Date: Tue, 24 Apr 2007 19:35:55 -0700 (PDT)
From: Nifty Stories <nothinglts07@yahoo.com>
Subject: Where Was I?

I turned the TV off and let the remote slide out of my hand onto the couch.
Who would've guessed there was nothing interesting to watch on a Wednesday
afternoon?  I had planned on going back to the pool again and lying out,
but the weather had put a quick stop to that plan.  I got up and lazily
walked over to the window.  In the distance I could see some police lights
painting the surrounding area blue.  I guess there must be some major
crisis like: a trash can missing again.  That's pretty much the most
exciting thing that ever happens in my complex.  Either that or maybe
someone parked their car over the line a little too much.  People here will
overreact about the stupidest of stuff.

I got bored of starting out at the rain, but as I turned back walk to my
computer room, I saw him.  Wait, is it him?  Yes, it definitely is.  I was
quite sure I recognized him from the other day.  Now, he was sitting in
some pine straw huddled up against the building with his arms wrapped
tightly around his knees.  There aren't many overhangs at all, so he's
probably half protected from the light yet constant precipitation.  Should
I got out there and do something for him?  Certainly he doesn't want to
just sit there and get soaked.  He must have a reason for being there.

I walked over to my front door that is on the opposite side of my
apartment.  I opened it just to see how cold it was.  If it was cold
enough, I decided, I would have no choice but to go out there and see what
he was doing.  If it was warm (which it usually is around here this time of
the year), I'll just have to let it go.  After all, we barely even know
each other...

It was just a couple of days ago I was sitting by the pool lounging like I
usually do on Sunday afternoons.  I was lying on my stomach with my face
tilted to the side so it got a little bit of sunlight.  At that moment, I
had my eyes closed and I was trying to relax, but there were about 4 or so
boys making as much noise as I think is humanly possible.  Running around
everywhere and splashing water all over the place.  I looked around for
their parents, but I didn't see them, but the boys looked like they were
almost 15, so they were technically allowed to be at the pool unsupervised,
no matter how annoying they were being.

After looking all of them over in a fair amount of detail, I realized I had
seen them around before.  Well, all of them except for one, that is.  But
he seemed much younger.  He couldn't have been more than 9 years old and
was probably closer to 8.  His brown hair was cut to a medium length that
was somewhere between being a bowl cut and being shaggy.  The more I
thought about it, the more I remembered seeing him somewhere before, but
couldn't for the life of me place it.  It's one of those things that'll
keep me occupied for hours trying to figure out, and then once I do, I'll
kick myself for not being able to think of it in the first place.  I tried
not to worry about it too much right now and laid my head back down on the
chair.

The boys continued to have their loud, obnoxious fun and I thought I'd
start to listen in on what they were doing.  It was very easy to
distinguish the older boys' voices from the younger one as they were much,
much deeper.  It sounded like the younger one was many years away from even
thinking about having his voice change.  And for some reason, his voice
didn't seem to strike every single never I had like the older boys' did, so
I tried to channel in on it and removed all the excess noise.  It was then
I realized that something wasn't quite right.  The younger boy wasn't
saying anything that could be taken as alarming, but the tone in which he
was speaking and the way he said things led me to believe he wasn't having
as much fun as the older boys were.

I opened my eyes and rotated my head so I could see in the directions the
boys were.  Surveying the rest of the pool deck I saw that the level of
horseplay by the boys had driven everyone one else away.  Not that there
were many people here at the pool to begin with, though.  With the
exception of the couple of kids that were usually here, not many adults
felt it was "socially appropriate" to be seen pool side with their kids.
The attitudes some of the parents have in this place makes me want to smack
each and every one of them... over and over and over again.  And then they
all wonder why their kids are so rebellious and out of control.  Well,
maybe if you all weren't a bunch of snobs, it wouldn't have come to this.

Of course, maybe I haven't been living here long enough to judge these
people.  I graduated last spring and have been here ever since, so I guess
about a year now.  The place seemed really nice when I moved in, but that
turned out just to be a superficial façade and now I'm not really friends
with any of my neighbors.  Usually, something like that would upset me, but
around these people, I have no desire to even be in the same room as some
of them.  Anyway...

