To other people, they were just a pair of old, ragged, gym shoes. The way they looked so full yet lightly beaten by the passing of time gave me a sense of comfort. They seemed as if someone wore them to every soccer game, basketball practice, and golf tournament getting good use out of it, but was also ready to give them up. I wasn’t going to give them up though. I stood there mesmerized for so long that I must’ve missed the bus. The crowd that was once shoulder to shoulder with me was now gone. The shoes remained lone on the fresh green lawn which felt like a sign to get closer. I bent down to get a clearer look and I could see that the white exterior was faded into a rusty gray and brown smocked cotton. The soles were chipped away at the front and back, and streaks of dust kissed the sides with laces neatly tied together like a bow on a present.
I remembered the shoes that I got last year for my birthday, and how I thought they were the best things in the world - electric blue and with bright orange laces. They lasted about three weeks before the straps eroded and sides were ripping. I remembered running excitedly with my five-dollar bill to the dollar store on my 12th birthday and going to the shoe section, where I instantly was drawn to the colors. Later, I left the store skipping and dancing all the way till I got to the car and showed them off to my friends at school the next week. I remember being disappointed when their reactions were not as genuine and heartfelt as mine were. They looked at the shoes and I remember that one girl Jessica who I hated. She looked at them and said, “What? Did they cost two dollars or something?” She snickered with the other girls gathered around, making me feel like prey being closed in on. I remember running away from them towards the front of the school before Charlie, the school star football player, came out of nowhere and tripped me by sticking his leg out and stepping on the front of one of my shoes. His dirty football cleats smeared a fresh track of mud all over the front and I instantly screamed. I fell to the ground and my arms were too slow to catch me, causing a long scrape from elbow to hand on each forearm.
The last thing he said before he ran back towards his friends was, “Bet ya won’t buy nice shoes till you're 30.”
I remember the tears forming rivers that streamed down my face as I laid on the grass lawn, exhausted and embarrassed. I had gone home that day and begged my mom to let me get a job in town. Things must have played into my luck because a week or two later, I had a job tending our neighbor's garden. At that moment, it felt as if the incident with Charlie hadn’t mattered anymore. I was gonna buy new shoes with my work money.
~
I knew the shoes in front of me would equate to all my earnings from my job if I saw them in the store, but the way they were alone and unbothered gave me an urge to swoop down and claim them to myself. For free. Standing only inches away from the shoes, my heart pounded. I didn’t know what my mom would think if she saw me return home with such privileged shoes, but I also didn’t see anything wrong with it. It felt as if someone had left them for display with the hope that someone else would make them theirs. When I picked up the shoes, I noticed a small carving of initials right by the ankle. The letter “C” was written in bold letters. Who was that? Was it that new kid Chris? I couldn’t ruin my reputation more than I already had with the birthday shoes. Hmm. Maybe Cole? My head pondered with names back and forth until I was startled by a voice behind me.
“Excuse me,” an arm jostled me to the side and reached down for the shoes. A boy with curly brown hair reached down and picked the shoes up by the laces, tossing them over his shoulder like a towel.
When he turned around, there I saw him. It was Charlie. I almost shrieked in fear because I knew he wouldn’t forget the incident on the front lawn. So many emotions ran through me and I stood there, stuck and confused about what to say.
Charlie laughed and looked me straight in the eyes. “Hey birthday shoes. Hope you didn’t think these kicks were gonna be yours.”
I stared at him. One second ago I was thinking about taking them, but now seeing who they belonged to I was glad I didn’t jump the gun and dig a deeper hole for myself.
“Well, uh, no. Not really.” I looked down at my shoes and saw the tape which held the soles together. I saw the hole on the top of my shoe where my pink sock shone through, exposing itself to the outside world. I felt the same I had once again felt on the other day in the courtyard. Shame.