The Big Field

The Big Field

By Kevin Harrington

         

         Jimmy Summers was restless; he took a deep breath, and tried to catch another hour of sleep. The sun slid over the hills behind his house and sent lasers into his eyes making him roll over to block the rays. The cheap clock radio let another minute slowly slip by, 7:03; he set it for eight. Birds started to chirp outside his window through little bird megaphones while Mr. Perkins, fired up his ancient lawn mower with the bad muffler. The garbage truck came down his street and launched every metal trash can ten feet in the air after emptying them; they all seemed to crash off the sidewalk in front of his house.

         “Alright I’m up,” he screamed as he jumped out of bed. The birds heard him and flew away, the lawn mower sputtered silent from lack of gas, and the garbage truck ran out of cans to destroy.

         “It was a conspricy,” he thought.

         He kind of knew what that meant, it seemed to fit but he didn’t believe it. It was quiet again, the way Saturday mornings were suppose to be. Then he remembered while he was restless, tomorrow was his twelfth birthday, and the rumor mill, named mom, hinted that his father was going to take him out when he got off work. She was too excited when she told him that, which meant only one thing; he was going to get that new bike.

         There was a little place, just off the highway, that his father found on his never ending quest to find the best shortcut to their house. It was on the corner of Adams and a nothing side street that people cut through to get to the next main street. It was called, “The Bike Hospital.” Big red crosses and doctors holding wrenches were painted on the side facing Adams Street. In one of the two huge picture windows facing the shortcut street was displayed bike parts. Chrome handlebars, rims, tires, and anything you could think of to make a boy drool. The second window had five bikes, side by side at a forty-five degree angle to the street displaying the newest bikes. These bikes were not stock bikes you bought in a chain store; these were modified by the doctor who worked there. Even his dad commented on how nice they were and said he might buy one for himself. Jimmy probably thought that it was fine by him, as long as he got one first.

         His father would get home about four tonight, a long time to wait, but it was still Saturday, and too nice a day to be wasted. The clock clicked off 7:11, his eyes rolled in his head as he roamed the house. It was still too early to go out but he could get ready and take his time with both his sisters still asleep. The morning ritual would take twenty minutes, then an hour or two of cartoons, and off to Garvey Park.

         It was a day of firsts; he came into the park through a hole in the fence, twenty feet from the entrance, it was just closer. A few of his buddies had beaten him there, not all, but the core of the clique. Jerry Noonan, “I’m the leader, because I’m the tallest, so I rule.” His brother Peter ”Petey” Noonan, almost one foot shorter and one year younger, Michael; ”Don’t call me Mikey” Kaminski; Leo Short, all Brains and no testicular fortitude, our clan geek; and me David Penny. I was a watcher and a deep thinker, which means that I was a day dreamer that walked into things because I didn’t watch where I was going.

         It was mid June, and hotter than it should have been. We were bored, waiting for someone to come up with an idea. Jerry said, “Let’s go to the beach.” We shrugged in unison and followed. The water was warming up and the Beach was less than a mile away. We took a short cut through the big field. No one knew why it was called the big field, other than there were two fields and it was the bigger of the two. It wasn’t really that big, it was a patch bordered by two streets, a few houses and a school. The quickest way to the beach was down the worn path of dusty grey dirt that wound around sticker bushes and tall grass.

         Leo was in the lead with a stick in his hand, mindlessly whacking bushes and pissing off Bees. I was yapping about a movie to Mikey, Jerry was yelling to Petey to take his finger out of his nose, and Jimmy was lagging behind. The path opened up to the top of a hill that had an almost thirty degree pitch. You couldn’t walk down it, you had to run and control yourself from falling at the same time; it was fun, if your a kid. The path then straightened out and ran behind a school for a hundred feet and then dropped off down a second hill that was worst than the first.

         The field was a bit of wilderness and the street was civilization with Mrs. Connant’s house being the closest to the bottom of the second hill. Leo let momentum add to his speed as he approached Hamilton Street. He had kid luck going for him as his feet deftly rolled over rocks and gravel correcting his almost out of control run and keeping him upright at the same time. The street was coming up fast and he started to hit the brakes but there were too many loose rocks and he realized he would have to run the hill out till he hit the street.

