SHORT STORY
2009 FIRST PLACE

Battle of the Bedsheets
Logan Gates
18 years old, Virginia

                The Blue Army had surrounded the Greens and was preparing to invade. The pieces were set, the cannons loaded, and victory was at hand. The ruddy-faced boy triumphantly moved the first battalion of toy soldiers towards the enemy.  The Greens turned to run, but could not escape. The first Blues advanced and - “Phillip!”
                The shrill voice spoiled the intense moment.
                “For the last time, Phillip, come down from your room this instant!.  School starts in five minutes!”
“I’m COMING, Ma!”  The flustered boy abandoned his toys, grabbed his jacket, and rushed out of his bedroom.
                He left a fog of stillness in his wake.  Strewn across the floor were toys and stuffed animals, papers and books, clothes and slippers.  The Blues, one bayonet charge away from victory, impatiently stood frozen in time.
                “Maintain your focus, men!” barked the Blue General, “Soon enough we’ll get revenge for their encroachment on our bed sheets, bah!”
                The Greens remained silent.
                Another voice pierced the stillness.  “Oh, give it a rest, would ya?”
                The formidable General, suddenly seeing his honor threatened, roared in reply, “Who dared say that!?”
                A teddy bear from across the room continued, “General, just look at yourself.”
                His response was instantaneous and gruff.  ‘In myself I see passion and inherent superiority.”
              A miniature sheep from a model barn cried out, ‘But when you fight, the model cars get knocked over, the homework gets torn, and you make a mess of the entire room.”
                A baseball poster chimed in, “You yell so loud that no one can think.”
                A model spaceship sputtered, “You think everything revolves around you.”
                Quivering with rage, the Blue General growled, “How dare you accuse me of such crimes.”
                The bear took up the argument again.  “You disrupt our community, break other toys, and in the end, never seem to get anywhere.”
                A chorus of “yeas” echoed throughout the room, and the General saw he was sorely outnumbered.  His own troops hid their faces in shame.
                Flustered, the General intensified his tone.  “Well, I’ll just…I’ll just leave if you all hate me so -”
                “None of us hates you,” interjected the bear.  His voice turned calm and sincere.  “Nobody doubts or despises your passion, General.  It’s just how you handle it that turns the world against you.
                The General gazed angrily into the distance.  Under his breath he muttered, “How can one wield passion without war?
                Cries rang out among the toys.        
                “What about compromise?”
                “What about forgiveness?
                “What about peace?”
                The General’s face slowly softened.  He looked around at his soldiers, all gazing at him with earnestness.  His eyes skirted to his enemies, still bracing for the last attack.  He looked at the bed sheets.
                Well…maybe,” the General said quietly, staring downward.  Then, he began to nod his head.  He looked up and began to chuckle.  “I wonder how Phillip will feel about checkers,” he mused with a grin, and all the toys laughed and cheered.