[singfreedom]

I feel sorry for the youngster with the braces and the fat lip. He may never recover from what his parents have done. Parents wonder why their children are picked on, but the answer can sometimes be as simple as the parents being too protective/involved in the child's business.

If there was a reason the boy shouldn't have been playing "wall ball" then the parents should have said something PRIOR to the incident.

[aruanan]

Chapter Three of The Boy Who Could Step Sideways

By the time he got out to the playground, Desi found the two 5th grade classes just finishing calisthenics to warm up for dodgeball. The substitute gym teacher had already dragged a big rope net full of dodgeballs to the center of the basketball court. The guy didn't look too athletic.

"Okay, today we don't have enough time to choose teams, so it's just gonna be 5A against 5B."

Judging from the red and white crush-proof box in his shirt pocket, Desi knew it meant the teacher wanted to have more time to smoke.

The teacher threw roughly half the balls toward either end of the court.

"When I blow my whistle, grab your balls and start playing."

He tooted his whistle half-heartedly and trudged toward the gate in the fence.

Except for Desi and a new kid from the other class, the other boys sniggered at what they thought was a joke and ran screaming for the balls. The teacher was already reaching for his smokes with one hand and his lighter with the other as he reached the fence. He leaned back against the fence, lit up, dragged hungrily on the cigarette, inhaled the smoke deeply, and let it out as though it was the best thing he'd done all day. Desi saw that he was leaning against the fence in such a way as to keep his head pointed one hundred eighty degrees away from the front porch of the Way Station for the Newly Dead.

This guy looks especially sensitive, Desi thought as he stepped sideways and moved out onto the field of battle. Then he noticed the new boy had his eyes on the gym teacher, too. Desi dodged among the players of his team and scooped up a stray ball that had just ricocheted off the back of a classmate's head.

Todd, the Crate and Barrel boy, whose parents were yuppie lawyers, raised a cry against what he called "a blatant violation of the rules which specifically forbid balls to the head!" The other team told him what to bite and where to pound sand. The kid appealed loudly to the teacher, who just looked at him, grimaced, shrugged with upturned palms.

"Hey, it's a war. What can I say? I didn't see you diving in to save your teammate before. Greater love hath no man, right?" He took another drag on his cigarette and settled himself more comfortably against the fence.

Todd started to turn red in outrage that the authority figure wouldn't jump in to enforce the rules. Judging from the rigidity of his shoulders and the pitch of his head, Desi was pretty sure that the Todd was just about to unleash something the teacher couldn't ignore, something that despite the attraction of the scarcely-started cigarette would mean an end to all their pleasures, such as they were. Desi moved around between Todd and the centerline and waited for an opening.

Time to take one for the team, Todd, he thought.

From less than ten feet away and from a pitch that had been hardened by a couple of summers pitching baseball on his cousins' team back in the old country, the result was spectacular. The ball hit Todd on the shoulder with a loud, echoing sproing, and sailed off high into the air toward the other side. The yuppie followed its arc in disbelief.

The new kid caught it.

"You're OUT!" the new kid yelled at the yuppie.

"Nuh uh!" Todd retorted. "I didn't throw it. I can only be out if you catch a ball I threw!"

"Or if a ball hits you." He held the ball aloft. "Which this one just did."

He fired the ball at the yuppie's feet and connected just as the yuppie was lifting off to avoid it. The yuppie came down in a tangle of J Crew and Land's End.

"And did again," the new boy crowed.

The exchange had taken just long enough for a major portion of each team to have fully witnessed it and too long for Todd to complain about the head shot without looking stupid. A new incident had pushed the old incident out of the group's awareness. The yuppie picked himself up and limped over to the sidelines to take his place among the freshly killed.

The teacher smiled broadly, nodded, gave a thumbs-up to new boy, took another drag, and settled back against the fence to watch the rest of the mayhem. Desi also saw that he was still avoiding any possibility of looking in the direction of the Way Station.

Desi ducked behind a classmate, scooped up another stray ball, and then, watchful against getting hit, moved toward the centerline, seeking a target.

The new kid looked like a good target.