         Marvin Phillips, the neighborhood terrorist, had seen us coming. I saw him run and hide around the corner of Mrs. Conant’s brand new six-foot tall wooden fence; it was moments like this I’m sure he lived for. He hated us, especially Leo because he was small and fast and he hadn’t been able to get his hands on him. When he tried Leo would run to a safe distance, stick his fingers in his ears and taunt him. I always thought of Marvin with cartoon steam coming out of his ears when Leo did that to him.

         I was going to warn Leo but it was too late. Marvin waited for him to get closer, and then swung out from behind the fence like he was on a hinge. Leo couldn’t stop and bounced off Marvin who was literally a walking wall of flesh. It was a fly versus a pane of glass scenario.

         “Hey, what are you, Freakin’ blind!” Marvin said. Startled, Leo tried to take a step back. They both sized each other up. We could hear it from twenty-five feet away and hustled down to back up Leo. Marvin had at least seven inches and thirty pounds over Leo. He puffed out his chest and sucked in some air. Leo felt his hair move.

         “Where are you going?” Marvin said, as he hung onto Leo’s shirt so he couldn’t run. Leo had his head down and was shuffling his feet.

         “We’re going to the beach.” He said in a subservient tone as to not upset the giant. “Tenean Beach,” Marvin said. Leo nodded and swallowed. “You can’t go there, I bought that beach the other day and it’s just for me and my friends.” he said as he drilled his finger into Leo’s chest. He bent over to emphasize his next words and said, “And you’re not my friend.”

         We slid in behind Leo and just stood there letting him take the brunt of it rather than have Marvin turn on us. That’s when he punched Leo...hard. It was like someone had slowed down time, so we could remember that moment later on, frame by frame in exact detail. He fell straight back while his arms wind milled trying to get a grip on the air. I remember Leo looking at us pleadingly like we could help, but we couldn’t and he hit the ground. Marvin wanted to step over Leo and savor his victory but he hesitated. Leo wasn’t moving.

         I dropped to my knees beside Leo not knowing what to do. He groaned and moved his head, it was covered with blood. My Boy Scout training kicked in and I told Leo not to move as I took off my new Fruit of the Loom tee-shirt. He tried to get up but I held him down while I placed the tee-shirt on the back of his head. It turned red as the blood soaked in. All I could think was that my mother was going to kill me for ruining that tee-shirt.

         Marvin, instead of being afraid just started to laugh. He placed his hands on his hips and laughed so hard that his considerable belly fat moved like a wave, it was unnerving and hypnotic at the same time. It got louder, almost out of control and then stopped suddenly. Marvin Phillips was lying on his back with his hand over his mouth with a stunned look on his face. He pulled it slowly away in anticipation of something bad; it was covered in blood with a nice shiny tooth in the middle of it.

         No one knew what happened including Marvin, but when he looked up into the sun Jimmy was standing over him. Marvin said, “You’re a dead ma.....; he started to say but was cut short when Jimmy’s foot smashed into his chest. He lost his wind and fear flooded through him; he had never experienced that feeling before and rolled over to get up and away from Jimmy. Gravel imbedded in his knees as he scurried away. A foot came down hard on his backside and he fell flat on the sidewalk. His forehead smashed off the concrete making a kind of hollow sound. Blood flowed freely out of his mouth and head almost in a race to see who could beat who.

         Jimmy wasn’t letting him get off the ground, the rest of us just stood frozen with our mouths open. Marvin rolled again and got up on his feet quicker than any of us thought possible, instead of charging Jimmy he put his hands out and said, “Enough, enough, don’t hit me anymore,” it was a ploy and a stall for time, he was setting Jimmy up.

         Walking right over to where Marvin stood, Jimmy looked him right in the eyes and said, “You’re nothing but a big fat loser,” and punched him in the face. Marvin bounced off the Conant’s Buick LeSabre and ran. That’s just when Leo got off the ground still holding the tee-shirt to his head. He yelled at the back of Marvin as he fled, “And don’t you come back you, you ... loser!” He repeated Jimmy’s sentiments as he looked up to him for his approval, Jimmy nodded.

