So when I was younger I have an outright obsession with giant balls. Okay, that sounded funny. But I mean it in this way, those massive, mostly metallic and sometimes colorful bouncy balls they sell at Wal-Mart. I loved them, I craved them so badly. There was a certain pleasure in hearing the distinctive 'bing' as it hit the ground and flew back into the air, you had to follow it up with your eyes and catch it again. It was just so much fun to me, I would spend hours doing it. I also remember having to get a new one every few months, because somehow, though I never specifically remember how, they would always pop or deflate. And after begging to my Mom or Dad for a few minutes, I could go there to that massive black wired bin and look through all of the them for the one I wanted. I was a difficult little kid too, I always had to get the one in the center or way down at the bottom or up at the top. It was like certain one would call to me and I just had to have it.
But I always got them, I always played with the, and after a while my neighbor Diego and my nephew Troy would join in with me. Deigo was four years younger than me and Troy was five years younger, I kind of grew up with these boys, even though I was older them. A good majority of my life have been devoted to spending time with younger friends, it even is now. My only close friend who is older than me is Marina. Anyway, all three of us would play with the balls all day. We would have giant kickball games, competitions to see who could bounce higher, and a good 'ol toss around in a circle. But then when we were done, at night, we would put our balls on the ground, lean back on them, and look up at the sky. We always did this, always at sunset. And it was just such a wonderful time, something I can never capture again. It's not exactly because it was in childhood, but because it just was. All these sunset ball watches existed in a certain time and place, something I could never replicate. I think its with how I felt so connected to those two, or the smell of the green grass, or the crickets starting to sing. It's just something so amazing and rudimentary to that time and that time only. Sometimes we would talk, no we would talk a lot. There was one particular time when we were talking about what we were going to do in our lives, I was probably around eleven then, and I probably couldn't really see past the age of thirteen and Peter Pan. Deigo said something, maybe he was telling me what he was going to do and I responded accordingly, or maybe he actually asked me. But somehow I felt this sense, this weird sense of everything. Have you had one of those moments? All your sight becomes HD, and you're just aware of everything. I could feel the rubbery texture of the ball under my head. I could hear cars passing on gravel and the wind flirting with the trees and brush. Beside me breathed to hard, excited from the game we had just finished earlier and Diego was touching a few of his fingers to mine (one thing I should mention is that he had a massive crush on me, this was probably some attempt to hold hands) and it was just so clear. And so I told Deigo, "One day I'm going to be like the sky."
You should understand this, the sky, it was extraordinary Have you watched a sunset, not at the horizon, but in the middle of the sky itself? It's just, this slow never ceasing brushstroke of light blue to pale yellow and then light orange. Parts of it stay lighter blue, perhaps showing a few tints of green. The stars come out slowly, little grey dots you have to squint to see, and then there are the bursts of color, a fading before your eyes. A bright pink, blazing yellow, and brilliant orange.. and then, more rapidly then any other thing, it's getting dark, you're covered in shadows, mosquitoes are starting to buzz around your head and you're filling uncomfortable chilly for summer, and your neck starts to hurt from leaning on the ball awkwardly When that happened I always wanted to go in, because I've never been one to force myself to stay in uncomfortable situations but I always did. The sky was too hard to resist, the pitch growing darker and stars interrupting all the over the place.
The thing is, I am not the sky and not like it in anyway. I said that when I was eleven and naive and didn't understand parts of the what. I didn't know what I meant by it and still today I don't. I just admired the sky so much, the way it changed, the way it was able to keep itself and so much beauty. And I still want to be like the sky even though I have no idea its meaning. You know, the sky I want to be, it's hard and unknown. And I love it. I want to be it.
Fin.
-Keshia
Currently Reading The Dark Hills Divide by Patrick Carmen
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