When I refocused my eyes back on the group of boys, I saw they were playing
some sort of chasing game.  Could have been sharks and minnows, I guess,
but with all the older boys being sharks?  No I don't think that was it.
The younger boy was swimming in all directions just to try and get away
from the older boys.  He hadn't said it up until now, at least not that I
heard, but he suddenly told the older boys to stop chasing him.  They
looked at each other and laughed before continuing their pursuit.  The
younger hopped out of the pool and started to streak for the other side
with the older boys hot on his tail.  As he rounded the corner, he almost
did a face plant right into the cement, but recovered at the last second.
As he pulled out of his tight turn, one of the older boys pulled out a wet
tennis ball and hurled it at the younger one.  Fortunately, it missed him
and sailed into the corner against a fence.

If there's one thing I hate it's a bully.  I was bullied a lot when I was a
kid, and if there's anything worse than a bully, it's a pack of them, and
this situation was shaping up to be just that.  I couldn't stand it a
minute longer; I had to do something about this.

"Hey!  Cut it out!  He told you to stop!" I yelled at them.  The younger
boy turned to me, but I couldn't detect the faintest bit of thanks in his
expression, he was still in a terror state.  Fortunately, the older boys
stopped running and sat down on some of the chairs on the opposite side of
the pool as me.  The younger boy went and sat down on the chair his towel
was on which was far enough away from the older boys where he felt at least
a little safe.  He wrapped the towel around himself and started drying his
face.  He did so often, though, so there might have even been some tear
involved, but I was much too far away to tell.

I looked back over at the older boys keeping as much disdain in my face as
I possibly could.  By now, I was sitting up, but leaning back a little in
my chair so I could keep an eye on things.  I almost felt as if this little
boy was my responsibility now, and for some reason or another, I kind of
liked being able to provide some sort of protection.  The older boys were
huddled close together and every so often in the middle of their
conversation, one or more of them would look over in my direction.  I knew
they had to be plotting something against me, but I had no idea what it
could possibly be.

Turns out, the boys were not plotting against me, but against the younger
boy once again.  Before I could even realize what was happening, they had
picked him up, which his only towel wrapped around him and tossed him in
the pool, drenching his towel.  When I wasn't looking one of the older boys
had retrieved the tennis ball and once the younger boy was in the pool, he
chucked it at him.  Unfortunately, he had a much more accurate throw than
the previous tosser did, and it hit the younger boy directly on the back
and ricocheted in my direction.  The ball bounced a couple times but the
water dampened its motion in a hurry and it came to a halt right at my
feet.  The older boys were so proud that they had hit their target, their
outburst of laughter kept them occupied enough to not even care where the
ball went.

That was it, now I was pissed.  First the chasing, and now some physical
abuse?  I picked up tennis ball and clenched it tight in my fist.  I cocked
my arm back and heaved it at the pack of older boys with all of my might.
As an aside, I was a pitcher for my high school baseball team, so not only
can I throw pretty accurately, but I can get some decent power behind the
ball.  Of course, it's been many, many years since I've practiced, and even
more since I've played, but I felt confident after the ball left my hand.

BOOM!  Right in one of the older boys' left shoulder blade.  Right after
impact, the ball popped almost straight up into the air as the boy buckled
in obvious pain.  All four of the older boys' heads snapped toward me at
the same time; each of their faces held a sort of shell-shocked expression.
Well, all of them except for the one I pegged... he was grimacing.  In a
grand stroke of pure luck (I couldn't do it again if I tried), the ball
bounced once, twice, and then right back into my right hand.

"Get outta here!" I yelled at the pack as I pulled my arm back threatening
another throw.  That was all the inspiration the boys needed to scramble to
get their towels and shirts and make a break for the exit gate.  As the boy
I tagged ran by me, I saw a very large, very distinct red welt on his left
shoulder.  My mission of getting the older boys away had not only
succeeded, but I was also able to have some fun with a bully in the
process.  Technically, I could get in trouble for something like this, but
I counted on the pride of a 15-year-old to make him keep it to himself for
fear of coming off as a pansy.

