199.235.123.237 at 17:33, 13 February 2009

2009-02-13T17:33:22Z

← Older revision		Revision as of 12:33, 13 February 2009
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	[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Slyford T. Rabbit]] {{DEFAULTSORT:Drift Away}}		[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Slyford T. Rabbit]] {{DEFAULTSORT:Drift Away}} [[Category:Fox]]
	{{title\|name=Drift Away\|user=Slyfordtrabbit\|author=Slyford T. Rabbit}}		{{title\|name=Drift Away\|user=Slyfordtrabbit\|author=Slyford T. Rabbit}}

Bryan: formatting, categories

2007-12-13T04:06:23Z

formatting, categories

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:06, 12 December 2007
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	Drift ~~away~~		[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Slyford T. Rabbit]] {{DEFAULTSORT:Drift Away}}
			{{title\|name=Drift Away\|user=Slyfordtrabbit\|author=Slyford T. Rabbit}}


	It was sunny outside on that Saturday afternoon. My friends came over eight to watch the cartoon fare on television -- back when Saturday morning television was king. We were munching on my mom's never-ending supply of candy, sprawled out on the couch in our play clothing, talking about how much we hated the girly girls at their school. And we really hated them; their cooties were over everything, we were convinced. They weren't as cool to be around as the guys.		It was sunny outside on that Saturday afternoon. My friends came over eight to watch the cartoon fare on television -- back when Saturday morning television was king. We were munching on my mom's never-ending supply of candy, sprawled out on the couch in our play clothing, talking about how much we hated the girly girls at their school. And we really hated them; their cooties were over everything, we were convinced. They weren't as cool to be around as the guys.
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	Trying not to listen, I clambered up onto The Glove's shoulders, reached for a branch on a large tree, and pulled myself up. From there I clambered up a few levels, and walked out onto a branch until I could drop onto the top of the brick wall. There were these black iron spikes coming out of the concrete cap; I had to step over them while setting up to let myself down on the other side of the wall.		Trying not to listen, I clambered up onto The Glove's shoulders, reached for a branch on a large tree, and pulled myself up. From there I clambered up a few levels, and walked out onto a branch until I could drop onto the top of the brick wall. There were these black iron spikes coming out of the concrete cap; I had to step over them while setting up to let myself down on the other side of the wall.

	~~* * *~~		{{Separator}}

	There was a small line of shrubbery to drop behind when I came off the wall; when I ducked down behind them there was a strong smell of wintergreen. Recently cut. Reminded me of my dad, who bordered on anal when it came to landscaping. With that thought on my mind I started crawling in the tiny space on my hands and knees.		There was a small line of shrubbery to drop behind when I came off the wall; when I ducked down behind them there was a strong smell of wintergreen. Recently cut. Reminded me of my dad, who bordered on anal when it came to landscaping. With that thought on my mind I started crawling in the tiny space on my hands and knees.
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	I snapped at him. "Just throw me my glove!" Sure enough, the thing flopped down on a shrub beside me. Just in time to catch the fox's first toss.		I snapped at him. "Just throw me my glove!" Sure enough, the thing flopped down on a shrub beside me. Just in time to catch the fox's first toss.

	~~* * *~~		{{separator}}

	Until my dying day I will not know what possessed me to play with Jimmy the fox-boy. By all accounts I should have sprinted to the only gate in the fenced-in yard, but something about the kid rubbed me the right way. I guess it's like those mud cakes my mom puts on her face; when someone else does it she screams her head off, but when it's of her own decision it's heaven.		Until my dying day I will not know what possessed me to play with Jimmy the fox-boy. By all accounts I should have sprinted to the only gate in the fenced-in yard, but something about the kid rubbed me the right way. I guess it's like those mud cakes my mom puts on her face; when someone else does it she screams her head off, but when it's of her own decision it's heaven.
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	"You'll feel better after playing a little baseball," I said with a smile, "Trust me." And I meant it. Baseball is the psychological equivalent of duct tape: one good game will cure pretty much anything that ails you. That and Nintendo: the recipe for good mental health.		"You'll feel better after playing a little baseball," I said with a smile, "Trust me." And I meant it. Baseball is the psychological equivalent of duct tape: one good game will cure pretty much anything that ails you. That and Nintendo: the recipe for good mental health.

	~~* * *~~		{{separator}}

	There was a chorus of blank stares on the Sandlot. I felt like I was in a bad comedian's joke -- probably the infamous "I just flew in and boy are my arms tired!" adage -- standing there with Jimmy. Looking back I could see that his tail was picking up grass clippings from the ground, it was dragging so much. On his face was the classic "deer in the headlights" stare.		There was a chorus of blank stares on the Sandlot. I felt like I was in a bad comedian's joke -- probably the infamous "I just flew in and boy are my arms tired!" adage -- standing there with Jimmy. Looking back I could see that his tail was picking up grass clippings from the ground, it was dragging so much. On his face was the classic "deer in the headlights" stare.
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	Once I had my glove back on the waving hand The Glove screamed "Play Ball!" Clouds gently rolled overhead. The first batter stepped into the box, tapped his shoes, and squatted down into stance. I nodded to Jimmy, then turned to see what kind of pitch Joey was gonna throw.		Once I had my glove back on the waving hand The Glove screamed "Play Ball!" Clouds gently rolled overhead. The first batter stepped into the box, tapped his shoes, and squatted down into stance. I nodded to Jimmy, then turned to see what kind of pitch Joey was gonna throw.

