"But, Tom, there's no rainbow," said Ted.
"Nae, no' yet, but the wind's a blowin' in a storm."
"But if it's a storm how will the sun shine through to make the rainbow?" asked Johnny.
"It has come to my attention, lads, that we be a mite shy o' the faith necessary to find our pot o' gold," said Tom.
The wind blew a few shy raindrops their way. Tom looked up to the sky and turned away from the sun. He pointed in the distance. "That way, lads."
The ragtag group of boys followed Tom out of the yard. They walked for a couple blocks and stop at a house with a U-Haul in the drive. Tom removed his hat and bowed low to a woman carrying a lamp in each land. The other boys attempted to bow as well.
"You are the good lady of the house?"
The woman smiled at the boys. "I'm Mrs. Peterson, and that," she nodded her head to a man trying to unload a couch from the truck, "is Mr. Peterson."
"I am Tom, and this is my posse." Mrs. Peterson's smile broadened as Tom's hand took in the group of boys. "Our rainbow has led us to you." Tom turned to the boys and pointed at Mr. Peterson, still struggling with the couch. "Lads, the pot o' gold lies yonder. Let us get it before the opportunity passes us by."
Tom and the boys crowded around the couch lifted it up for Mr. Peterson. He laughed gratefully. They maneuvered the couch, as best as young boys could control a large piece of furniture, into the Peterson's new home. The boys panted and patted each other on the back and ran out to the truck to bring in more things.
As the boys worked, they were joined by other neighbors, and a bucket brigade was formed from the truck to the living room. The U-Haul was emptied in short order, and the boys went inside to ask Mrs. Peterson if they could take the boxes in the living room to the other parts of the house. Mrs. Peterson laughed and agreed to let them help her.
Tom carried a box to a door in the hall. Mrs. Peterson had asked him to be quiet and to just leave the box outside. He was tempted to open the door to see what was inside, but he shook his head and turned away, but he stopped as a weak young voice called out, "Mom?"
Tom was stunned. He pressed his ear against the door. "Mom?" called the voice again. Tom took hold of the doorknob and opened the door a crack and peaked in. There was not much to see, a pile of boxes and the foot of a bed. Tom opened the door a little further, and poked his head around it to see the whole room.
In the bed lay a boy about Tom's age. "Who are you?"
"I'm Tom. I'm helping your mom and dad. What's your name?"
The boy sighed. "I'm Corby. I wish I could help."
"Are you sick?"
Corby shook his head. "My leg's broken."
"How did you break it?"
"I broke it while ice skating."
"You can ice skate? Cool!"
Corby smiled. "It's easy, and a lot of fun."
"When your leg gets better, you can teach me and the posse how to skate."
"The posse?"
"My gang. Would you like to meet them?"
"Yes."
"I'll be back in a tick." Tom runs out of the room to find Mrs. Peterson. She was unpacking the kitchen. "Mrs. Peterson, can the boys meet Corby?"
She looks up from the box she is emptying. "Corby?"
"He called for you."
She sighed. "Alright."
Tom collected his posse from throughout the house and they all piled into Corby's room.
"Lads, we have found our pot o' gold. This is Corby."
Elizabeth Williamson Copyright © 2010
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