With the older boys out of sight, the younger one slowly waded over to the
steps and climbed out of the pool.  This time, his eyes were pretty wet and
he held his head low as he walked back to his chair, so I was almost
positive he was crying, at least a little.  By now, I had taken my seat
again and since it was just the two of us, and his head was usually tilted
down at the ground, I got to gaze at him some more.  As his hair dried in
the hot sunlight, I realized he was more blonde than I originally thought.
I know darkness is bound to happen when hair gets wet, I guess I just
underestimated it in this case.

His towel was a typical beach towel with 7 alternating striped of orange
and white running down the long side.  He was wearing a set of trunks that
looked almost solid blue with maybe a little bit of white down at the
opening for the leg.  Every so often, the concrete under his feet would dry
and become warm, so he kept fidgeting.  He looked up and we made eye
contact.  Being so far away, I couldn't tell what color they were.  Right
after he saw me looking at him, he dipped his head back down.  Not sure if
it was in shame or embarrassment or what.  I decided that he probably just
wanted to be left alone, so I reclined my chair and laid back down; this
time face up.  I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the sun take me over.

It wasn't long before the sun was suddenly and rapidly shielded from
hitting my face and the back of my eyelids went from red to black.  I
popped my eyes open and saw what was causing the obstruction.  The boy I
had just aided not too long ago was now towering over me about 2 feet to my
left.  It was hard to make out his face because the sun was creating a hard
silhouette of his head.  I let my eyes adjust for a second.

"Hello, there."  I finally replied after regaining my bearings.

"Hi," his juvenile voice peeped back at me.

"Are you OK?" I prodded.

"Yeah.  Why did you save me?"  His tone was so ambiguous; I couldn't tell
if he was angry or relieved, so I didn't have any emotion to play off of.

"Well, it looked like those older kids were pushing you around, and it
sounded like you wanted them to stop and they wouldn't.  Is that right?"
This kid I just saved couldn't possibly be mad at me, could he?

"Yeah, I did want them to stop, but they don't like me.  And they never
ever listen to me."  He sounded so weak and frail as it came out.

"Does this happen to you a lot?"  It looks like the situation I just put
myself in the middle of might be a lot bigger than I anticipated.

"Kinda.  Sometimes I like to shoot the basketball, and Brett and his dumb
friends always come up and steal the ball from me."  His despair now had a
hint of rage tacked on.  So Brett must be the ring leader of the pack.  Not
that I know which of them Brett is to begin with, though.

"Really, that's too bad.  Why don't you just tell your Mom or Dad?"  I
mean, that's usually what kids of his age do first, right?  By now, my eyes
had fully adjusted to the contrast of the scene and I could tell his eyes
were a very stunning shade of blue.  I can't say I've ever really seen eyes
that had such color to them.  Usually, eye colors are like a mixture of a
unique color and gray, but there was no gray to be had here, not even a
little.  His face was also clear of any moles, freckles, or blemishes; save
for the two dimples that I could tell would become very pronounced if this
kid ever smiled.

"My Mom wouldn't care."  No mention of his father.  I wonder if there is a
story there.  As he said that, he sat down on the lounge chair next to be,
but now faced the pool, as I did.  I didn't really know what to say next,
so I just sat there staring for a while.

"So how long have you lived here?"  I might as well get some details on him
while I have him here, right?

"About a month I guess."  That might explain why I hadn't seen him around
much.  Come to think of it, I might have just seen him walking around with
his Mom a while ago and that's where I remembering him from.

"Well, my name is Jim, and I've lived here for about a year."  I hoped he
would tell me his name in return.  I didn't even have to wait to find out.

"Chase Alexander Baxter!" came a shout from the entrance of the pool.  I
jerked my head to get a view at the source.  It was a woman in a business
suit who had to be in her early thirties.  Could be late twenties even, I
thought.

My eyes then flicked back to Chase who was now looking at, who I could only
guess, was his mother.  He looked genuinely surprised to see her, and that
wasn't a good thing, not with the tone she was using.

"I told you to be back at the house at 2:30, I've got to leave!"
Apparently the original shouting of his name didn't calm her down in a bit.
Chase was now scrambling to get his (still wet) towel and flip-flops from
his original chair.  By now, she was standing about 10 feet away from me,
and I was turned looking at her.  Our eyes locked for a brief second and I
turned back to face the pool.  Chase scooted by her and out the front door.
I heard her car peel away from the parking lot.

