Home Run

Home Run

Here we go. Streetlights marked the long sidewalk with trails of light, spreading over the concrete and asphalt making up the street. I marched along the sidewalk, carrying with me nothing but my emotions and a tool with which to vent them, to cool my soul. I marched along the sidewalk carrying the memories of him, Sal, pushing me down the stairs with a grin, humiliating me in front of the class while I gave a presentation and breaking my mother’s necklace with which she entrusted to me. He’s taken and taken and taken too much. He will not take again. 26 more steps and you’ll be there. 25 more steps and he’ll never bother you again. I marched with the plan already having been made for what to do, but nothing on what to do once it’s over. There isn’t much point to that after all.

I climbed his front steps, calmly ringing the doorbell with my left hand, while my right clutched my aluminum bat behind my back. His mother answered.

“Why hello, you must be a friend of Sal’s,” his mother said.

“How did you guess?” I say, smiling.

“He is in the back if you are here to see him, just walk right through,” she said.

“Thank you very much,” I replied. I waited for his mother to walk off before continuing my march to Sal. She couldn’t see the bat. 10 more steps, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, I thought of my mother, why did she have to go? 2, I thought of Sal and his vile actions, why did he have to target me? 1, I thought of nothing, nothing at all. 0, he sat there, his head turned, focused on anything but me. I raised the bat.

CRACK. He fell.

CRUNCH. He gasped, turning to face me.

SNAP. The bat had found itself embedded in the front of his odious face. He would never do anything to me ever again.

I sighed, a moment of relief and satisfaction, I knew it would all go according to plan. I knew what I must do then, I tugged at his body, dragging it towards the toy bin, slowly and deliberately, I raised him up slowly, dropping him in with a thud. I left the bat in with him as well.

“Goodbye Sal,” I said, closing the lid on the toy bin before turning away as adrenaline sped through my blood. Everything that would happen now was unforeseen, there was no plan. I sprinted, for my mother, for me and for the future, because nothing that is yet to happen can be assured, not now. I flew through Sal’s house, glimpsing his mother, asleep, not having waited for his father to arrive. I sprinted through the door, gently closing it behind me and turning, on his front steps to the long sidewalk, houses on either side closing in on each other, the sidewalk growing ever smaller.

As I started running for my house I could hear sirens. For me? For another? Who could tell. I ran, as fast as I could and I could see it, my home. The sirens grew louder and my legs groaned with every step, my lungs full of holes as I scaled my front steps, let my door open and gently shut it behind me. I was safe. Nothing was wrong. I won. I walked over to my room and climbed into bed. As soon as I landed I started thinking. Did I make the right choice? I don’t know. We’ll find out soon enough. Slowly, drifting off to sleep, my eyelids heavy, I recalled the score: 1 point to me, 0 to Sal.