Once upon a time (like how all those stories usually start), there lived a boy. Unbothered about his life as he was the only child of the parents who were credited by the name, THE RICHEST of the town. No one ever saw him crying except for one time, when he wanted the mighty moon among his toys. That was the worst cry the town had in ages. People were annoyed, rather nothing could be done. If you had thought that this looks like a bed time story. Well, I am not gonna disappoint you, I would be delighted to tell that your notions are probably true.
Getting back into the story, Mr and Mrs. Smith ( The parents of the UNNAMED boy, Unnamed because I don’t want to waste some time thinking about a good name. As I am already very bad at naming, I might have even named him an ape, mostly because of his attitude and looks. A WHITE APE probably ). On the other hand, in addition to wealth, Mrs. Smith was charming with beauty in her blood. She had a fair skin, as soft as silk and as pale as milk. The necklace and those jewels she wore, added more pride to her and her looks. Coming to her husband, about whom I don’t wish to talk much, was quite opposite to his wife. I still wonder how Mrs. Smith had married him. His face was like a pumpkin (more like a white one, if exists). He was greedy, and proud, not because of his handsomeness (Something that was never seen with him) but, because of the wealth he had. Mr. Smith probably would have been the only reason for the UNNAMED boy, for his ape alike looks.
The boy’s moan (Probably a cry now), couldn’t be stopped with anything. No toys could shut his mouth (The mouth, that made him look more like an ape). None of those jokers and buffoons could bring a smile on his face. In fact, the buffoon made the boy so terrified that the boy, who was unnamed burst out into a louder cry than before. This made Mr. Smith angry and ordered the buffoon not to come back to the town again or his face (That helped many children laugh, except for this one) would be cut off and hung in front of his house to shoo away those birds (which pooped there always and annoyed him the most).
“Those who can stop the tears from my beautiful son’s eyes, will be rewarded with a huge sum”, said Mrs. Smith concerned about the town and her boy, who was unnamed. Posters were made and stuck every where. Those who were greedy and those who were in need of money did not fail in noticing the posters, as the reward was that high that even wealthy people would opt for it, giving up on their prestige and legacy. Days went, and the boy’s desire for the moon never vanished. The whole town now named him CRYBY ( A portmanteau for CRYING BABY, I suppose).
The boy’s desire for the moon went on, and so the parent’s concern. When all their hopes were jiggered, there came an old wise man.
“What would be mine if I stop the boy crying?”, he said with a tone that made him look more nobler.
“Wealth I suppose”, said Mr. Smith with a tone that made him look more greedy.
It isn’t sure that if Mr.Smith had finished what he thought to say, but, there came a voice from behind very soon. “What do you want?”, it said and it was Mrs. Smith, who interrupted into the scene.
“The boy himself, for a year”, said the noble man.
“You fool, what are your intentions?”, asked Mr. smith with a fierce look on his face. Even before he got an answer from the old man, he ordered his men to send him out of his mansion. The old man looked calm, unconcerned about what Mr. Smith said. He seemed uncaring and he made his way out of the house.
A few more days had passed, but not the boy’s desire. They had no more hopes. The boy looked sick, something that worth being more concerned. They had no other choices but to call the wise old man. He was their last hope. Mr. Smith ordered his men to convey his message to the old man through a letter that said,
I give all my sincere apologizes for being such abusive that day. The boy is in deep need of a solution, that he is almost fighting for his life. I hope that you would come up with something that would help the boy overcome what he is facing.
The letter at the bottom had a signature (Made in such a way that would take someone years to realise what language it was) of Mr. Smith’s, with a thanking notice.
The next day, when Mr and Mrs. Smith were waiting with their pale faces, there he arrived. He had a bag that had something in the size of a watermelon. He took the round thing out of the bag, that looked in the colour of snow. It glowed and a man who saw it shouted to others with astonishment, “MOON! MOON! The old man has brought the moon from the sky”. But, when Mr.Smith looked at the sky, he could see the moon (That looked more beautiful than ever).
“What is that you have with you?”, asked Mr. Smith.
“MAGIC, and no more questions. Bring me the boy”, said the old man.
The boy seeing the mini moon stopped crying at once, and he was delighted. Seeing their boy accompanied by a smile again, Mr and Mrs. Smith were delighted too.
“Bring me the moon and throw the filthy old man away”, order Mr. Smith to his men.
“Don’t you remember what I said it is? MAGIC, that was created by me. MAGIC, that can be destroyed by me, if I want to”, said the old man in a way that Mr. Smith’s other thoughts had died.
He continued,” You need not be concerned, your kid will be safe with me. I will bring him making him more wiser than he is now.”
Mr. Smith had no other ways but, to let go of his son with him. “It was all MAGIC or else the old man would have been dead by now, that would have made my son stay with me”, thought Mr. Smith.
It was never magic, it was a rubber in the shape of a sphere coated with glitters. It was just a man’s trick. (MAGIC saved his life? Well, you would have now known why I mentioned the old man as wise and noble.) The boy who was unnamed, was taken by the old man with himself for a year. No one ever knew where they were. The boy kept the rubber thing with himself, which was later used by him to play with his friends (And now, probably you would have known how and why the first ball was made on EARTH). Finally, the unnamed boy was named as MOON, indeed because of his tale.