         Leo reached down and grabbed a rock before anyone could stop him and whipped it at Marvin. It didn’t have a chance in hell of hitting him but the rock didn’t know that and bounced gleefully off the back of Marvin’s head. His hands whirled forward and he tripped over his feet and bounced when he hit the street. It was great and horrible at the same time. Leo ran, we all did, back the way we came.

         Something had changed, Jerry wasn’t in the lead, Jimmy was. No one had to say anything. It was instinctive. He led us through the field and out into the open where it was safe, it seemed, from everything. Our biggest terror had been defeated and it just felt safe.

         Jimmy put his hands out to his sides and spoke in his new found role as leader,

“I didn’t want to hit him; it was like my body had enough of Marvin and just took over.” We nodded; we didn’t understand but nodded anyways. “This isn’t over, he’s hurt bad, and we’ll probably get in trouble, but I don’t care, he deserved it and more. So let’s go home and tell our parents first, before they hear it from his.”

         “Leo you’re probably going to need some stitches, so I’ll walk you home.” Jimmy said as he looked at the blood soaked tee-shirt. Leo was smiling from ear to ear,

         “It doesn’t hurt, my head, I don’t feel a thing,” he was still smiling. “I’d let him do it again just so I could throw another rock at him.” We all started laughing while Leo smiled like a newly adopted puppy.

         We started home, no one talked; we just ran up the incline to the top of the hill. I kept thinking of what my mother would say when I came home without a shirt. At the crest of the hill, in the distance; we could see a spinning blue light waiting for us at the beginning of the field. The cops were there, just outside Jimmy’s house, we could hear Mr. Phillips, with his son in tow, yelling at Jimmy’s dad. It had started already but it was okay, we’d stick together and be alright. Everyone nodded and parted without a word anticipating our collective fates.

         Jimmy’s house was closest to the field. “Leo, I’ll walk you home, I need to get my shirt back anyways. “Jimmy, Jimmy,” He turned lost in thought for a second. “Yeah, make sure he gets home,” and he crossed the street and stopped at his father’s Nova Station Wagon. Mr. Summers hadn’t done a good job of hiding the new bike he had just bought. He stared at it for a second then looked up at his dad and smiled.

         Everyone had stopped talking when they saw Jimmy, his dad waved at him to come up. Dave Phillips started to say something but Jimmy’s dad put a hand on his arm and gave him a look that shut him up, Marvin just stared at the ground. “Go inside, we’ll talk in a minute,” Jimmy looked at his dad and nodded.

         Mr. Phillips got his courage back and started on how out of control Jimmy was. One of the cops stepped up and got in between the two fathers, he didn’t have to but he did. Ralph Summers took a second and in a calm voice said. “Dave, your kid might have been a good kid if it wasn’t for you.” Dave made a phony gesture of aggression but the cop just grinned. “He sees you acting like a jerk so he acts like a jerk. Your whole family’s that way. Even your dog’s a jerk.” One of the cops laughed for a second then stopped himself.

         “Your kid got what he deserved and you know it, he just doesn’t know any better. So take me to court or do whatever you have to do but stay away from my family or the next Phillips to be missing a tooth will be you.” Dave Phillips stormed off the porch and roughly grabbed his son by the arm. The cop leaning against his car got up in Dave’s face and started yelling at him for the treatment of his son. Marvin just stood there and cried.

         Jimmy heard everything and decided that what his father just did was way better then the bike. His father came into the parlor and closed the window to drown out the din from outside and sat down in his chair across from him. “I’m not mad, I know that kid and I know he started it, but I have to make it look like I’m punishing you for fighting.” He put his hands on his chin and scratched. Let’s say that bike that you saw in the back of my car doesn’t leave the house for a few days. Jimmy smiled sheepishly and nodded. “Lets eat,” and they walked out to the kitchen. The light was out but there was a small warm light that flickered off the wall. His mother and sisters started singing Happy Birthday.

         

THE END