Author's Note: This is my first and only Tom Sawyer fanfiction. I wrote this for an assignment my literature teacher gave me. It was fun, I guess. :)
A "Gentleman" Named Tom Sawyer
The Puppeteer Patient 120402
"Thomas Sawyer, where have you been?!" came Aunt Polly's clamorous interrogation upon Tom's 'stealthy' entrance. The preteen boy blanched at the sound of his aunt's voice, which seemed to toll like a mystic bell from a distant church's steeple in an otherwise silent night.
Tom, knowing that there would be dissent followed by punishment, began to spin a tale ridden with grandiose embellishments. He knew he couldn't tell her that his bare feet had led him along the sinuous path through the forest and to the dangerous precipice onto which the aging woman who presently tapped her foot impatiently on the wooden floor had told him so many times not to go. He also knew that he couldn't divulge that he had not yet completed the tedious garden work that she had previously assigned to him.
Since he couldn't tell her that the small posse that was Tom Sawyer's Gang had ventured into yet another cave (St. Petersburg seemed to have an abundance of those.), dodging falling stalactites at nearly every turn, in search of pirate booty, he came up with an entirely different story:
"Well, ya see, Aunt Polly, I found a broke hoe in yor shed an' was a-fixin' to take it down to Ol' Jake to fix it up, when I nearly stumbled on a raggedy ol' man behind the shed. I just knew somethin' was wrong with 'im besides bein' tuckered out. Not-a one of them words he was a-mumblin' was lucid, I reckon. He looked the skinniest, sorriest lookin' fella in all the hamlets 'round these parts.
"Now jus' when he was a-makin to run off, Widder Douglas came 'round the corner. She took one look at 'im an' jus' 'bout swooned. I couldn't leave her that way, jus' a-swooning in the street. I took her home, an' she had me a-fanning her an' bringing her a cold cloth. I was a-sittin' there staring at them frescoed angels on her parlor ceiling,' jus' a-fanning her, an' I figured I'd a-better git on home."
As the boy finished his fabrication, Aunt Polly stared at him suspiciously, almost as if she was trying to see into his soul to tell if he was lying, but after a few torturous moments, she seemed to decide that she believed him.
Aunt Polly's praise was effusive, and it came with a fat slice of apple pie. Sid's protests were ignored. And Tom enjoyed that piece of apple pie, smacking his lips contently.
He knew that the next time Aunt Polly talked to Widow Douglas, it wouldn't end well for him.
Author's Note: Hope you liked it!