A Childhood Experience

"Would you like to play with us?"

Little Douglas turned around from his seat on the blacktop to face the direction of the voice. He turned in idle curiosity, recognizing the voice. It was from Bobby McKenzie. His dad was Robert McKenzie and he coached Douglas' Little League team. Bobby played first base and didn't like Douglas. He said it was because first basemen aren't supposed to get along with outfielders.

Douglas was taken by surprise when his eyes met Bobby McKenzie's. He had expected that some other kid was being invited, but in fact it was to him Bobby McKenzie spoke. Flustered, Douglas looked down and stammered. He pushed through a series of sentences, abandoned mid-syllable, with almost no coherence. Bobby McKenzie's quizzical look did not help. Finally, though, Douglas forced out what he needed.

"Y-y-y-yes."

So the two got up from the blacktop and began to walk towards the soccer field. There, much of Mrs. Alan's class was gathered. They had divided into two teams and were using baseball bats as makeshift soccer goals. Ecstatic, Douglas tried to keep up with Bobby McKenzie as the boy ran to the center of the field. The game slowly came to a stop as Bobby McKenzie demanded everyone's attention. A couple unexceptional kids shuffled through the grass on the far side of the field, but their chatter was of no consequence.

"Doug and I are on the Rockets. That means Jacob has to join the Eagles."

So the game began in a lazy fashion. Louis kicked the ball in the general direction of the Rockets' goal. It was met, however, with a forest of legs, a few of which actually attempted to kick at the passing ball. Douglas, butterflies notwithstanding, ran after the ball smiling.

As is wont to happen during a soccer game with over twenty participants, the ball violently changed directions after a firm kick. Douglas had a brief moment to register this before the ball again changed directions, this time after bouncing off his forehead. The force of the blow, coupled with the complete surprise with which it took him, knocked Douglas to the ground. His rear landed heavily on the ground and his elbows scrapped painfully on the packed dirt.

All the students gathered began to laugh. Little Douglas had been laid low and remained on his back, temporarily stunned. Mortified, Douglas came back to only to realize that all attention was on him. He wanted nothing more than to be back on the blacktop. He looked about, still recovering from the blow, and saw Bobby McKenzie at his side, bent over in laughter.

"Oh man. That ball really hit you hard, didn't it?"

Douglas could think of nothing beyond the need to flee. Flipping over, he scrambled through the short grass towards the carefully groomed forest flanking the playground. All the students gathered stared at him as he ran. He could feel their eyes stabbing him in the back.

The thirty seconds that it took Douglas to reach the stump upon which he now sat seemed to him far too long. He wiped his cheek with his hand, replacing tears with dirt. Sniffling on his stump, he looked out through the trees to the kids on the soccer field. They continued to play their game as before, the muffled sound of their constant chatter seeping into the forest.

Douglas wished he hadn't joined the game. He knew he should have declined the invitation. He saw Bobby McKenzie run about, laughing and playing. Douglas dourly concluded that he was mean.