winkgirl4's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- You just Never Know I can distinctly remember the first time I ever felt as though I accomplished something big. It was both frightening and wonderful at the same time. It was so thrilling that I can still remember it, well over 20 years later. It was just another ordinary day full of ordinary activities at Lafayette Elementary School in Long Beach, California. My peanut butter & jelly sandwich and Cheetos were in a crumpled, brown paper bag in the coat cubby. Phillip Holiday, who earned my interest by having the uncanny ability to make a police siren sound with his voice, was flirting with Marjorie Fan, who possessed no appreciation or interest in his siren wailing expertise. She busied herself by drawing pretty little pictures of families in front of houses with bright, shiny suns up in the corner. It was a day full of reading circles and timed math quizzes and PE. Being the overly sensitive and reclusive child that I was, I didn�t really enjoy PE. But, come on, who really enjoyed PE? I mean, unless you are the big bully who never has to return to class with heat-radiating, circular welts all over your body from a playing games of dodge ball or the kid who is never-failingly able to kick homeruns in kick ball, no one really enjoys PE. PE is specifically designed to prepare us for how life will torture and humiliate us- not provide us with methods by which we could be educated, physically. (They don�t tell you this until later, when you go on to get your education degree, after which you�re sworn to secrecy. Oops.) It was during one particular game of kickball that it happened- that I became extraordinary. Our school�s bully and phenomenal kickball player just happened to be the same person. Joel Ashburn used to kick the ball so hard that it would bounce clear across the playground. We would watch him saunter around the bases three or four times while we waited for some poor sap to go and retrieve the ball that was now about a hundred yards away. It helped very little that the sap would get a head start by crossing to the playground�s opposite end whenever Joel�s turn was approaching. No one ever tried to catch the ball, not even when a gust from the gods kept the ball within a catchable distance. If the speed of the ball didn�t pulverize you on impact then Joel definitely would for causing him to be called out. Anyway, there I was- off in my own world and standing as far away from the action as possible (but still on the field so that I could get credit for playing)- when it happened. I remember seeing the ball flying down out of the sky and directly towards me and, without thinking, I caught it- with a thud, I might add. It was so hard that I fell back and landed right on my�uh�well, my butt. Had I been paying attention I would have understood the looks of admiration and fear that filled that playground, but, alas, I was clueless. Clueless until I looked up and noticed that Joel was walking towards me. Should I drop the ball and run home? Should I toss it to someone else and try to confuse him with misdirection? Should I try to peg him with it in hope that, today, I would have super-human strength and it would knock him out while made my escape to Mexico? All of those seemed decent options. Instead, I got to my feet and stood there while he glared at me and snatched the ball from my hands. The game continued in a lull as we stood in shock wondering what would happen when recess came and Joel would find sweet retribution. I anxiously returned to class, finding little comfort in the whispered congratulatory offerings. I bit my nails as social studies sped by for the first time in history (pardon the pun.) I found it hard to swallow as the peanut butter and jelly sandwich inched past my gullet and landed on my very first nervous stomach at lunch. I remember wanting to offer to help the ladies in the kitchen with the dishes to keep from having to go out for recess but instead I nibbled on that sandwich as though it were going to be my last meal. Who knew? I might have been. Recess was uneventful. Well, I mean if you consider the hushed words of people standing around in huddled masses, looking over their shoulders at me and then to Joel uneventful, then it certainly was. I sat on the stairs outside the school�s entrance wondering what I could say to him. �Hey, if I�d have know it was your ball, I wouldn�t have caught it. I promise.� Or, �Heh, heh, you win some, you lose some.� Or �Ohhhh, you must be thinking of my twin sister, Heather. Yeah, she went home sick. Said something about a terminal illness� I�m not sure. Okay, bye now.� None of that was necessary because, as the minutes and hours whiled away in the classroom and I anticipated my eventual thrashing, something odd happened. During the same time that I spent wondering if I would have to return to school in a full body brace, Joel had been drawing me an impressive picture of a lion. It was far better than any picture I�d ever seen Marjorie Fan draw. Amazingly, I was more impressed than I was relieved. I looked at the picture for a while and then over to Joel and just smiled. Joel Ashburn, whether I liked it or not, became my best friend. He invited me to play games with him. He was my partner when we played marbles at recess. He was the first person I ever heard say that purple was their favorite color. He made me realize that there was more to life than being with a boy who could make noises like a police car. Really, after a while that would get old. It would really only be amusing at parties and while visiting our less than law-abiding relatives. I still wonder what became of Joel. I�m sure that he turned out to be gay and is supporting his art career by playing professional kick ball. I�m not quite sure if catching that ball or making that friend was my first big accomplishment, but either way, isn�t it fun to remember things like that? 2:24 p.m. - 2002-12-19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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