Snapshots

These are just two memories that I have put into snapshots, Short stories or snippets describing a moment from my life. The first one was from a few months ago, I wrote it in my English class. This second is being written right now.


Spot In Line

I'm standing in a High School courtyard, the middle in a row of 14 waiting kids, and I"M trying, failing really, to act cool and nonchalant. Most the others are the same way, sitting on benches or on the ground against the walls, spinning sticks in their hands. The mid-May sunshine filters through cottonwood trees casting spider-web shadows over the concrete and brick, a breeze swaying the branches. But the air in here is still. It's nice to have blue skies on a day full of thunder. Everyone keeps glancing at the blue metal door with the security window, waiting for it to open and Mr. Bowker to come out and give us the news. It's been a long day, a day of tension, rhythm, drills, music, competition, performance, tired feet, and tired wrists. Waiting, spinning, that familiar feel of hickory between your fingers is my only friend there. Not that these kids are my enemies, just competitors, and judges. Kids I'm familiar with, Quin, Tom, Jessi, Ashley, all here in this sort of line we've made unofficially, until we got but in our official spot in line. Out comes a high heel and that's definitely not Mr. Bowker, so we continue waiting, spinning, and I exchange a glance with Tom. Finally he comes out. Everyone gathers round, standing close and silent as he begins to read the list. Positions are announced, name by name, some heads nod and some heads hang. "Gage, you're on tenors," says Mr. Bowker. A grin finally releases, and I take a deep breath for the first time all day. A few more instructions, I don't remember what was said. Finally we leave and Quin laughs as he says, "Gage you haven't stopped smiling for the last fifteen minutes."


Next.


Ninja Lessons

To a Ten-year old boy, there are very few things that are cooler than Ninja's. Maybe no things at all, Transformers and Pirates being the only contenders to the throne. And so when your older brother Calvin offers Ninja lessons, it becomes only natural to follow him right out the back door onto the trampoline and become his Protege. All four of us enrolled in the program but Chad, being the second oldest, seemed dubious. For credentials he had a bandana tied around his head. For the uninitiated reader, that constitutes full ninja expertise in the minds of the prepubescent. We sat in order by age, being the natural hierarchy of things, in a circle on the padded green and blue edge of the trampoline. Warm ups of course had to come first and these came in the form of forward somersaults and a few air punches. Words of wisdom such as "Ninjas must be at one with themselves to reach the art of Ninja." And "One cannot expect to have Ninja skills, if you aren't willing to first be Ninja'd" formed most of our theoretical instruction. After letting him knock us all over once or twice to build toughness, Chad decided he was done. "Calvin this sucks!" Chad said, emphasizing the phrase with a punch in the stomach. He jumped off the tramp and walked away. We weren't through though, we wanted to reach level 2 Ninja. So now came our test.

Calvin stood up and declared, "Fight Me!"

Apparently he didn't fear the younger three since he had had his growth spurt and weighed about as much as all of us put together. First one to knock the other over won, if he won, we kept the lessons, if we won, we got to level 2. This all seemed to make a lot of sense for us so the three of us struck like hyenas. Calvin had a jolly old time knocking us all on our Tush's and laughing as if he'd upset Jackie Chan in a sparring match.

In the Ninja master's great mercy and benevolence, a rematch was granted, level 2 continued to make our imaginations salivate. We needed a game plan so a huddle was convened. If the movies were to be believed, our best shot would be distraction followed by the old kneel behind him and push him over. Our roles assigned, we lined up and Calvin shouted "GO!" Chase served as distraction. While he was the youngest, he was probably the easiest target so Calvin, like any self respecting kung-fu master went for him. Chase jumped between his legs and kicked him in the but. Jared got on his hands and knees behind him as Calvin turned around to Catch Chase. Since I was the only one who had nearly enough weight to move him, I was the designated pusher. I geared up and dug my socks into the rubber weave of the trampoline, dropped my shoulder and slammed into him with as much force as a 10 year old could imagine an NFL lineback having. Calvin laughed, didn't move, and shoved me. Luckily, I got a hold of his wrist as he did so and started him tipping. Chase came in and bit his ankle, and Jared finished the Job by ramming the top of his head into Calvin's left butt cheek. The leviathan fell. He crashed like the tower of babel. It all happened in slow motion as the deadly master went to the ground like we've all been waiting for the tower of Pisa to do. Score one for the good guys.

Time for Level three.