Old Tom Klapp

Flash fiction

Photo by Nong on Unsplash

Happy Holidays to my family, friends, and readers near and far.

May this story bring you a moment of warmth.

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Everyone knew Mr. Klapp: he owned the toyshop in town.

Old Tom Klapp didn’t know much about the world because he never went anywhere— but he knew how to spread joy to the young families who stepped inside his shop.

That’s probably why he was able to keep his business afloat for over forty years.

All day long Tom sat behind the counter, whittling wooden toys from scrap pieces of wood he picked up for free from the local lumberyard. His jackknife flashed like lightning. Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin’s voices often filled the quieter moments, the slower days. By closing time, wood shavings littered the hardwood floor, and Tom had to sweep them up.

Tom had an affinity for crafting small figurines in the shape of animals. He made giraffes, elephants, tigers, cats, dogs—even ickier critters like snakes and rats because some kids liked those, too.  He claimed he could create an animal in an hour.

Hundreds of animals occupied the shelves near the cash register. Tom handed off an animal to every child who left his store, free of charge. Typically, the children became more fascinated with the animals than the other toys their parents purchased for them.

One day, a teenager carrying a skateboard stepped inside The Village Toyshop.

“Morning,” Tom said to him. “Anything special you’re looking for, partner?”  

“No, not really,” the boy replied. He approached the counter hesitantly. Tom set down his carving knife and block of wood, curious.

The boy fished something out of his pocket. It was a small, wooden bird painted blue. It was chipped—obviously worn from time and heavy use.

“You gave me this seven years ago. I always remembered the date because it was three days after my mother died. And…I don’t know why, but this little bird helped me more than I can tell you. I think it reminded me of her. So thank you. I’ll always be grateful for that.” The boy held it out.

Caught off guard, Tom fought back tears. He tried to speak. It took him a minute before he said, “You sure?”

“Positive. I’m okay now.”

Tom took the bird. “Well, thank you. It means a lot.” He wiped his eyes.

“Have a great day, sir.”

“You too, son.” Before the boy turned to leave, Tom reached up and pulled a wooden lion off the shelf. “Here. Maybe I’ll see you again in seven years.”

The boy took the lion and smiled. “Thank you. Maybe you will.”

Tom never saw the boy again, but the little blue bird remained on his shelf for the rest of his days.

Thank you for reading “Old Tom Klapp” today. I hope you enjoyed it.

For a solid month, I’ve been thinking about sharing this story from the archives. I originally wrote “Old Tom Klapp” and sent it out in November of 2021.

This will be my final story for 2023. I’m going to take the next two weeks off to enjoy the holiday season with my family and friends. I’ll resume sending out original fiction on Monday, January 8th, 2024.

Our final Fifties by the Fire meetup will be held this Friday, December 22nd at 3:00 PM EST. Please see below for details.

Happy Holidays to you and yours from Along the Hudson. Thank you for making this such a wonderful place to be.

Warmly,

Justin

We will have our final Fifties by the Fire meetup on Friday, December 22nd. Pull up a chair with your favorite cup of cheer! The thread will go live at 3:00 EST.

Prompt: Write and share a fifty-word heartwarming tale (fiction, CNF, or poem) fit for the winter or holiday season.

Happy writing! I hope to see you by the fire.

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Lastly, I wanted to thank those of you who picked up a copy of my new book, 50 Fifties: A Justin Deming Literary Project. I am completely blown away by the kind words and support you’ve shown me. It truly means the world to me.

If you’re looking for a last-minute stocking stuffer, please feel free to check out 50 Fifties by clicking here.