The Rolling Eye 
                by Don Drewniak 
                Suggested:
                Read The Rolling Nickel before reading the
                following story. 
                It was about 7:00PM
                four days after Manny mooned the churchgoers. I
                was part of a group playing cards in the big tent
                opposite the one in which I was staying. In the
                group was a kid named Bill who was thirteen-years
                old and about my size.  
                 
                We stopped playing when one of the kids said,
                Hey, Bill, whats wrong with your eye? 
                 
                It's a glass eye. 
                 
                Of course, everyone stopped to look at Bills
                eyes. Sure enough, one of them looked different
                than a regular eye. 
                 
                A glass eye? asked one of the scouts. 
                 
                Yep, replied Bill. 
                 
                Then came a truly dumb question from another one
                of the group. Can you see out of it? 
                 
                No. 
                 
                What happened to your real eye? 
                 
                It got infected and it had to be removed.
                 
                 
                Oh, sorry. 
                 
                Thats okay. 
                 
                Next came a game changing question from a third
                member of the group. Can we see it? 
                 
                Sure. 
                 
                With that, Bill put his hands up to his eye,
                fiddled around a bit, and there it was in the
                palm of his right hand. It was round and white
                with a blue circle for a pupil. We all examined
                it. 
                 
                Can we look inside your head? asked
                the same kid who wanted to see the eye. 
                 
                If youre brave enough. 
                 
                I wasnt. Only two were. As the question kid
                bounced up to look inside Bills head, he
                accidentally knocked the eye out of Bills
                hand.  
                 
                Clink!  
                 
                Next came a protracted rolling sound. Then
                nothing. 
                 
                Dont move! yelled Bill. 
                 
                We froze as he dropped to his knees and began to
                look around.  
                 
                See it? someone asked. 
                 
                No, came a worried reply.  
                 
                You sure? 
                 
                Of course Im sure, you dope. 
                 
                Hey! 
                 
                After crawling around with no luck, he asked the
                rest of us to help. But go slow and be
                careful and someone please gimmie a flashlight. 
                 
                One of the kids opened his trunk (we all had
                trunks with locks) and pulled out a flashlight.
                Here. 
                 
                Bill grabbed the light and pointed it at a
                knothole that was about an inch in diameter. it
                was close to impossible to point the light into
                the hole and look into it at the same time. Not
                only that, but the light only covered two or
                three inches in each direction.  
                 
                No eye in sight. We tried fishing with a bunch of
                different sticks. No eye. 
                 
                I suggested we get Scoutmaster King. Off went two
                of the posse. 
                 
                Whats the problem, men? asked
                the Scoutmaster. We all began speaking at the
                same time. 
                 
                Whoa, just one of you. 
                 
                Bill proceeded to explain what happened. 
                 
                After asking for the flashlight (it was really
                more of a demand), King scoured the lantern-lit
                floor. Nothing. Next, he peered into the hole.
                Nothing. Then he tried fishing. Nothing. He
                headed out of the tent telling us that he would
                be back. 
                 
                He returned in short order with the two
                assistants. Each of them tried their luck to no
                avail. They held a small conference before King
                said, Okay, men, carry everything out of
                the tent. 
                 
                There goes the night. 
                 
                By then, all the scouts were in the tent, so the
                emptying was completed quickly. Next came the
                disassembling of the tent. The tent seemingly
                objected to being pulled apart and fought us the
                entire time. Finally, there was nothing left
                except the platform. 
                 
                The plan as presented to us was that the
                assistant scoutmasters would stand at either end
                of the front of the platform. All of the scouts
                would fill the space between them. On a count of
                three from Scoutmaster King, we would lift the
                platform just high enough for him to put jacks
                from the pickup trucks under the front support
                beam. The jacks could then be used to lift the
                front high enough to let one of the scoutmasters
                crawl under the platform and retrieve the runaway
                eye. 
                 
                Hey, Dad, interjected Johnny, wouldnt
                it have been easier to just pry up the board with
                the knothole? 
                 
                Silence dominated for about ten seconds. 
                 
                Why the f
, began Scoutmaster
                King. 
                 
                I was convinced Johnny knew the easy solution all
                along, but purposely kept it to himself. That
                gave me a measure of confidence that he would get
                us to the Girl Scouts camp. 
                 
                The knothole board was pried up. A flashlight
                search immediately revealed the eye to be about
                five inches from where it had rolled into the
                hole. 
                Part 3 - Rolling Over 
                Return To This
                Writer's Story List And Biography 
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