Henry Gant, Man About Town. This Episode: "Twenty Four Hour Short Story Contest." A little girl finds a strange new animal in her backyard and begs her parents to keep it as a pet.

The Box, The Princess, and The Necklace.

"You have to guess!" She screamed.

I put down my paper and looked beyond my glasses. Our seven-year-old daughter, Susan was literally spinning and jumping like the Warner Brother's Looney Tunes cartoon' Tasmanian devil.
"I caught him . . . I caught him . . . I caught him! " She repeated until she was out of breath.
In her hands, she held a shoe box.

"He's mine," she sang, over and over.
Suddenly stopping her celebration she remembered something.
"Can I keep him, Daddy?" She pleaded.
"Mom said I had to ask you?"

"I'm sure if you take care of it and feed it, it should be alright." With a smile, I looked at Janet, my wife. She had entered the room walking slowly toward where Susan spun, and I sat. I expected her to nod her agreement and share our family moment.
To my surprise, she stood there with an ashen blank stare.

"Janet . . . Honey?" I asked, "Is there something wrong?"

She wasn't focusing. She said, "I'm going to open a bottle of wine and drink it. Then, I'm going to sleep. When I wake up, this had better of been a dream. I'll tell you about my dream then." She turned to leave the room.

"Janet . . . you don't drink. We don't have any wine."

As she walked away she said, "We have cough syrup then. . . ."

I turned my attention back to Susan, who smiled and shrugged her shoulders. In her hands, she proudly held the lid tight to the shoe box.
Genuinely curious now, I asked, "What in the world did you catch, Princess?"
Her eyes lighted up and she dazzled with excitement. "You have to guess," she repeated.
I said, "Listen if it's a snake . . . then give me the box, and I will let it go across the street in the field.

"It's not a snake," she frowned. "You have to guess!"
"You showed it to your mother?" I asked.
Our Princess responded, "I told her what it is, first . . . and she said I could keep him . . . then I showed her, and she just pointed at you."

"Ok, Princess, whatever it is . . . your mom didn't think you really caught one; and now, she doesn't want you keeping it." I saw our little Princess clench the shoe box tightly, refusing to give in.

"That's not fair," Princess cried, "Both of you would read to me about them and you said they were good." In a huff, she said, "I caught this in the flowers, and he's mine."

"All right then, if I can guess what it is after five questions, then I get to decide if you can keep it." At least I sounded fair. "If I can't . . . then you show me what it is."

"Ok," she said. Her brow furrowed as she struggled to grasp the real deal.

"You said, we read it to you . . . is it in one of your bedtime stories?" I asked.
"Yes!" she danced.

I looked at the shoe box. "Does it have fur?"
"No," she shook her head.

"Does it have feathers?" Now, the game was fun again.
Again she smiled and shook her head, "No."

"How did you catch it?" I folded my paper and put it aside on the table.
She began, "He's always there in the flowers, I remembered the book you read to me. I remembered how to catch one. So, I put my gold necklace on the grass with the shoe box propped up like in the story. And when he came to take It . . . I pulled the string and it dropped over him and he is mine!"

"Princess . . . if it is a Butterfly then we have to let it go . . . it's not fair to keep one of the things your mother really loves in a box." I added, "In fact, we really shouldn't keep any living thing in a cage."

She looked downward. "It's not a butterfly," she said. Tears began to well up at the corner of her beautiful little eyes. I truly felt horrible having to say what I did.

"I thought it was ok to have one." She said, with sadness in her voice.
"He's magic . . ." she said, handing me the box. "I just wanted you to see."
I continued, "Well, sometimes we want to believe in Peter Pan and Tinkerbells." I took the shoe box, "But we have to let the butterflies, hummingbirds and free creatures live with us . . . and not for us. You will understand one day."

I set the box on my lap and then kissed Princess gently on the forehead. She looked at me with the slightest smile, saying, "Let me do it . . . I should be the one to let him go. I'll even let him keep my gold necklace."

"Ok, Princess if it can carry your gold necklace then it deserves to keep it. I'll get you another one."
I opened the box just enough to peek inside.

And from out of the box a tiny voice said, "I'll be taken' my gold and be a leaven' then."
Stunned, I handed her the box . . . and said flatly, "That's a leprechaun."

Princess looked at me and replied, " I know . . . . That's just the way Mom said it."

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This is my entry for the Twenty Four Hour Short Story Contest.
We have 24 hours in which to complete a story based on a given topic.
This weeks topic is.
A little girl finds a strange new animal in her backyard and begs her parents to keep it as a pet.

You can find the link here:
https://steemit.com/twentyfourhourshortstory/@mctiller/writers-win-5-steem-april-10th-twenty-four-hour-short-story-contest-a-little-girl-finds-a-strange-new-animal-in-her-backyard-and#@henry-gant/re-mctiller-writers-win-5-steem-april-10th-twenty-four-hour-short-story-contest-a-little-girl-finds-a-strange-new-animal-in-her-backyard-and-20180410t001044033z

This beautiful work of art is from the magic of the internet.

Tinkerbell by Henry Gant
Necklace from Henry Gant

Thank you for your kind attention.

H. G.