It was quite a common September afternoon – soft, tranquil, with a hint of autumn dampening the rhythmic breeze that waltzed down the streets of Brooklyn. Occasionally, the children, a young boy and girl, would jadedly look up at the greying sky from the brown-bricked stoop they were perched at.
At their backs was the orphanage they grew up in. It was their home, despite the few strict Nuns that resided beyond the shut door, currently keeping them out. In fact, one of the nuns placed them out here to begin with. For what reason? The children don’t remember – probably was from the argument the boy and girl had a few minutes ago.
Then again, the two children did fight often. The boy, who often fashioned mischief that personified his immaturity, was intolerable to the clever, sensible girl that was often referred to as “the goody two-shoes” of the home. In fact, the only reason the girl gets into trouble to begin with is for when she tries to criticize the boy for his actions, which tends to erupt into an exchange of name-calling and yelling.
The boy’s playful eyes eventually caught sight of a bright red balloon, drifting above the buildings in its descent to earth. It was quite noticeable against the ashen sky, yet the girl paid no mind to its existence. The balloon drifted past them, making it’s way to the tar surface of the street before the autumn zephyr scooped it up. The balloon’s journey seemed to repeat in this pentameter.
Adventurously, the boy stood up and declared for the both of them to chase after the balloon. Before the girl would respond, the boy was already making his way off the stoop and down the road. Looking behind her, the girl witnessed that the nuns did not notice the boy’s quite audible announcement of his escapade. Frustrated and feeling somewhat responsible of the boy’s wellbeing, she pursued after the boy.
The balloon took the children throughout the streets, down an alleyway, and eventually across a park. All the while, the girl was yelling at the boy, attempting to falter his determination. It was all for naught; the boy’s mind had tunnel-vision on the alluring, floating red sphere that drifted over a black iron, spiked fence.
While chasing the balloon, the children suddenly stopped. In their wake lied the entrance of the land of the dead, where the deceased attempted to rest in the taciturn, pale city of mausoleums and tombstones -- the neighborhood cemetery, Resting in it’s heart was the red balloon, hitched upon the broken wing of a stone angel statue.
Hugging himself slightly, the now uncertain boy made his way into the cemetery. His once adventurous thoughts became warped with fear, corrupted by the memories of scary stories he was told. The wind howled in his ears as the cold bit at his cheeks and fingertips. With each step, the angel seemed to back away from the boy as the red balloon beckoned him forward. The girl hurried behind the boy, so afraid to be alone that she left her mature demeanor behind.
As they stepped in front of the angel, they peered up at the apple-colored balloon that loomed over their heads. The stone angel, who gazed upon the children through praying hands, seemed to keep the balloon just out of reach. Despite the angel’s attempts to keep the forbidden balloon out of his grasp, the boy reached up on his toes. Grabbing the string, he was able to pull the balloon down.
Suddenly, a hand fell upon both of the children’s shoulders, turning them around aggressively. It was one of the nuns, adorning an anger-stricken face that was more crimson than the balloon itself. The startled children looked at their nun as they released the balloon out of fear, returning it back to the sky.
The pilgrimage home consisted of the nun pulling along the children, scolding them each moment she could for running off. The girl sighed and looked at the boy with blame as she tried to convince the nun it wasn’t her fault. The boy, however, stayed silent as he thought about his day. He didn’t understand how something he desired, a playful red balloon, so easily led him astray from his home and into a eerie cemetery, only to get reprimanded for it after by one of the nuns.
That night, the boy found himself staring out the window by his bunk bed, surrounded by dreaming orphans. Looking at the white stars and serene moon, he wondered where that balloon ended up; and, what child the balloon would tempt next.