As Silver Is to the Moon by R. A. Watt

Author:R. A. Watt [Watt, R. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781999000905
Publisher: TER Publishing
Published: 2019-04-27T16:00:00+00:00

Traditionally, gym class was a favorite of most guys my age. To skip lectures, if nothing else. For me, it was anything but enjoyable. Hobbling, tripping, and limping my way as best I could was the norm.

This day was different.

“Mr. Laurent. Is there a reason why you are wearing flip-flops to my Phys Ed class?” Mr. Bigley asked as we lined up in the gym after changing.

“Sir, my shoes. They don’t fit; this is all I have,” I answered as everyone laughed and stared at my feet.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine; you are excused from participating. You don’t need to wear sandals in the future to be excused.”

The class filed outside for a warm-up run and then a lacrosse scrimmage. I caught up to the teacher and tapped his shoulder. “Mr. Bigley? Can I still play today? My sandals are fine.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Wait. This time you want to play?”

Shrugging, I held up my foot and answered, “I’m feeling better today.”

“Suit yourself,” he answered. “Just don’t roll your ankle: those aren’t proper gym shoes.”

Even with flip-flops on, after a slow and awkward start, I was able to figure my stride and catch up to the leaders as we completed two laps around the outdoor field to warm up. I’d never jogged that fast or that smoothly in my life. Even with expensive prosthetic shoes.

And I could have gone faster. I smiled to myself, holding to a non-official third place at the finish.

Lacrosse went even better.

Trying moderately hard, but not my hardest, I was probably the best player in terms of raw physical skill on the field. Everyone noticed, and lots of people commented to me, especially from my team.

Joel got more and more physical as the game went on, frustrated by my newfound speed and skill. My flashy goals against his team probably hadn’t helped the situation as I taunted him for failing to stop me from shooting.

Every time I got near him—if the teacher wasn’t close—he cross-checked me. I was caught off-guard the first time and stumbled, but came to expect it after that.

With a minute left in the scrimmage and the score tied, Simon threw me the ball as I neared the opposing team’s goalie, preparing to shoot. As I wound up, it was as if everything shifted to slow motion.

As I looked to the upper left corner of the net, the goalie unconsciously moved there to stop the shot. But then his focus shifted behind me with a slight look of alarm. The hair on my neck stood, and I instinctively braced my legs and bent forward, holding my lacrosse stick in hand with the ball firmly in its netting.

From behind, a body slammed into me. It was Joel, and he clearly hadn’t expected me to bend over at the last second. His aimed cross-check at my shoulders missed, and his momentum carried him over my back and sent him sprawling to the ground.

The goalie looked down at Joel in surprise as I stood up straight and whipped the ball into the lower right corner of the goal.

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