Alright people, last week I introduced the Manti City Park and the basics of the Night Games that would take palace therein. So, if you didn’t read that post, I’m a little hurt, but I’ll get over it.
Ugghh… gack… cough… wheeze…
Just kidding. I’m fine. Only my feelings are hurt. No big deal. I’m used to it—I work at a middle school. (I know what I wrote)
Play is important. Children need play. Adults need play. People need play. And, it was when I played these Summertime night games of Jailbreak that I would have an edge when it came to hiding, making the play that much more delightful—for me. It was something gifted to me by my older brother: A full ninja outfit, a ninja-yoroi. I had all the pieces—in traditional style. I even had the boots that are designed to wear with sandals (the big toe is separated from the other toes—it made climbing a chain-link fence easier than anybody with sneakers. you try to stick your sneaker shoe into one of those openings. it ain’t happening as easy as it would for me. my toes went into the links and could grip like a monkey because of those tabi boots). With that ninja gear on I blended into the shadows like nobody’s business. Newbies always hated it because they thought it unfair. Only a fool gives up his advantage. Besides, it’s not my fault I had a brother that bought one when he was a teenager when ninjas were everywhere and in everything—all the time, but we couldn’t always see them because they were ninjas—and eventually handed it down to me and they didn’t. Not my fault.
Once, while in my ninja outfit, I was being mercilessly hunted by the ‘It’ (see last week’s story. seriously. I’m needy. semi-seriously) because he was sick and tired of me not getting caught. He figured that if he could just keep me in his sights he would eventually get me. It almost worked. Eventually, after being spotted by this guy, I bolted for new cover and hoped to duck into it before he got close.
Author’s tangent: You don’t just sit in one spot waiting to be found when playing Jailbreak. It’s no fun—for anybody. Plus, if you move about, there is a chance you get caught—everyone needs to take a chance at getting to be the new ‘It’ (fair is fair). Also, you can’t free the prisoners if you don’t move to reach the tennis court jailhouse. So, yeah, I occasionally got spotted while wearing all black in a shadow-shrouded park, at night. Okay? Get off my back. Sheesh. Besides, it is only almost always dark nearly half of the time. Back to the story…
This ‘It’ guy would not quit. He had his quarry in his sights (me) and was not going to give it up soon. I darted left and right. I zigged and zagged. I went awry. I tried to askew. Nothing. Nada. That guy was on my tail, giving it his all, and was actually beginning to gain on me. Friends even tried to distract him by moving within arm’s reach to divert his ‘It’-ness’s attention (I know what I wrote). Nope. This guy wanted to finally get me caught. What he didn’t know—and what I secretly hoped for—was that all I needed was a shadow. But, any that I might find soon would be useless because he would notice me jumping into them—seeing as he was three feet behind me and gaining. The gap was slowly closing, but it was closing. Finally, I spotted an opportunity.
The perfect opportunity.
Just slightly off-center within the park, there used to be a giant tree. Its trunk was massive in its diameter. It was so big, that if it were hollowed out, it could have been a tube slide big enough for an elephant to fit through. It was that big. Okay? Alright, I might be exaggerating just slightly. A rhino would’ve fit smoothly. My point is the tree was enormous and was coming up on my right. And what made all this so important was that just past that tree—also on my right—was one of The Park’s lamps. It happened to be working that night (not all The Park’s lamps always worked or were on all the time—city budget…? I don’t know), and this lamp was creating the deepest, darkest, blackest shadow I have ever seen. Also, just past that shadow was open field (this is important).
If I ever were to see a black hole in real life (I know what I wrote), I’d be like, “Naw. I’ve seen darker.” The shadow was that black. It was right there. Literally, on my right. Right there! And, the shadow that was created was about six feet wide and hard-edged. It was like a nothing you’ve never seen. (I know what I wrote)
As soon as I was fully emersed in that shadow I side-stepped as laterally—and smoothly—as I could and the ‘It’ dude sailed right past me. I was gone. Like smoke.
When he exited the other side of the shadow, he was just, “…?!? Where’d you go? Where’d he go?!” He could not figure out how I had disappeared. He should have seen where I ran to (he really should have—remember the open field area just past the shadow?). I even saw him swing his arms, crazy-windmill-style, in an effort to tag me because maybe I was invisible…? If I had not stepped to the side, he would’ve got me (he was finally that close). And now, now that he was where I should have been, and there is no way for a person to just evaporate into thin air—besides in science fiction—he was confused and a little perturbed. He should have been able to see me (you could read it on his face). I ran into the open baseball field. There is no hiding there. But I was not there.
The dude moved back to the shadow and started flailing his arms all about with the hapless hopes of tagging me out. However, that tree’s shadow went in two directions: One headed toward the trunk and a definitive end. The other blended into other shadows and potential cover/hiding places near the baseball diamond and surrounding shrubbery (shrubbery is still a real word used by normal people). I had already backed away and moved low to the ground, to avoid being accidentally slapped into the ‘It’ title. His wild swings almost connected with me more than once. Twice I felt their passing breezes. I just needed to not make a sound and receive a small miracle, so, no moving for me—and some silent prayers.
“I give up!” He was breathless, exhausted, sweaty, and angry. Also, a loser. Not in the sense that he sucked—well, he didn’t get me so I guess he did kinda suck… But that’s not what I meant. I just meant that he was a loser because he didn’t win, in the sense that he didn’t tag me. That kind of loser. Like a win/lose thing…
I’ll stop.
As my would-be tormentor slunked away—defeated and despondent—and moved on to other, less-hidey, Jailbreak participants, I boldly, confidently, stepped out of the tree’s protection to call out to my would-be captor so as to taunt him a second time. Bad timing—on my part.
As soon as I stepped into the light—that same light that had mere moments ago, been my very salvation, now fully enveloping me with its artificial tungsten illumination—another ‘It’ sneekedted (it’s a word—maybe possibly)… Another ‘It’ sneekedted up from behind, and caught me. This other player had secretly watched the whole coyote & road runner chase-thing from the shadows of the covered pavilion, located nearby. When he thought the time was right—and it was—he crept up using that same tree shadow I had used and announced my imprisonment, “Tag.”
Well played.
Almost Heroes 