	~~* * *~~		{{separator}}

	Randall was our heavy hitter. He could put that ball anywhere he wanted on the field, at any time he pleased. He was so good, in fact, that the middle school coaches were already grooming him for a star position on their varsity team. And he was only in third grade! Third grade and already ready for the Majors.		Randall was our heavy hitter. He could put that ball anywhere he wanted on the field, at any time he pleased. He was so good, in fact, that the middle school coaches were already grooming him for a star position on their varsity team. And he was only in third grade! Third grade and already ready for the Majors.
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	"Thanks," I said humbly, "That would be cool." Sure, the thing had a mambo hole in the tail, but the pants looked pretty darned stylish. Maybe going along with this fox wouldn't be so bad, I suddenly thought.		"Thanks," I said humbly, "That would be cool." Sure, the thing had a mambo hole in the tail, but the pants looked pretty darned stylish. Maybe going along with this fox wouldn't be so bad, I suddenly thought.

	~~* * *~~		{{separator}}

	"It wouldn't be so bad" was an understatement; much like saying that the Powerball jackpot is just "a lot of money." Jimmy had the room that every little boy dreams of: racecar bed, TV with a CD-I – that thing cost more than my dad's car – and over all a gigantic slot car track. And when I say gigantic slot car track I mean awe-inspiring.		"It wouldn't be so bad" was an understatement; much like saying that the Powerball jackpot is just "a lot of money." Jimmy had the room that every little boy dreams of: racecar bed, TV with a CD-I – that thing cost more than my dad's car – and over all a gigantic slot car track. And when I say gigantic slot car track I mean awe-inspiring.
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	Apparently so, I thought, considering Jimmy's miracle play today. It wouldn't be so bad. And I walked out the door trying to convince myself of just that.		Apparently so, I thought, considering Jimmy's miracle play today. It wouldn't be so bad. And I walked out the door trying to convince myself of just that.

	~~* * *~~		{{separator}}

	I didn't sleep much that night; eventually I gave up on sleep and started playing my way through the newest Megaman. There were a lot of things on my mind: the sandlot, the construction crew, and Jimmy...		I didn't sleep much that night; eventually I gave up on sleep and started playing my way through the newest Megaman. There were a lot of things on my mind: the sandlot, the construction crew, and Jimmy...
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	"See you then!" and with that the fox hopped the backyard fence and disappeared into the woods. I went home to search for an ice pack.		"See you then!" and with that the fox hopped the backyard fence and disappeared into the woods. I went home to search for an ice pack.

	~~* * *~~		{{separator}}

	They all covered for the paintball sniper, of course; I didn't even get to see his face. That's how boys are; we'll cover for each other whenever someone's in need. Sure, they'd beat the crap out of a strange little kid, as long as the parents just thought he fell down a steep hill in the woods.		They all covered for the paintball sniper, of course; I didn't even get to see his face. That's how boys are; we'll cover for each other whenever someone's in need. Sure, they'd beat the crap out of a strange little kid, as long as the parents just thought he fell down a steep hill in the woods.
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	Too disgusted to skate I skated over to the arcade and went up to the baseball machine. I put my quarter in and started pounding the pitch and hit buttons. All I wanted to do was hit for the fences, suddenly.		Too disgusted to skate I skated over to the arcade and went up to the baseball machine. I put my quarter in and started pounding the pitch and hit buttons. All I wanted to do was hit for the fences, suddenly.

	~~* * *~~		{{separator}}

	Jimmy came out pretty well, actually. Most of the mobsters left with scratches in one place or another. Other than a little kink in his tail and a hunk of missing fur, there was nothing outwardly wrong with him. Not enough to dull the guilt in the back of my mind, unfortunately.		Jimmy came out pretty well, actually. Most of the mobsters left with scratches in one place or another. Other than a little kink in his tail and a hunk of missing fur, there was nothing outwardly wrong with him. Not enough to dull the guilt in the back of my mind, unfortunately.
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	I nodded and tried to chuckle. And as The Glove's mom drove into the night, I turned to wave goodbye to the fox standing alone in the doorway, wondering if he'd still want to ride bikes the next day.		I nodded and tried to chuckle. And as The Glove's mom drove into the night, I turned to wave goodbye to the fox standing alone in the doorway, wondering if he'd still want to ride bikes the next day.

	~~* * *~~		{{separator}}

	The next morning I woke up at about ten, feeling ragged and tired. Sure, it was summer, but there were usually too many things that we could do instead of sleeping in. I mean, we could have played five innings of baseball for those extra two hours of sleep...		The next morning I woke up at about ten, feeling ragged and tired. Sure, it was summer, but there were usually too many things that we could do instead of sleeping in. I mean, we could have played five innings of baseball for those extra two hours of sleep...

Bryan: User:Slyfordtrabbit/driftaway/ moved to User:Slyfordtrabbit/Drift Away: match page title to story title

2007-12-13T04:03:43Z

User:Slyfordtrabbit/driftaway/ moved to User:Slyfordtrabbit/Drift Away: match page title to story title

← Older revision		Revision as of 23:03, 12 December 2007
(No difference)

Slyfordtrabbit: A story about growing up, the rich and the poor, and innocent little fox-boys who don't know any better.

2007-12-13T03:39:11Z

A story about growing up, the rich and the poor, and innocent little fox-boys who don't know any better.

Show changes

User:Slyfordtrabbit/Drift Away - Revision history

199.235.123.237 at 17:33, 13 February 2009

Bryan: formatting, categories

Bryan: User:Slyfordtrabbit/driftaway/ moved to User:Slyfordtrabbit/Drift Away: match page title to story title

Slyfordtrabbit: A story about growing up, the rich and the poor, and innocent little fox-boys who don't know any better.