My cousin did a bad thing to me. I had a small box. It was my favorite thing. Inside was a pretty stone from the beach and a note from my grandmother. I showed it to my cousin one day. He laughed. He said it was baby stuff. Then he took the box. He ran outside. I ran after him, but he was too fast. He threw the box into the deep mud near the pond. It sank. I could not get it back. I cried. He just laughed and said, “Find it now.” He thought he was so smart.
I was angry for a long time. I wanted to hurt him back. But I did not want to fight. I wanted a smart revenge. So I waited.
My cousin was very proud of his bicycle. It was new and red and fast. He rode it every day. He cleaned it every night. It was his favorite thing in the world.
One afternoon, he left his bike by the tree. He went inside to get a drink. I saw my chance. I did not break it. I did not take it. I did something small. I went to the kitchen and got a little butter. I rubbed it on the chain and the wheels. Not too much. Just enough.
When he came back, he got on his bike. He started to ride. But the wheels slipped. The chain made a bad sound. He went only a few steps and then he fell into a bush. His nice red bike fell on top of him. He was not hurt, but his shirt was dirty. His pants were torn. His face was red. He looked silly.
I watched from the window. I did not laugh out loud. I just smiled. He did not know I did it. He blamed the mud on the road. But I knew. And I felt better.