Anti-Derby

A short, short story that featurs time travel mixed in with roller derby!

Anti-Derby

By K.Herzog

 

Stanley didn’t like sport, but his workmates were sports fans. They would gather around the water cooler in the office tea room and talk about football, car racing, soccer and boxing but Stanley had nothing to contribute to their conversations.  He would brace himself before talking.  He’d brush his sandy blonde hair, tilt his head to the left side and talk about something from the news, they’d look at him, one of them would interrupt with a crude and offensive comment, the rest would laugh and then continue talking about sport.  Stanley would slouch with his head hung low, sigh, straighten his tie as if to regain dignity and walk back to his desk.

 

Stanley was winding down after work by walking through the city.  He was franticly walking through the crowed in his blue office suite anxious to get coffee when he saw a poster for roller derby.  Stanley was stunned by this incredibly new thing he discovered.  In the middle of the community notice board the red, black and white tattered poster stood out form the other black and white posters for gigs and political events.  The poster was about a roller derby information night at the local skating rink, a call out for recruits.

 

'That could be fun.'

 

Stan went to the information night, enjoyed what he saw and got along well with the people.  After the information session the all stayed back at the rink and had coffee and cake which was laid out on a table.  Stan was drinking coffee from a paper cup talking to a roller derby instructor when he blurted out.

 

"That's it, I'm doing this!"

 

Stanley declared to the instructor.  A chubby young man with short cropped golden blonde hair.

 

"Got any ideas for a derby name?"

 

The instructor said to him Stanley thought about it.

 

"Yeah...call me.....Nine Inch Snails!"

 

The instructor laughed as he held he is pot belly and big round checks glowed red.  He loved it.

 

"I get it, like the band."

 

Stanley was impressed that the man got the reference, not many people have heard of Nine Inch Nails and he was worried the pun would go un-noticed.  Stanley was in good company.  Everyone at the information night was very friendly and interesting to talk to.  Most of all they’d listen to Stanley and actually show interest in what he was talking about.

 

Stanley’s first training session was good.  He was a fast learner and picked up the pace with skating.  Stan learned about skating anti-derby, skating clockwise.

 

'what would happen if you skate really fast anti-derby? Would it summon Satan?'

 

Stan joked to himself while trying to skate properly around the apex of the skate track.

 

Many months later Stan excelled at roller derby but skating really fast anti derby bothered him. At training one afternoon he stayed back in the hall after everyone left.  The trainers got to know Stan well and trusted him, so they left him the keys to the hall knowing he’d enthusiastically show up early with the keys next session.  Geared up and curious, Stan was finally going to skate really fast anti derby. He skated faster and faster until something happened, he flew off into the air, landing on softer grassy ground, tumbling until he stopped, lying on his back with the sun in his eyes.

 

Stan was now in a grassy field with a clear blue sky. It would almost be serene if it weren't for the loud crack and booming sound in the distance.  Sitting up, Stan was on a hillside.  Looking to his right, Stan could see in the distance down the hill was a large group of men in grey facing another large group of men in blue.  It looked as though they were pointing long wooden sticks with shinning shard of metal on the end at each other.  Stan noticed those ‘long sticks with the shiny shards’ were making the cracking sound and clouds of smoke were coming out of the tip.  That’s when it clicked.

 

‘That’s the cracking sound of muskets…..those are muskets and the booming sound must be cannon fire…’

 

Stan freaked out, realising he can't run on ground in skates, he frantically untied them, picked them up and ran towards an old looking town.

 

It dawned on him and Stan started to mumble to himself as he does when he gets nervous.

 

"This is what happens when you skate anti derby really fast...you go back in time!"

 

Stan just so happened to be thinking is of a US Civil War novel he read when in college.

 

"Maybe this is a Wizard of Oz deal...click your skates three times saying 'there's no place like home' and your there...maybe I'm going insane after all I am talking to myself!"

 

Walking quickly through the abandoned dirt street of a town that looked like it came out of a Cowboy film, Stan could only think that skating anti derby again would send him back.  But if Stan was going to do that he’d need a flat wooden surface like the basketball court that he’d train on. 

 

“It’s the nineteenth century, there’s gotta’ be a dance hall or town hall I could use.”

 

Stan made sure he’d run through the back streets and alleyways.  The town looked partially deserted but there were still people running around in panic.  Stan did his best to ignore the mayhem and focus on trying to get back.

 

He found the town hall.  Stan looked into the windows and there was no one inside.  He quickly looked around the entrance, left side and back of the nice old building.  People in the front street ignored him as they were too busy getting supplies to their homes.  There was no one around right side of the hall so he smashed the window and carefully climbed in. Stan put back on his skates, moved any broken glass, debris anything that he would trip or crash into.  The hall was mostly clear except for old wooden chairs stacked along the walls and a piano in the top let corner by the stage.  Once the black and white chunky skates were on, Stan skate as fast as he could anti derby and thought about home, or at least the basket ball court his training session was on.

 

Again, Stan flew off the track and slammed into the wall so hard he fell onto his back with a sore nose that bumped into the wall.  It hurt so much that all Stan could do was roll on his back with eyes clenched s**t with pain, holding his nose.

 

‘That’s gotta’ be bleeding.’

 

He thought but there was no blood, just a lot of pain.  He felt winded as if he got hit by a car.  Feeling stunned, Stan wasn’t going to get up soon until he heard.

 

"There he is!"

 

A friendly voice called out.

 

"About bloody time you showed up!"

 

Stan stumbled up clutching his nose.  Looking arund he could see the basket ball court he left.  He was back in his home time however other people were just entering the hall with their gym bags ready to get geared up for a roller derby test that wasn’t due for a week.  So Stan returned but days into the future.  The people stopped to help him but Stan didn't explain what just happened or where he's been. He nervously carried on with the skate test he was supposed to do that day...and failed miserably.

 

Stan quit roller derby but still skates...slowly and never anti derby.