That’s what’s so great about cement, you know. Small enough to do a neat job, but still strong enough to carve the letters deep into the concrete so they would be there forever. The stick was just the perfect size, too. It can give you the shivers if you think about it too much. Because there’s not a tree anywhere near the soccer field. And she’s already spotted a little stick lying in the grass next to her hand. I mean you’ve gotta be nuts leaving wet cement unguarded at a junior high school.Įspecially if there’s an eighth-grade girl sitting across the field who’s been watching you all afternoon. I still can’t believe no one stayed behind to guard the new sidewalk they’d just poured. It was almost dark when they finally went home. In addition to staring you down, I can also wait you out. It’s another talent of mine, I guess you’d say. So it was pretty clear they were going to be working there for a while.Įven so, I decided to wait them out. Unfortunately, right across the field from me, a group of noisy workmen were banging around putting up a new set of permanent bleachers. I grinned at the memory and sat down in the grass. I kept hitting myself in the foot with the sand wedge and Mick kept getting the putter caught in his pants. Living so close to school, we used to go down there all the time and kick the soccer ball around or throw the Frisbee or something.Ī couple of months ago, we even tried playing polo on our bikes using my father’s golf clubs. I mean there were lots of good memories of Mick at that field too.
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