The Pony, part 2
The story continues
Now we get to the fun part of the assignment: starting an argument between the two characters. Here goes …
Steve was late getting home. First, there were those two customers who decided to buy exercisers at the last minute, and their orders had to be written up. Then he'd been called into Mr. Orvis' office for a private conference. And then there'd been that important business of getting Rachel's birthday present. That took even longer than he had thought it would.
At the sound of Steve's key rattling in the lock, Rachel jumped off the bed and ran to the front door. "Daddy! Did you get my pony?"
Steve tossed the Kay-Bee shopping bag onto the sofa next to Lisa and picked Rachel up. "Happy birthday, Princess. How've you been?"
"Where's my pony? You didn't forget?"
"Daddy would never forget his Princess' birthday, now, would he?" He put Rachel down and picked up the bag. "But you'll have to wait until after supper for your present."
"You didn't get my pony."
"Shut up," Emily said. "I can't hear the TV."
Steve started toward the master bedroom. Rachel followed. "You didn't get my pony!"
"Rachel, Princess, you know we can't get a pony unless Daddy gets a raise."
"You got the Nintendo for Lisa. You got the Barbie Dream House for Emily. You like them better than me."
"No, Princess, you know that's not true – "
"You hate me!"
"Wait a minute – "
"They get what they want. I want my pony!"
"Princess, I told you – "
"I want my pony! I hate you!" Rachel charged at Steve, pounding her fist into his stomach. Taken by surprise, he dropped the bag. As it bounced off the corner of the bed, it tipped over and a cardboard carton fell to the floor. Rachel turned and looked at it. About a foot wide and nine inches tall, it had a picture of a tan-and-white pony and the words "Misty of Chincoteague Gift Set."
Steve knelt down to face Rachel. "I know it's not a real pony. But it's a really pretty model, not a silly toy. And I can read to you from the book after supper. It was one of Mommy's favorite books when she was a little girl."
"No! I want a real pony!" Tears streamed down her face.
"Princess – "
Rachel picked up the box. "I hate it! I hate you! I hate Mommy!"
So fast that neither Steve nor Rachel saw it, Steve's hand snapped out and smacked across Rachel's face.
"I hate you!" Rachel flung the box at Steve's head. Steve ducked and the box glanced off the top of his head and hit the wall behind him. Rachel spun around and dashed out of the room. Steve heard the apartment door slamming and Rachel's feet thundering down the stairs.
Halfway down the stairs, Rachel came to a sudden halt. Daddy's car was parked in the fire lane, parallel to the curb, a small horse trailer hitched behind it.