For What It's Worth

It was a drizzly day in the town of Persopolis. Carl was bored; he couldn't go outside and play catch with his friends. He had been so excited to show Davy, Mike, and Seth his new, autographed baseball. But he woke up this morning to see the gray blanket of clouds that lay across the city that caused the pitter-patter of raindrops against his window.

So Carl simply sat on his bed, wearing his baseball has, just in case the sun came out. He turned the ball in his hands, reading the names of the players written there. Occasionally he would toss it up and down a few times before examining the cursive letters once more.

Carl's stomach rumbled. He suddenly realized that in his haste to get dressed this morning (so that he could run out as soon as the rain stopped) he'd forgotten to eat breakfast. Sighing, he slid off the bed and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

His mom had gone to get a haircut, but she'd left out some food for Carl: bread and butter for toast and orange juice to drink. Withing minutes Carl had devoured these but his stomach still begged for food. Something was missing from the meal... then it hit him. Carl was missing his apple. Every morning Carl had one piece of fruit and the only fruit he really like was an apple. He looked all around the kitchen, searching for the finishing touch to his breakfast, but the fruit bowl was no where insight. It occurred to him that his mom must have forgotten to take it down from the shelf, and sure enough, he could barely see the lip of it sticking out over the top shelf.
Grumbling, he stared up at it, tapping his foot impatiently. He then approached the counter and climed on top of it. He stood on his tippy-toes and stretched upward. Even then only his fingertips touched the bottom of the bowl. Disappointed, he climbed back down and started thinking again... he could use a stool from the bar in the basement. He trudged downstairs, grabbed a stool and lugged it back up to the kitchen. Standing on top of it he couldn't even reach the shelf - another failed attempt.

He sat down on the the stool puzzled... how could he get up there? His stomach made another pitiful moan - he had to get that apple. Then he remembered: there was a stepping stool in the laundry room - it was taller than the counter plus he could get on top of it easily. He retrieved it and placed it directly under the bowl. Slowly he climbed up the steps until, still one step from the top, he was able to reach the bowl. He placed his hands around it and lifted, but it didn't budge. He tried again, pushing underneath it, but to no avail. It was too heavy for Carl to pick up.

No matter, he thought, he could simply take the apple back down with him - that would save him the trouble of having to put the bowl back later anyway. He started to grab the apple but felt the bowl begin to tip so he let go and the apple fell back into the bowl; it steadied. Carl tried rolling the apple out the side but the bowl continued to rock so he stopped. Clearly the bowl was off balance; what could he use to replace the weight of the apple? His stomach growled - he needed that apple, and soon.

Then it came to him, though it was an unfortunate thought. His baseball, his priceless, autographed baseball, was the same size, same shape, and roughly the same weight as the apple. He slowly pulled it out of his pocket and stared at it. Could he give this up? Could he sacrifice something so valuable to him? His belly reminded him at that moment that sometimes food is of more worth than material things. Carefully Carl held the baseball slightly above the bowl with one hand and placed the other hand on the apple. With one fluid movement he swapped the two without the bowl rocking an inch. At last, he had his apple. He stared at it with admiration and pride as he made his way down the step stool. When he made it to the bottom he took one, huge bit out of the apple, causing juice to run down his chin. Licking his lips, he glanced back up at the fruit bowl, wondering if it was worth it. Sucking the juice out of the second bite, he decided yes.