boy ran right to