Go LongA Story by B.k.A very short story i was working on...not perfect but I am still working on it
As the clock turned to nine, I was sitting on my couch watching a foreign film about a young woman’s journey to self-realization and wondering why does she have to be so nude and have so much sex with weird random, Speedo clad Europeans to find herself, maybe it’s a European thing. I set an empty Heineken bottle next to his empty brethren and walk into the kitchen to get another beer. Glancing at the clock I see that I am officially an hour late, as I open the bottle. I take a sip of my libation and a memory of my brother springs to mind.
He was a standout high school football player, and I, at the time, was a husky boy who was better at turning pages than catching out patterns. Yet, in those rare occasions when he had no other person he could think of to practice his throws, he would call my number. As much as I hated, and still do hate football, I always jumped at this chance. It was in those moments when I actually felt like I had a sibling as opposed sharing a house with someone that I kind of looked like and knew my parents liked better.
As we walked outside together toward the vacant lot across the street from our house, he tossed the football to himself. Never the one to enjoy the sound silence, he would talk about his football exploits on and off the field. And there were even sometimes when actually asked about what was going on in my life. Although, his conversations normally revolved around explaining the greatness that is football, if there were any hot girls in my class I wanted to f**k and how I could trick them into it.
Our conversation would continue until we set foot on the vacant lot. Then any semblance of interest in my life was tossed aside and all he could do was speak in football terms. It was on this lot that I learned what fly patterns, fade routes, corner routes are and I learned that no matter how hard I pushed my stocky legs, I could never do them just right. The latter is probably why this moment became more rare as I got older. He would do as much as he could with what little patience he had, then, without fail, when he became bored with my incredible lack of skill he would yell out,
“ Go Long!”
That was my cue to do the one route I could do well. I would take off at as quick as my chubby legs would take me. Running with the confidence and assurance that this was the one way I could show him that I beneath my layers of baby fat and lack of hand – eye coordination, I could do one thing well. As I felt the wind pass by me, and the distance between my brother and me greaten, I envisioned the moment when I would look over my shoulder to see that scuffed brown pigskin seemingly floating in the air, waiting to come down at the exact moment I reached out to pluck it from the sky. That moment when I actually could show him I could measure up, that moment that never came. For when I looked back towards the sky there was no ball, and soon I realized that there was no one else out there in that vacant lot, only me, out of breath, with legs that were burning with the pain of lost hope.
It is now 9:30, I was supposed to be there an hour ago. My cell phone springs to life, yet I put it on silent. I already know who it is, and what she is going to say.
I remember the worst part was having to walk back into the house to see my brother on the couch, rather pleased with his little trick. His smug grin and a subtle chuckle as I walked past in silence and took myself up to my room always both enraged and belittled me all at once. I found my solace in my shelves of books, my oasis, the one place where I excelled and I go further than any ball he could throw.
10:15, while the credits roll on my television, I reach through the two other beer bottles and picked up my phone. Four missed calls and a new voicemail, I scroll to her number and press talk. The phone rings twice and she answers with questions. I listen and as she finishes, I start to speak, but only two words are on my mind,
“Go Long”
© 2008 B.k. |
Stats
87 Views
Added on August 7, 2008 Author
|