Chapter Two - Recess Rules

CHAPTER TWO

Recess Rules

THE BELL RANG like a referee’s whistle.
DING-A-LING-LING!
And the classroom exploded into sneakers and excitement.

Bluster was the first out the door.
He didn’t run.
He launched.

“RECESS, BABY!” he yelled.
And the playground flinched.

The swings swung harder.
The slide looked nervous.
The dodgeballs considered early retirement.

Bluster didn’t ask to join the game of tag.
He just bounced into it.
He tagged a kid not even playing.
He tagged the teacher on recess duty.
He tagged a pinecone and named it Larry.

Then he saw kickball.
Kickball was sacred.
Kickball had rules.

“MY TURN!” he shouted.
He didn’t wait for the lineup.
He didn’t wait for a ball.

He found the ball.
He boomed it into the air.
It flew over the fence.
It disappeared into the parking lot.

Everyone stared.
One kid tripped trying to get out of the way.
Bluster laughed.
Too loud.

“HAHAHAHA! YOU FELL LIKE A PANCAKE!”

The kid sat up, red-faced.
A little grass in his hair.
A little tear in his knee.
Not crying. But close.

“Sorry,” Bluster said.
But he was still giggling.
It didn’t sound sorry.

Pebble watched from the monkey bars.
Still.
Thinking.

Bluster wasn’t mean like a villain.
He was mean like a thunderstorm at a picnic.

Too loud.
Too big.
Didn’t mean to ruin it.
But he kinda did.

Someone whispered,
“What a meanie.”

And for the first time all day,
Bluster didn’t bounce.