\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/957329-Scene-02--I-Can-Play-This-Game
Image Protector
Rated: 13+ · Book · Teen · #2189048
Story of Torey Campbell, Part 1. Beginning through First Plot Point. Work in progress.
#957329 added September 27, 2020 at 2:05pm
Restrictions: None
Scene 02 _ I Can Play This Game
Scene 02 Rev G


Scene 02 “I Can Play This Game”

Torey Campbell – Protagonist
Addo Okoro – New Acquaintance. Will become best friend



         "I can play this game," Torey Campbell said to himself, watching the ragtag collection of boys intent on their soccer game.
         Torey desperately wanted to play this game. Today, once more, he stopped after school, to watch the pickup game being played on the abandoned soccer field behind Butler Cowan Middle School. The waning afternoon sun on this late summer day was sliding below the houses across the street, and the shadow line was creeping over the field like a thief stealing the daylight. Summer was leaving, fall was coming, and Drullins was shifting into the autumn life of a big city.
         The abandoned soccer field was a relic from the past. The Drullins community, with help from the City of Allerford, had created it on a vacant lot years ago, but this citizens' big dream, like all others, quickly ran out of money and neighborhood support. Located behind the middle school, it was not on school property, did not belong to the school, and was not maintained by them. If this place ever had a name, it was forgotten by now. Most people mistakenly referred to it as the "Cowan Field." "The Fletcher Avenue Field" worked just as well.
         The steel frames of the goals still stood, but the nets were long gone. The ground was full of weeds trampled down by the foot traffic of kids using it as their only playground. Boundary lines were now just bare ground, made weedless by the lime once spread there for field markings.
         On the street side, sat a section of beat-up bleachers; three tiers high and about twenty feet long. Why it had not been stolen and hauled off for scrap money is anyone's guess – maybe just too heavy.
         Torey plopped down on the bleachers watching intently as the game played on. I can play this game, he thought again, as he watched. There's just a ball; no expensive equipment. Those guys are all my size, and I can run as fast as they do.
         Play continued, with frequent squabbles and good-natured trash talk between the players. Time for a break. The players walked off the field to the far end of the bleachers where their bags were laying. Occasionally one glanced at Torey. Everyone pulled out water bottles. One player gathered up his bag, exchanged farewells with the others, and headed home.
         "Hey kid, wanna play?" called the player who appeared to be the leader of the group, looking straight at Torey. He was black — so black he would make a dark hole in the night.
         "Sure," replied Torey, jumping off the bleachers and running onto the field.
         "I'm Addo Okoro," said the boy who had called him, flashing a broad smile, accenting his white teeth against his black skin. "These are …", he said, reeling off names Torey didn't get and for sure wouldn't remember. "You fill in for Kyle on Terek's team."
         "Ever play soccer before?"
         "No."
         "We'll teach you."
         For the next half hour, Torey had more fun than he could remember ever having in his life. Kicking, missing, running, falling, getting kicked, sweating, … even scoring one goal purely by accident. Torey’s bright red ‘carrot-top’ hair and light complexion flashed in the sunlight contrasting with the mostly dark features of the other players.
         The twilight had deepened to almost dark when the boys finally had enough. Each gathered up his bag and headed off – trash talking as they departed. Addo held back and joined Torey on the bleachers.
         "For someone who neva played fo, you pretty good."
         "Thanks," replied Torey, wiping away the sweat with his shirt.
         “You wanna play more?” Addo inquired as he pulled out his water bottle and took a long drink, then offering the bottle to Torey.
         “Sure!” Torey responded with uncontained enthusiasm, accepting the offered drink.
         "Mr. Dreyer, the soccer coach at Rutherford High School, runs a feeder team for middle school kids," said Addo. After a pause, he continued, "It gives him a way to pick players and train 'em before high school. He doesn't expect new kids to have any experience, and he pretty much takes anyone who shows up."
         "You think I can play?" inquired Torey.
         "Don't see why not. I play for him. We practice three days a week. Wednesday's our next practice. I'll take you if you want."
         "Sure do," replied Torey, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
         "But hear this," Addo cautioned with a stern look, "Mr. Dreyer don't take no messin around or a bad attitude. So if you a troublemaker or a crybaby, you won't make it. If I take you there, they think I'm vouchin for you. I just met you an hour ago, and I don't know nothin bout you. If'n you make me look bad, we got a big problem."
         "Understood," Torey shot back.
         "We practice at Runestone Park over on Merchant Avenue. Know where that is?"
         "Yeah."
         "Can you get there?"
         "Sure."
         "Be there at 3 o'clock. You have any better shoes?"
         "No."
         "Uh oh," Addo moaned.
         Torey hurried home, already late for supper, knowing that a scolding from his father awaited. He wheeled his bike into the backyard and climbed the three steps to the back porch and the kitchen door, looking at his shoes as he went. What's wrong with these?

###

Word Count: 920
Readability Consensus (Based on 8 readability formulas)
         Grade Level: 5
         Reading Level: easy to read.
         Reader's Age: 8-9 yrs. old (Fourth and Fifth graders)

© Copyright 2020 flyfishercacher (UN: rlhazlett at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
flyfishercacher has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/957329-Scene-02--I-Can-Play-This-Game