Tag

I was young, 8 or 9 years old. Mom would know better than I do. She suggested it.

Christmas was awesome. I cheated, as always, and woke early to see what Santa had left. But two days later I was bored with all my gifts. I was pouting on the living room floor. I remember sitting in a patch of sunlight, Indian-style, elbows on knees, chin in hands. I was craving attention. Mom was in the kitchen doing chores, probably thinking about starting dinner. It must have been 2 0r 3 in the afternoon. All the other kids were out playing. I remember being alone, except for Mom. I was keeping track of her out of the corner of my eye. Every time she would look my way I would animate the pout on my face. I really wanted her to notice that I was not happy.

"Ry. What is the matter?"
"I am bored."
"Why don't you play with your new toys and games?"
"They are all stupid!"
"It is such a nice day. Why don't you go play outside?"
"'Cause there is no one to play with!"
"Well, why don't you go see if that deaf boy wants to play?"

I had nothing to say. She caught me off guard. I was actually intrigued by the idea. Mom told me how to get to his house. Seven blocks later I was knocking on his door. After waiting 30 seconds the door cracked open. An accusatory face appeared. His Mom.

"Yes?"
"Can Jeremey play?"

Her face exploded in light and joy. She flung the door fully open. Her smile was huge!

"Well of course! Wait right here. I will get him."

A lanky, scrawny little boy with too big ears followed her outside to the front yard. She made introductions. She seemed to know everything about me. Her slow signing was a blur as she spelled my name and explained that we were to play. I remember Jeremey asking his Mom what we were supposed to do. She was speaking out loud repeating everything for my benefit. She looked at me with a puzzled look as she translated his question. I shrugged my shoulders.

"Does he play tag?" I asked.

His front yard was grass. Fenced in. Flower beds near the house. No bigger than the stage at the church. I volunteered to be "it". His Mom explained to him that he was to run from me. He was slow. I tagged him in 3 strides. His Mom then explained to him that he was "it" and had to now chase and tag me. After about 3 minutes of easy dodging I let him get me. He caught on quick and ran. I played easy on him. I was having fun. I was no longer lonely. I noticed his Mom watching us from inside the house, through the front window. She was still smiling. We all were.