RobertWooten

The Ball in the Woods

When Raymond tried to join the soccer game,

someone picked up the ball and they stopped playing.

One of the players on the field said, "The teams are set.

You'll have to wait for the next game"-

whereupon Raymond retreated to the bleachers,

to where there was a growing crowd of players

waiting for the next game. A track surrounded the playing field,

and the bleachers were grounded inside

of the long side of the track

that was farthest from the woods.

As Raymond sat there he watched another fellow,

who bore a resemblance to Raymond,

who stood on the track watching the field

from in front of the bleachers. The others sitting behind him made little conversation,

though some of them talked individually amongst themselves.

Then, the game was finished. Those waiting arose from the bleachers,

and Raymond followed them. Then, they stepped onto the field.

He noticed that none of the new players brought a ball,

and he noticed that the old teams remained where they were

and appeared to be having a meeting.

The ball rested, central, on a small piece of turf;

suddenly, the meeting adjourned, the teammates clapped

hands, simultaneously; then, they stood away from the ball.

And the fellow who had been watching from the track walked on-

to the field, and, with the cleats that he was wearing, he booted the ball-

not only just from the playing field but also from the entire yard-

without a word to or from anyone.

Raymond watched the ball sail over the playing field, then over the track,

then over the far bleachers and through the trees, and into the woods.

That done, both of the old teams walked wordlessly off of the field,

along with the fellow who last had kicked the ball,

leaving the ball to the woods and the field to the newcomers.

The newcomers, Raymond amongst them, stood looking at each other,

showing each other their empty hands. Finally, Raymond said,

"Well, I guess that was the only ball." Raymond looked at the woods

where it had gone, and all eyes followed his.

Then, a tall boy, wearing glasses, braces and a medical bracelet, who,

with all eyes now upon him,

with brown eyes and thin brown hair, looked down into Raymond's eyes,

said, "Somebody go get the ball-so we can play!"

Raymond looked at the direction in which the ball had gone;

then, he looked up again at the boy and them

and, feeling that he had a pretty good idea of its direction,

began walking slowly toward it. Secretly, he hoped that someone would overtake him,

before he had to go down from the playing field.

Before anyone else could pursue it, the tall brown-headed boy said,

"Hurry! We haven't got all day. There's the ball!"

Raymond began to trot, not at all feeling like their hero.

Then, he broke into a jog.

At the woods' edge there was a fence, but the erosion along its base had made

a space large enough for Raymond to slip between the fence and the ground.

From that point the earth surface plummeted at a 40-degree angle,

and Raymond, enjoying the risky loose surface, jumped and slid down its dry face,

until it leveled off near a small stream-

about 50 yards downhill from the fence.

The leather ball lay floating in a still small black pool not far beneath a natural weir

of pine straw, leaves and dead branches.

In the foreground of the dense green underbrush on the stream's other side,

a girl stood holding a Dalmation puppy on a leash.

She watched Raymond with silent curiosity.

Raymond guessed that she must be about 13 years old,

with regard to her height and her feminine figure.

He jumped eagerly down the steep creek bank

onto a dry sand bar; then, he tentatively stepped toward the ball;

and, ignoring the girl's watchful gaze,

he spryly climbed the creek bank and gave her a last look and a smile.

She said, "Hey," and smiled to him. When he returned

he found his teammates sitting in a circle,

flipping coins and betting on whether or not he would find it.

Angrily, Raymond slammed the ball down into the field's playing surface;

it bounced 18 feet straight up. And he asked if anyone else was ready to play.

Raymond had taken ten minutes to find the ball and to return;

and, in the meantime, the tall fellow had left. Now,

those who had been in it for the money began to leave, too.

Seeing that there were not enough players, or betters, remaining

to play a soccer game and that they counted their winnings,

Raymond walked back to the wood's edge. He left the ball with them

on the field and slipped again under the fence. The girl might still be there,

he surmised, and perhaps he could get her

to play soccer with them. Again, he covered the downward distance

by jumping or sliding on the face of the embankment,

each short jump requiring several yards, each slide

requiring a jump to stop his fall. But when he looked

down to where she had been on the other side

there was nothing but another lost, rotting soccer ball

and a wall-like growth of underbrush and trees,

which he now noticed for the first time.

It was hard for him to believe

that she ever had been there.

So, again, Raymond, quietly, climbed back up to the field-

to see if anyone else would like to kick the ball for practice.

But by this time everyone else had left, too. Someone had taken the ball home,

and where they had been gathered nothing was stirring

but a free-floating dollar bill-which the wind soon lifted

from the field and blew over the fence and into the woods.

Then, he was alone.