Harold Grayson

Harold was not the brightest child to ever walk across Allentown Elementary School's formerly lush lawns. He did, however, posses an imagination of gigantic proportions- far more vast then even the Grand Canyon or what Harold imagined the vastness of the Grand Canyon to be since he had never been outside of Allentown, population 2, 034. Something about the numbers in the population sign always bothered Harold and when his mother drove them into town, he would stare at the numbers as they flashed past and he would imagine that they instead read 1,234 or 2,345. Harold like precision and order. That 0 thrown into the population could end up causing chaos, one never knew. If a psychologist ever stopped to talk to Harold they would be pleasantly perplexed by the presence of both a high trend towards anal retentiveness and an astounding imagination.

Take for example the afternoon two weeks prior in which Harold had been lucky enough to stumble upon a beat up dollar bill twisted and caught up in the chain link surrounding the school's edge. He had been walking the perimeter of the school because it was PE time and Harold was NOT fond of physical energy, exercise, education or any other e that expended effort. That his mother was often found at the sewing machine adding elastic to his pants was a testament to this. The dollar bill was no longer expending energy either. It was twisted and torn and stuck between the chain link and the plywood school administrators had tacked onto the fence to keep predators from looking in. When Harold thought of predators he imagined giant black panthers slowly stalking through the bushes golden eyes flashing on the children of Allentown Elementary like spotlights emerging from giant black depths. These were not the kind of predators school administrators envisioned- not that there were really any predators of the other variety around either as Allentown was rather a safe haven, but one never knew and George Bussey the Principal was fond of late night law dramas.

Harold paused in his shuffling around the field to get down on his hands and knees to secure his prize and as he did a great tearing was heard. Harold shook his head and crawled deeper into the bushes to hide his torn pants from the others. His mother was going to tan his hide for ruining another pair of pants but this didn't really bother him as he had greater things to worry about such as the masked murderer who had escaped from jail. Clearly the man had robbed the local Allentown branch of the Pine Hills Credit Union to secure funding for his escape down to the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico- Harold had watched a travel channel show on Tulum in Quintana Roo and was convinced that all escaped criminals with bank robbing tendencies ended up down there like that accountant who killed his wife in that movie made from that book by that scary author. After robbing the Allentown branch of the Pine Hills Credit Union, the escaped murderer must have dropped this beat up old dollar while making his way to the edge of town where his getaway car and mob daughter girlfriend were waiting for him. Harold breathed a sigh of relief realizing that the murderer was probably already halfway to Tulum and therefore wouldn't really care if Harold pocketed this one beat up dollar bill.

"Harold? Harold Grayson? Where'd you get off to son?" The PE teacher Coach Brown yelled out for Harold while crashing through the bushes. Ellen Jennings had been a looker back in the day and Coach Brown's junior year sweetheart but then that good for nothing Pete Grayson had come into town and a few months later Ellen was barefoot, pregnant and sporting a new last name. Coach Brown shook his head wondering how such a pretty and smart girl like her had ended up with such a bone head good for nothing son just as he stumbled across the aforementioned boy.

"Oh. Harold there you are. Whatcha got there a buck? Well, put it in your pocket son...wait a minute. Harold have you split your pants again? Boy you are going to get a whipping from your mamma! Well...come on, here you can tie my jacket around your waist till after school."

Harold Grayson happily marched after Coach Brown a rather large red and white track jacket drooping from his waist the arms practically dragging alongside his scuffed up sneakers. Harold held his prize in his hand and wondered if there were Credit Unions in Tulum and if so hoped that they closed up shop when they saw the notorious escaped convict murderer who liked to rob banks coming into town.

"Harold come on boy get your head out of the clouds and get over here. I've got other classes to teach."

Harold continued on at the same pace as a man with prison tattoos and cash falling out of his pocket stood with his gal on the beaches of Tulum watching the sun set.