“Ping Pong Ball” by William Lewis

One day a lovely baby boy was brought into this world, on June 23, 1989. This boy was the best thing for the family, at the time. After many countless nights of sleep and fighting, the parents decided to get a divorce. This boy was left in the custody of his father.

When the boy was old enough to talk the father asked him on his birthday, “What do you want for your birthday?”

“I want ping pong ball,” the boy said with drool dripping out of his mouth.

“That’s wonderful.”

When the boy got his present he was overjoyed and told his father he couldn’t wait for his next birthday.

Three years passed and the boy was now five and attending pre-school. His birthday was approaching and the day before the father asked, “What do you want for your birthday.”

“I want a case of ping pong balls, the plain white ones, like you get me every year.”

“I’ve finally stopped trying to fight you about what you want, so I will grant your wish of a case of ping pong balls.”

“Thank you so much dad I really appreciate it.”

When he got the case of balls he spread them out across the lawn and just looked at them admiring their colorless white shade. The father was worried but couldn’t complain because he knew his son was happy.

Five years passed and the boy was now ten. He was doing very well in school and was the pride and joy of his father’s life. The son’s birthday was coming around the corner and the father needed to know what the boy wanted. “So what do you want for your birthday?”

“I want my room filled with ping pong balls, all the way to the top.”

The father looked at his son with a confused look on his face that clearly said, why do you want your room filled with ping pong balls? But without arguing he agreed to do it.

When the boy turned twenty-two the father came to his and asked. “What do you want for your birthday?”

“I want a house made out of ping pong balls, with a nice car made out of ping pong balls as well.

The father still confused at why he wanted such bizarre gifts, still agreed to get him what he wanted.

One day when the boy was driving in his ping pong ball car, from his job at the ping pong ball factory, to his ping pong ball house, he got a call. He looked at his phone to see his father calling. He ignored it because he was almost home anyway. As he looked up from the phone he saw a truck on the wrong side of the road hit him on the front of his car.

The people around called 911 and he was rushed to the hospital.

After thirty long minutes waiting in his room, his father arrived, crying.

“How could this happen,” he sobbed. “Why did the trucker have to be an alcoholic?”

“It is okay dad. I’m going to be fine.”

A doctor walked in a told the father the news. Behind the curtain the boy could hear that he had only an hour to live. Apparently the crash was really bad.

The father comes back into the room and sits down next to his son. They hold hands and talk of the wonderful moments they had together. The father looked at the clock and saw only five minutes left.

“So I have a question for you.”

“What is it”, the son replied.”

“Why did you get ping pong balls for your birthday, you could have had anything.”

“The reason I wanted ping pong balls,” he says in short gasps. “Is because…”

And the line goes dead, and the boy died.

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