The Monkey’s Paw Writing Assignment Thomas Movald
November 21, 2012
It was a scorching day in India. I was eight years old and walking through the market getting groceries for my mother. I had gotten everything but a watermelon. I went to the fruit and vegetable stand to get the perfect watermelon that my mother had requested. The kind, old man that worked at and owned the stand, Saeed, had an unusual smirk on his face.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Oh nothing.” he said but I could tell that by the tone of his voice, he was holding something back.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“Mother wants a watermelon.” I said. I went around to the other side of the stand to where the watermelons were, and as I Reached for a full, juicy looking one; I noticed a necklace hanging from the thatch roof.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“That’s the beholders fate.” he said.
“Well what does it do?”
The old man leaned in close and whispered, “It can give three men three wishes” he said.
“Did you make it” I asked, knowing that he was an old religious man that believed in magic.
“Yes” he said. “I made it to show people that everything comes with a price.”
“I want it” I snapped. Saeed said that I couldn’t have it, but as I paid him for the watermelon I snatched it and ran.
On the short walk home, I examined it the thing and upon further investigation, concluded that it was a monkey’s paw.
When I got home my mother was cooking dinner. I gave her the watermelon and ran upstairs to my room.
To be honest, I don’t even know why I ran to my room because when I got there; I turned right back around and went down the stairs again to ask my mother a question. I asked
Her when my father, Raoule would be getting home from work.
“Oh I forgot to tell you, he has to work late tonight.” She said.
With the monkey’s paw in my hand, I threw up my arms and said, “I wish that my dad would come home from work early one night.” Suddenly there was a mysterious yet familiar sounding knock at the door.
“I wonder who that could be.” asked my mother in her usual chipper state. When my mother opened the door, there stood my father, Raoule Fernandez, a man with so much wisdom and pride that not even the most hellish things neither scare nor frighten him.
“Oh Raoule!” exclaimed my mother. “You told me that you had to work late tonight.” She said cheerfully.
“Well I did but the things that I had to do, had already been done by someone else. I couldn’t help coming home; I didn’t want to be away from my son any longer. Come here you.” He said holding out his arms to me.
As I ran to my father’s arms, my heart jumped for joy.
“Dad?” I asked.
“What son?” he asked back.
“Can we go outside and play soccer?”
“Sure. Why not?” As we went outside, my mother went back to the stove to finish cooking dinner. My dad and I played outside until my mother called us in for dinner.
Dinner was Tamarind Rice and Masala Dosa
“So how was everyone’s day?” asked my father. At the same time my mother and I said “GOOD!”
“Well that’s good” my dad had said.
After dinner we were all cleaning off the table and had just started to do the dishes when my mother told us to go play cards and that she could do the rest.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Absolutely!” she declared, grinning to herself. My father suggested that we play Dehla Pakad. I didn’t disagree with his suggestion> I always beat my dad at this game.
We were two or three rounds in when my mother came to join us. The game always gets harder when my mom joins in. She always and I mean always, can see points that we miss and collects them for herself.
On the last round of the game I somehow ended up with all of the tens and won. This I think, is the first time that my mother has ever lost at this game.
While we were playing, the time must have slipped away on us because it was now very late and even though there was no school tomorrow, I liked to get a good night’s sleep.
In the middle of the night, in getting up to go to the bathroom, I noticed my father laying on the floor of my parent’s room. I walked in and tapped my father’s shoulder. No response.
I woke my mom and got her to check my father. She checked for pulse, nothing. She checked for breathing, nothing. She looked up at me and whispered, in a teary state, he’s dead.
“How could this be” I said under my breath. My father the great Raoule Fernandez was dead.
The next few weeks passed in surprisingly rapid succession. Before we buried my father we had an autopsy done. The doctors said that he had a heart attack.
On the day of my father’s funeral, I wept tears of regret. I should have listened to the man and not been so greedy. “Everything comes with a price.” These five words, that mean more than they say, chanted in my head.
I had my first and only son fifteen years after that. His name was Ravi.
One day when my son came home from school he had a shiner on his eye.
“What happened?” I asked. Obviously he didn’t want to talk because he went straight to his room when I asked him this. The thought of this bugged me until dinner. He opened up over supper. He told his ma and I how there has been this bully picking on him for a while. My wife suggested that I should go and talk to the teacher; I had a better idea.
Late that night when the house was asleep, I got out of bed and took the paw out of the drawer that it had been kept in for the last 20 years. I thought for a minute before I held up the paw and said, “I wish that this bully would stop picking on my son and causing him grief.”
The next day, I got home from work early and before my wife or my son got home. I had waited for well over 2 hours when the telephone rang. It was the police. They said that my wife and son had been shot and killed. They said that a man had tried to rob them and when my wife refused to give him money he shot her and the bullet went right through her and into my son’s head.
When I arrived on the scene I realized how bad it was. Army officials were on the scene as well. When soldiers asked me what happened, I said that I had no idea. In the back of my mind I knew this was an absolute lie.
I took one specific sergeant by the name of Morris, and told him about the paw. I told him about how I got the paw and I told him how the paw had killed my father, wife and son. I said that the paw could give three men three wishes and that I was the first one. Lastly, I told him about the old man and his words of wisdom and how there was nothing left for me in this world and that I was going to wish to die on this spot. The sergeant promised me that he would destroy the paw.
With the paw in my hand I lifted both of my hands as high as they could reach and said, “I wish to die instantly.”
As my soul rose to the heavens, I watched the sergeant pick up the paw off of my stone dead bodies hand and pocket it. I knew that he would wish all three times and sacrifice three things or more. If only people weren’t so greedy.
