Silver by Cheree Alsop

my hand because she let it go and gave
me a self-conscious smile.
    “ Do you think he would have
run away if we turned around and started chasing him?”
    She laughed. “Probably. We’ll have to
remember to bring our own orange vests next time, then we’ll see
who’s tough.”
    The thought made me chuckle. “You’d be
pretty intimidating in orange. I don’t think it’d be fair to
him.”
    She was about to reply when a yell caught my
attention. “Wait,” I held up a hand. “Do you hear that?” Another
yell sounded, followed by a shout of triumph.
    “ What?” Nikki
asked.
    I hurried toward the sound, afraid that
someone might be in trouble. She followed close behind.
    We ran across two vacant roads, through a
bingo hall parking lot, and jumped over a ditch. A fence about
eight feet high stretched off into the night, and beyond it I could
see a dozen smaller roofs. Yelling followed by cheers came again
from behind it. “What is this place?”
    “ It’s a giant swap meet on
the weekends. I didn’t think anyone came here during the week.” She
peered through the fence, but the only thing we could see was the
back of a building.
    I laced my fingers together. “I’ll give you
a hand.”
    She stared at me. “What? No way. I’m not
going in there.”
    I pointed toward the sound. “Listen. There’s
no screaming, just laughing and yelling. Sounds like a bunch of
people having a good time. I just want to see what they’re doing.”
I gave her a smile. “It’ll take two seconds. We’ll just peek in,
see what’s up, and then leave.”
    She gave me a suspicious glance. “You
promise?”
    I nodded and put my hands together again.
She sighed, then stepped onto them. She let out a tiny squeak when
I hoisted her to the top of the fence, but she grabbed the top
pole, levered herself over, then lowered until she could fall to
the ground. “But how are you-“
    I jumped and caught the bar with my hands,
then pulled myself over and landed on the ground beside her.
    “ Oh.” She bent to tie a
shoelace. I waited impatiently until she stood. “Ok, I’m ready,”
she whispered.
    I led the way around the back of the first
building, across a gravel pathway, then along a second. The noise
grew louder as we neared the center of the complex. We passed rows
of sheds with rolling doors pulled down and locked. The scents of
old books, furniture, tires, animal cages, clothes, cheap
electronics, stale food, and garbage filled my nose. By the smell
of things, the place was very active on the weekends.
    We edged along the last row of sheds and
peered out.
    A group of about twenty high schoolers flew
by on roller skates chasing a green puck.
    “ What the-” Nikki grabbed
my shirt and pulled me back when they came racing back in the other
direction.
    “ Street hockey?” she asked,
the surprise on her face identical to mine.
    “ Why not, I guess?” I said.
I stepped back around the corner and she followed close behind with
a hesitant hand on my arm.
    A group of skaters shoved a member of the
other team into a stack of garbage cans. He floundered for a moment
through the trash, then rose with the puck in hand and a triumphant
grin on his face. Someone hit it out of his grasp, he yelled back,
and they raced off again.
    “ No picking up the puck!” a
kid shouted, skating by.
    “ It was in the garbage
can,” the first boy protested, following close behind. They argued
as they made a mad dash toward the other side where they barely
missed a football flying through the air.
    Several students ran after the football and
a brawl ensued when they reached it. Two older students stood on
the sidelines arguing about whose ball it was. They didn't seem at
all phased when another student kicked a soccer ball in their
direction. They threw it back and the student hit it with his knee
to two students waiting at the far end.
    I was surprised at how many students watched
the games from the sides, jumping clear when any ball or the puck
came