dare.
Kevin understood these things, yet could not have verbalized them. He didn’t begrudge his friend for his denial of support.
The last time Johnny gave Billy a dare it was a difficult one. Billy had to steal a candy bar from the five-and-ten store. Although he hadn’t wanted to shoplift—he was stuck.
Back then everything seemed like it was going smoothly. Billy had walked into the place, the other kids watching from outside, and walked out with the bar stuck in his pocket, into the grayness of night. Mr. Clawson, the owner, came out running, grabbed him and shook him hard, finally calling Billy’s father to pick him up. Twenty-five whips was what Billy received. Along with two weeks grounding, he got no dessert for a month, which he couldn’t sit down for anyhow, and no allowance until he put two dollars in the church poor box. That was the worst part, Billy told them all, because he only got twenty-five cents a week so it took two whole months. No baseball cards, no movies that whole time. Nothing he lived for, just chores and school. Soda bottles he found at the schoolyard only grossed him a few cents. Enough for a few pieces of candy once in awhile, nothing more.
So he was not going to side with Kevin this time. Not if it meant the same ghastly punishment. Even if they were best friends, it wasn’t worth it.
Kevin got to throw one more time. A cool breeze rushed past him, chilling him to the bone. It was as if he could feel defeat in the air. He raised the ball, and threw it. Though it hit the ledge and shot off in a startling angle. Instead of catching it, his nose stopped its descent. His score remained five points.
Tony’s turn yielded thirty points, while Jimmy got forty. Billy only got five points before he missed the ledge.
Johnny kept throwing the ball and catching it, throwing it and catching it. It looked like a tennis match. Back and forth—back and forth. The school building favored him by leaning out at a right angle, allowing him to hit its ledge. Sure it was an optical illusion of the fading light, but that was what it looked like—at least to a child. He made three ten pointers in a row, which was pretty astonishing. Even to Johnny. He seemed to sense the inevitable doom, which lurked just out of sight...waiting to claim his streak...so he made the final two throws five pointers. As if by magic, Johnny won the game within two rounds—it usually took at least three and sometimes four. He had never hit three ten pointers in a row. After the third one, Johnny wimped out and shot at the easier five-point ledge. Had Johnny tried—Kevin knew—he would have hit all ten pointers, or won a baseball throwing championship that day. The knowledge left him unsteady and scared. The wind seemed to blow the boys in a certain direction—forward, and wouldn’t allow them to turn back. Kevin sensed it—Johnny could have won with two broken hands and ten busted fingers.
Everyone congratulated Johnny. Except for Billy who was terrified what Johnny’s dare would be. This was the first time anyone had tied for the losing spot—him and Kevin. “Kevin and Billy!” Johnny exclaimed in excited tones. “You both lost so you both have to do the dare!”
“No way!” Billy yelled back, more from fear than to question Johnny’s authority. “The last time….”
“You’re such a wimp.” Jimmy cut him off. “Kevin’s not complaining.”
“No. We’ll play sudden death,” Tony said. “Whoever gets the most points on one ball wins. Loser does the dare.”
“Yeah,” Johnny agreed, still flying high from his amazing triumph. Had he not been he would have required both boys do the dare. His smile said it all: he was feeling good, even god forbid, generous.
Billy’s face registered terror at the sudden death prospect.
Kevin, sensing Billy’s heightening fear, made his first adult decision. “No way—I’ll do the dare. If you want you can make it doubly hard. I’m sure that’s okay by
Kevin understood these things, yet could not have verbalized them. He didn’t begrudge his friend for his denial of support.
The last time Johnny gave Billy a dare it was a difficult one. Billy had to steal a candy bar from the five-and-ten store. Although he hadn’t wanted to shoplift—he was stuck.
Back then everything seemed like it was going smoothly. Billy had walked into the place, the other kids watching from outside, and walked out with the bar stuck in his pocket, into the grayness of night. Mr. Clawson, the owner, came out running, grabbed him and shook him hard, finally calling Billy’s father to pick him up. Twenty-five whips was what Billy received. Along with two weeks grounding, he got no dessert for a month, which he couldn’t sit down for anyhow, and no allowance until he put two dollars in the church poor box. That was the worst part, Billy told them all, because he only got twenty-five cents a week so it took two whole months. No baseball cards, no movies that whole time. Nothing he lived for, just chores and school. Soda bottles he found at the schoolyard only grossed him a few cents. Enough for a few pieces of candy once in awhile, nothing more.
So he was not going to side with Kevin this time. Not if it meant the same ghastly punishment. Even if they were best friends, it wasn’t worth it.
Kevin got to throw one more time. A cool breeze rushed past him, chilling him to the bone. It was as if he could feel defeat in the air. He raised the ball, and threw it. Though it hit the ledge and shot off in a startling angle. Instead of catching it, his nose stopped its descent. His score remained five points.
Tony’s turn yielded thirty points, while Jimmy got forty. Billy only got five points before he missed the ledge.
Johnny kept throwing the ball and catching it, throwing it and catching it. It looked like a tennis match. Back and forth—back and forth. The school building favored him by leaning out at a right angle, allowing him to hit its ledge. Sure it was an optical illusion of the fading light, but that was what it looked like—at least to a child. He made three ten pointers in a row, which was pretty astonishing. Even to Johnny. He seemed to sense the inevitable doom, which lurked just out of sight...waiting to claim his streak...so he made the final two throws five pointers. As if by magic, Johnny won the game within two rounds—it usually took at least three and sometimes four. He had never hit three ten pointers in a row. After the third one, Johnny wimped out and shot at the easier five-point ledge. Had Johnny tried—Kevin knew—he would have hit all ten pointers, or won a baseball throwing championship that day. The knowledge left him unsteady and scared. The wind seemed to blow the boys in a certain direction—forward, and wouldn’t allow them to turn back. Kevin sensed it—Johnny could have won with two broken hands and ten busted fingers.
Everyone congratulated Johnny. Except for Billy who was terrified what Johnny’s dare would be. This was the first time anyone had tied for the losing spot—him and Kevin. “Kevin and Billy!” Johnny exclaimed in excited tones. “You both lost so you both have to do the dare!”
“No way!” Billy yelled back, more from fear than to question Johnny’s authority. “The last time….”
“You’re such a wimp.” Jimmy cut him off. “Kevin’s not complaining.”
“No. We’ll play sudden death,” Tony said. “Whoever gets the most points on one ball wins. Loser does the dare.”
“Yeah,” Johnny agreed, still flying high from his amazing triumph. Had he not been he would have required both boys do the dare. His smile said it all: he was feeling good, even god forbid, generous.
Billy’s face registered terror at the sudden death prospect.
Kevin, sensing Billy’s heightening fear, made his first adult decision. “No way—I’ll do the dare. If you want you can make it doubly hard. I’m sure that’s okay by
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