November 21, 2012
It was a scorching day in India. I was eight years old and walking through the market getting groceries for my mother. I had gotten everything but a watermelon. I went to the fruit and vegetable stand to get the perfect watermelon that my mother had requested. The kind, old man that worked at and owned the stand, Saeed, had an unusual smirk on his face.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Oh nothing.” he said but I could tell that by the tone of his voice, he was holding something back.
“What do you need?” he asked.
“Mother wants a watermelon.” I said. I went around to the other side of the stand to where the watermelons were, and as I Reached for a full, juicy looking one; I noticed a necklace hanging from the thatch roof.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“That’s the beholders fate.” he said.
“Well what does it do?”
The old man leaned in close and whispered, “It can give three men three wishes” he said.
“Did you make it” I asked, knowing that he was an old religious man that believed in magic.
“Yes” he said. “I made it to show people that everything comes with a price.”
“I want it” I snapped. Saeed said that I couldn’t have it, but as I paid him for the watermelon I snatched it and ran.
On the short walk home, I examined it the thing and upon further investigation, concluded that it was a monkey’s paw.
When I got home my mother was cooking dinner. I gave her the watermelon and ran upstairs to my room.
To be honest, I don’t even know why I ran to my room because when I got there; I turned right back around and went down the stairs again to ask my mother a question. I asked
Her when my father, Raoule would be getting home from work.
“Oh I forgot to tell you, he has to work late tonight.” She said.
With the monkey’s paw in my hand, I threw up my arms and said, “I wish that my dad would come home from work early one night.” Suddenly there was a mysterious yet familiar sounding knock at the door.
“I wonder who that could be.” asked my mother in her usual chipper state. When my mother opened the door, there stood my father, Raoule Fernandez, a man with so much wisdom and pride that not even the most hellish things neither scare nor frighten him.
“Oh Raoule!” exclaimed my mother. “You told me that you had to work late tonight.” She said cheerfully.
“Well I did but the things that I had to do, had already been done by someone else. I couldn’t help coming home; I didn’t want to be away from my son any longer. Come here you.” He said holding out his arms to me.
As I ran to my father’s arms, my heart jumped for joy.
“Dad?” I asked.
“What son?” he asked back.
“Can we go outside and play soccer?”
“Sure. Why not?” As we went outside, my mother went back to the stove to finish cooking dinner. My dad and I played outside until my mother called us in for dinner.
Dinner was Tamarind Rice and Masala Dosa
“So how was everyone’s day?” asked my father. At the same time my mother and I said “GOOD!”
“Well that’s good” my dad had said.
After dinner we were all cleaning off the table and had just started to do the dishes when my mother told us to go play cards and that she could do the rest.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Absolutely!” she declared, grinning to herself. My father suggested that we play Dehla Pakad. I didn’t disagree with his suggestion> I always beat my dad at this game.
We were two or three rounds in when my mother came to join us. The game always gets harder when my mom joins in. She always and I mean always, can see points that we miss and collects them for herself.
On the last round of the game I somehow ended up with all of the tens and won. This I think, is the first time that my mother has ever lost at this game.
While we were playing, the time must have slipped away on us because it was now very late and even though there was no school tomorrow, I liked to get a good night’s sleep.
In the middle of the night, in getting up to go to the bathroom, I noticed my father laying on the floor of my parent’s room. I walked in and tapped my father’s shoulder. No response.
I woke my mom and got her to check my father. She checked for pulse, nothing. She checked for breathing, nothing. She looked up at me and whispered, in a teary state, he’s dead.
“How could this be” I said under my breath. My father the great Raoule Fernandez was dead.
The next few weeks passed in surprisingly rapid succession. Before we buried my father we had an autopsy done. The doctors said that he had a heart attack.
On the day of my father’s funeral, I wept tears of regret. I should have listened to the man and not been so greedy. “Everything comes with a price.” These five words, that mean more than they say, chanted in my head.
I had my first and only son fifteen years after that. His name was Ravi.
One day when my son came home from school he had a shiner on his eye.
“What happened?” I asked. Obviously he didn’t want to talk because he went straight to his room when I asked him this. The thought of this bugged me until dinner. He opened up over supper. He told his ma and I how there has been this bully picking on him for a while. My wife suggested that I should go and talk to the teacher; I had a better idea.
Late that night when the house was asleep, I got out of bed and took the paw out of the drawer that it had been kept in for the last 20 years. I thought for a minute before I held up the paw and said, “I wish that this bully would stop picking on my son and causing him grief.”
The next day, I got home from work early and before my wife or my son got home. I had waited for well over 2 hours when the telephone rang. It was the police. They said that my wife and son had been shot and killed. They said that a man had tried to rob them and when my wife refused to give him money he shot her and the bullet went right through her and into my son’s head.
When I arrived on the scene I realized how bad it was. Army officials were on the scene as well. When soldiers asked me what happened, I said that I had no idea. In the back of my mind I knew this was an absolute lie.
I took one specific sergeant by the name of Morris, and told him about the paw. I told him about how I got the paw and I told him how the paw had killed my father, wife and son. I said that the paw could give three men three wishes and that I was the first one. Lastly, I told him about the old man and his words of wisdom and how there was nothing left for me in this world and that I was going to wish to die on this spot. The sergeant promised me that he would destroy the paw.
With the paw in my hand I lifted both of my hands as high as they could reach and said, “I wish to die instantly.”
As my soul rose to the heavens, I watched the sergeant pick up the paw off of my stone dead bodies hand and pocket it. I knew that he would wish all three times and sacrifice three things or more. If only people weren’t so greedy.