Day 88 of 100

“It was just a television.”

“Is the American boy here?” I heard coming from the door. I had been staying with my grandparents for about a month in Israel and had made a few friends.

“I am!” I called and headed out the door. “Only for a few hours!” my grandmother commanded.

I met Aaron at the door and we ran down the three flights of stairs skipping every step before we reached the door at each floor.

The sun beat down and we headed to the grass area to play random games. About an hour in, Aaron asked me if I wanted to go to the playground.

“Of course I do!” I responded. The playground sat on the other side of a field filled with junk.

About half way through the junk field, we came across an old broken television screen popped out of its casing.

“You can’t break a television screen,” Aaron explained. With a twinkle, I picked up a rock and threw it.

Nothing.

So I threw it again. Nothing. Aaron threw one. Nothing. Back and forth, we kept throwing rocks at this tv.

“See!” Aaron yelled.

“One more,” I replied. I picked up a nice rock and threw it.

KA-BOOM. The screen shattered and exploded and the sound was deafening.

“Oops.”

We quickly walked back to the apartment complex with people’s heads out of the window yelling in Hebrew.

Aaron kept saying “It was just a television” over and over.

“What did they think it was?” I asked.

“A bomb.”