7

Chad loved going to his school’s football games. He got to see his students in an even less natural setting than the classroom.

 

"Hey, man," Mr. Rhode said, "starting a new one?" The boy stood awkwardly, trying to read while standing in line and blend in at the same time.  He wasn’t very tall, had medium brown hair and a strong nose that stood out on his baby face.  He wore a band t-shirt that Chad had never heard of and tight but sagging jeans.  The most remarkable thing about the kid was his bright blue eyes�"Chad wondered if that’s why he rarely raised his eyes to others.

 

"Oh, uh, yeah," he mustered. He ordered without looking up and walked away with an enormous diet coke and a deep slouch. Chad watched after him.

 

“Hey Mr. Rhode” Chad’s attention shifted quickly back to the concession stand, “what d’you want?” It was a student from second period honors. 

 

“Just a burger and a large coke, Judy.  No, a medium,” he corrected, thinking back to the slouched figure with the enormous drink, “so when are they gonna pay you for this?”  Judy wore her Key Club jersey and pearls every Friday for club meetings.  Chad wondered how students got started in these clubs�"it seemed like there were never any new members, but rather the same group of students year in and year out.  “Whatever Mr. Rhode,” Judy smiled.  She gave him his change.  “Don’t have too much fun,” he said as he tossed the change in the donation cup and left to find a seat.  A lot of kids came out tonight.  Chad never really did this sort of thing in high school.  He was on the wrestling team but who gave a damn about wrestling?  Plus things felt busier back in the IB program; strangely so, since it wasn’t like anyone in IB really studied. 

 

Chad took his time leaving after the game�"he didn't like rushing just to sit in a line of traffic. Huddled on the bottom tier of the bleachers, he unlocked his phone only for it to die.  “Damn,” he said under his breath.  Mariah hadn’t called him back yet.  He was a little anxious to ask her out while he had the nerve.  He folded his arms and looked around. The wind was loud but it carried all sorts of sounds rather than blocking them out�"an AP somewhere yelled at two kids (something about indecent behavior?) and some kids honked their horns to celebrate the big win.  It also carried a strong chill.  He zipped up his jacket and buried his hands in his pockets. 

 

The lights left glaring rings in the sky. [add something about how light works or too cheesy?] Then he heard it--a long, sad cry. Was the wind distorting it? Maybe it was just the whine of a car or a swing set somewhere.  “Yeah,” he thought, “like a swing set in some cheesy horror flick.  Or a Lifetime special.  Is she overprotective?  No, she’s just a mom.”  Or maybe it was...his heart sank as he stood up and looked around for a kid, but all he saw was the empty field.  It seemed like no one had stuck around.

 

There it was again.  He clunked down the last few bleachers and almost hopped onto the grass from urgency.  It had to be coming from across the field.  He walked steadily against the wind when the lights behind him went out with one echoing click. He was in the middle of the field.  It reminded him of a riddle he heard as a kid--how far can you go into the woods? The answer is half way because any further and you'd be going out of the woods.  He looked up ahead at the remaining lights only to be blinded by the darkness with another singular click.  The sound’s echo made his chest feel empty. He recovered slightly when he spotted one final light in the left corner of the field.  He hesitated.  Back in college he went camping once and he remembered how their flashlights illuminated one spot at the expense of making everything else invisible.  If he went any further he’d be walking into someone’s spotlight.  But the kid cried again. He didn’t think�"he just jogged towards the light. It cried again and he realized it was under the bleachers.   

 

The shadows were shifty but as he got closer he could see something really was moving. 

 

He reached his hand down to a head of wiry grey hair, "what're u doing here?"  The head lifted and a pair of deep, sad eyes met Chad’s.  It was a dog. It whined in its scratched throat�"it had to be thirsty after all that yelling. Its hair hung over its deep-set eyes like unkempt, worried eyebrows. And no collar.

"Can you get up?" he asked as he gently lifted the dog's front a little and guided him out from the bleachers. As though he expected to find someone, he got down slowly and looked around. Nothing. So what was up with this dog?  It didn't seem hurt now, but those cries were so...he just needed to get the dog home.

Reviews

[Aeneas Barton]

There is a typo in the second to last paragraph, and where you put that note, do indeed add something else. It seems like you are jumping into the cry. It wouldn't be too cheesy if you added something else in there about light works or anything really.