“Eat your Twizzlers and look out the window.”
“But which one?”
“I suppose the tampon factory. That way I don’t reek of garlic when Oprah comes over.”
“Good idea. And you can give her a box. ‘You get a box! You get a box! Everyone gets a box!’” I mimicked Oprah’s phrase for when she gave stuff out on her show.
The rain started coming down harder, so I decided to keep quiet for a bit so I didn’t distract Russell while he was driving.
“Let me know when you want me to drive,” I offered up.
“It’s not a long drive today.”
“I know, but still.”
“I will let you know.”
I adjusted the seat and leaned back to relax. I ended up closing my eyes because there wasn’t a lot to see except windshield wiper blades going back and forth.
The ground had been wet,and puddles were all over the playground at recess. Alone, I sat against the chain-link fence waiting for the others. The air was heavy, and it was hard for me to breathe, just like last night at the train yard. My stomach still hurt. I was usually one of the first kids outside after lunch. I waited by the kickball court for the guys in my class to appear with the ball. While I waited, I tried to think of what I would do after school. Mom worked until dinnertime today. If it wasn’t raining, I could go to the beach. If it rained, I could go to the library. I had wanted to read one of the Choose Your Own Adventure books again.
Finally, some of the guys rounded the corner and were eating popsicles or tearing into their popcorn bags. I stood and waited for the kids to line up along the fence so the two captains could begin picking teams. Kickball was popular among the fifth graders, and sometimes the teams were big. Not everyone got a chance to kick.
“I pick Ryan,” Gary called out my name, causing the other captain to swear. I high-fived Gary as I stood beside him.
We had first-ups and Gary organized us in the order he wanted us to kick. We had three good players kicking first, and I was going to kick fourth. The idea was if any of them were stuck on bases, that I’d kick them home.
“Ryan,” one of the girls in our class said my name. When I looked at her, she shook her popcorn bag. “Want some?”
Food. I nodded and put my hands together so she could pour some into my hands.
“Thank you,” I said as she poured the yellow popcorn into my hands.
“These bags are so big, and I can never finish them by the time the bell rings.”
I quickly shoved it into my mouth just in time for me to kick. I glanced at the outfield; the kids were playing deep. The pitcher rolled the ball toward me and then backed up beyond second base. My eyes followed the ball, and I timed my stutter step toward it perfectly.
Boom!
My celebration was quickly doused by piercing pain that shot from my dick to my stomach.
“Ow,” I mumbled as all the kids on my team cheered.
“Run, Ryan!” Girls who were standing against the fence on our side screamed and cheered.
I pushed down the pain and didn’t stop until I hit third. The relay was being made with the ball, and now it was close to the infield. I took off toward home, making the other kid throw to try to tag me out. I made a sudden stop and dropped to the wet ground to dodge the ball. Ha! The ball breezed by me. I stood and trotted to the home plate with everyone cheering.
I collected high-fives, and moments later, the bell rang, ending the best part of my day. As kids scurried all over the playground, I raced to the trash can with my hand over my stomach. The girl who had given me the popcorn headed over to throw away what was left in the bag.
“Can I have it?” I asked. I usually could catch something good and scarf it down before the teachers came out. She held the partially empty popcorn bag out toward me, and I wasted no time and dug right in.
“Ryan, you’re bleeding,” she said and pointed to my leg.
What?
With a mouthful of popcorn, I looked down at my knee. In horror, I gasped at the tear in my sweatpants. It wasn’t just a tiny tear; this was a full-fledged hole. I didn’t care that I was bleeding, but I cared there was a hole. I still ate the popcorn, even though I felt sick.
“Mrs. Stevenson!” the girl called out to our teacher the second she walked outside with the other fifth grade teachers. “Ryan fell during recess and is bleeding,” the girl explained. I shoveled more popcorn into my mouth as the four fifth grade teachers walked over.
