The Pickled Peas Palaver: A Humorous Saga of Risk-taking

John was a very funny kid. He had a great sense of humor and he never really took anything seriously. So when his mother told him that he couldn't leave the house until he finished all of his peas, he just laughed it off.

"You have to be kidding!" he said. "I can't leave? You know I'm in middle school right? Do you even realize how stupid that sounds?"

His mother glared at him, "I'm not kidding, John. If you don't finish those peas, you won't be leaving the house today."

"Okay, okay," John said, trying to placate her. "I'll eat them. You don't have to get all worked up about it."

John did his best to finish the peas. He wasn't particularly fond of them, but he didn't want to be stuck at home with nothing to do. He was in the middle of his last bite when his father came in through the back door. He looked at John and then at his wife.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Is there a problem?"

"Your son is refusing to eat his peas," his mother said angrily. "He doesn't want to eat them, so now he can't leave. That's the rule."

John's father looked at her sternly. "The rule is that if he doesn't finish his dinner, he can't leave. That's it. There isn't any other stipulation."

"Well, he's not finishing his dinner," she argued. "So he has to stay home."

"You should probably go to your room and figure out how to eat them," John's father said as he went over to the stove and started dishing out some dinner for himself. "You may not like them, but you're not going anywhere until you've finished your dinner."

"But Dad--"

"No," his father interrupted him. "I don't want to hear it. Just eat your dinner and we'll see what happens after dinner."

So John went to his room and tried his hardest to eat the peas. He ended up getting sick to his stomach. He didn't think they were that bad, but he couldn't make himself eat any more after he threw up. He went back out to the kitchen and put his dish in the sink.

"Mom, Dad, I'm done. I can't eat anymore. I'm going to bed."

"No, you're not," his mother said. "You're going to clean your plate."

"I DID CLEAN MY PLATE," John said. "I cleaned it so good that I threw it up in the sink. And I don't want to be here anymore. I just want to go to my room and go to sleep. In fact, I haven't really slept in days. I'm about to collapse, and if you leave me up, I might end up hurting myself."

"You're being ridiculous," his father said. "Fine, go to your room. But you're not leaving until tomorrow morning."

John stormed out of the kitchen and went to his room. He slammed the door and flopped onto his bed. "This is bullshit," he muttered to himself. He could hear his parents fighting in the kitchen.

"I told you he was being ridiculous," his mother said. "He's acting like a child."

"I don't care," his father said. "He needs to learn his lesson sometime."

"His lesson is that he can't eat whatever he wants. I'm not sure why this is such a difficult concept for you to understand."

"We're not dealing with a normal kid," his father replied. "He's not going to understand subtlety. We need to be blunt with him, otherwise he's just going to walk all over us. If you really want him to eat his peas, then you have to force him to eat them. Otherwise, I'm pretty sure he's just going to say he doesn't want to eat them and then not eat them."

"That's ridiculous," his mother said. "That's not how this works."

"We've been trying to do it the easy way for years and it never works. We need to try something different."

"Fine," his mother said. "If that's what you think we need to do."

John heard shuffling and banging in the kitchen. It sounded like they were moving chairs around. Then they stopped and it got quiet. He heard them both walk outside and shut the back door.

"Are you ready?" he heard his mother ask.

"Yeah," his father replied.

John opened his door and saw his parents standing with their backs to him. They were facing the large backyard.

"What are you doing?" John asked.

"We're not doing anything," his father replied. "We're just standing here."

John walked over to them and saw that there was a small circle drawn in the grass. It was about five feet across and had a bunch of markings on it. He noticed his mother holding a gun.

"What is that?" he asked. "Why do you have a gun?"

"Do you remember when I told you that there would be a test before you could leave the house?" his mother asked him.

"Yeah," John replied.

"I lied," his mother said. "There's no test. This is the test."

"What is this?" John asked.

"This is the test," his father said. "You have to walk across this circle and then you can leave the house."

"And if I don't?" John asked.

"Then your mother is going to shoot you," his father replied. "She's going to shoot you right in the back."

"What?" John said. "You can't do that! That's not fair!"

"Actually it is fair," his father said. "This is the test. Either you walk across the circle, or you die."

John looked at the circle and then at his mother's gun. He didn't like either option. He decided that he'd rather risk getting shot than to walk across the circle. He slowly backed away from them and ran back into his room. He shut and locked the door. His parents started pounding on the door and yelling at him. He barricaded the door with his dresser and then went over to his window. He tried to open it, but it was stuck.

"Damn it!" he cursed. "Why is this thing stuck?"

He grabbed a chair and tried to use it to pry the window open. He heard his mother bang on the door again.

"Give up John," she yelled. "You're not getting out of this room."

He tried to pry the window open but it wouldn't budge. He had no idea what to do. His parents were out there, trying to kill him and there was nothing he could do. He sat down on his bed and looked out the window at the garden. The moon was bright, illuminating the garden and the circle. He looked back at the circle, took a deep breath, and stood up. He walked to the window and pushed it open.