Where was I?  Right, the rain...  I opened the front door and stuck my hand
out.  The rain was coming down a little harder than I originally estimated:
not so light anymore.  The weather was also surprisingly cold.  Actually,
there's a good chance that it wasn't even a little bit cold but I convinced
myself it was so I could go out and see what was up.  I grabbed my umbrella
from the front hall and set off out the door.

He didn't even see me walk up.  He was almost in a trance before he felt
the rain stop hitting his head.  I was standing to his left, and he looked
all the way up at me.  He eyes seemed convincingly emotionless and he
turned to stare back at the ground.  I sat down beside him holding the
umbrella between us.

"You know it's raining, right?"  I guess I'd have to be the first one to
talk.  He turned his head again to look at me.  At that moment he started
to shiver.  I guess it had gotten to the point where his clothes became
saturated and could no longer keep him warm.  He still didn't speak,
though.  "What are you doing out here, anyway?"

"I got locked out of the house."  Well that's weird.  Obviously no one was
home watching him.  Is it really appropriate for an 8-year-old (still
guessing) boy to be staying home all by himself?

"Well how did that happen?"  There must be some rational explanation for
this.

"My Mom had to go to work for an hour and I was just going to stay home
alone.  It was only going to be for an hour.  Right before she left, I went
outside to pick up a ball I saw from my window."  As spoke of his window,
he pointed up and to the left.  His window faced my bedroom window, only
across a narrow parking lot and a road.  "When I came back to the front
door, it was locked, and my Mom's car was gone."

"That's too bad.  She must've thought you were inside still."  He just
shrugged at that comment, almost as if saying, `I doubt it.'  I helped him
before, and I wasn't bound to let that streak stop here, so I pointed over
to my window and said, "Why don't you come inside with me and we can watch
some TV until your Mom gets home."  For the first time since I met him, he
actually smiled, and what a smile it was.

I stood up first and then he followed suit standing as close to me as
possible trying to stay under the umbrella.  We walked as one back to my
front door and inside where I tossed the umbrella on the ground in the
front hall.  Chase just stood there looking around for a bit.

"Hold on, I'll go get you a towel."  I dashed off to my laundry room to
retrieve a freshly washed and folded beach towel from the stack.  When I
returned, I found he had inched his was forward almost into my living room.
He only had his flip-flops on to begin with, so he slid them off on the
hardwood and stepped onto the carpet.  I placed the towel over his head and
he just let it sit there.  I gave him a moment to do something with it
before taking my own actions.  I grabbed the towel and dried his hair with
it and then slung it around his shoulders.  Unexpectedly, he gave me
another smile.

I walked into the living room and sat down on the couch.  Chase walked over
beside me and just stood there.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't want to get your sofa wet.  My Mom would kill me if I got our
furniture wet."

"It's just water, and it's doesn't even have chlorine in it like it would
from the pool.  It's no big deal; you can sit down... really."

Almost reluctantly he sat down right beside me as I flipped my TV back on.
I may be a college graduate, but that doesn't mean I don't still watch
shows and channels designed primarily for kids.  I turned to the Disney
Channel and we came into an episode of The Suite Life about halfway though.

"I love this show."  Another smile out of him.  I must be getting good at
it.  Who doesn't love this show, though?

It wasn't long before his eye focus shifted from the television to my
window where he saw his Mom's Lexus whiz by.

"My Mom's home," he proclaimed getting to his feet.  He handed me back the
towel that was still around his shoulders.  "Thanks, Jim."  He slipped on
his flip-flops and hurried towards the door.  I guess he didn't want to be
late for meeting his mother... again.

"Oh, no problem at all.  Hey, maybe I'll see you around."  He flashed me
another trademark grin and opened the door.

"I hope so," was all he said before closing the door and dashing across the
parking lot to intersect with his mother getting out of the car.  She was
visibly taken aback that he was out of the house and probably more confused
that he was wet considering it wasn't raining anymore.  Chase would have a
bit of explaining to do.  I wonder if any of it would involve me?


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