Here is a tiny sketch about a topic that I have written about creatively in previous endeavors. I will post that story up some other time. I feel awkward about the aforementioned full story, but let us try this sketch first.
I know I stole that title line from somewhere, but can't put my finger on the exact source.
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Miranda ran back to the car to get the meds. The rest of the children fled the playground, but the bully remains. He wore a shirt with a cartoon dragon on it with a flaming lizard skull for a head. His fingers gripped a clod of dirt, but on the rim of my glasses I saw that his fingers were trembling and tiny flecks of dirt slipped from his fingers.
"Just one punch," he muttered. "Just one. Nothing big. A tap!" He ran towards me, the clod of dirt still in his hand.
"Go away!" My scream tickled the top of my throat. The resonance reminded me of my experiences on the playground screaming across the gully created by a commercial developer's bulldozers. We tried to see who could scream the loudest. I never won, but this scream stopped the bully. I brought Ellis closer to my chest and his head towards my heart. "Go away," I repeated. "Go away and we won't tell your parents. Just go away!"
The bully took a step back and did a double take between my eyes and Ellis', which were rolling back slightly into his head. The bully dropped the clod and ran towards the edge of the playground. I followed his retreat, also eyeing Miranda as she came back with the backpack.
I looked back at Ellis and slid my hand below his shirt. The bruise on his chest had already risen just a bit above the rest of his sink. I felt the whorls of broken blood inside the bruise and imagined the colors through my fingers. Mushy clods were lavender and turgid blobs were blue. Ellis was sweaty from the game and sliding my hand under his shirt so that is cradled his back, I thought him how to breathe.
Heavy panting became whispery wheezing and I held him closer so that my own breathing pushed my abdomen against his. The wheezes were short and metallic with a wet faint gurgle to them. His lungs could not decided whether to whine or scream towards asthmatic asphyxiation.
"Ellis. C'mon Ellis! You have to breath to your nose, like this." I cocked my head back and took a deep nasal breath as if trying to beat the dogs at the airport. In Ellis' own glasses I saw the way my nostrils flared and briefly trembled under the deep breath. I repeated the motion for Ellis who then began to cough. His coughs crackled agaisnt his throat the sides of his mouth before they shotgun out him. Miranda was close at that time, but she still seemed as if she had just gotten up from the picnic table and tapped my shoulder after seeing the bully deck Ellis in the chest.
"Nose, Ellis! Nose!" I sat him up, but still held him to me. He coughed into my shoulder and wound-up for a long wheeze when I screamed again. "Nose! Breathe through your nose!"
I brought my other hand up and pressed my palm to his mouth. Then his own nostrils flared. He inhaled and I pulled him away from me. He exhaled and then I pulled him closer. This other form of breathing also made him wheeze but this one had a hum to it instead of a slice. Miranda arrived with the inhaler and swatted away from hand from Ellis' mouth. She replaced it with the plastic tube. She pumped at the cylinder and blasted shot after shot of aerosol into him. He began to lie back and after Miranda popped the tub out of his mouth he kept breathing through his nose.
"Just one punch," he muttered. "Just one. Nothing big. A tap!" He ran towards me, the clod of dirt still in his hand.
"Go away!" My scream tickled the top of my throat. The resonance reminded me of my experiences on the playground screaming across the gully created by a commercial developer's bulldozers. We tried to see who could scream the loudest. I never won, but this scream stopped the bully. I brought Ellis closer to my chest and his head towards my heart. "Go away," I repeated. "Go away and we won't tell your parents. Just go away!"
The bully took a step back and did a double take between my eyes and Ellis', which were rolling back slightly into his head. The bully dropped the clod and ran towards the edge of the playground. I followed his retreat, also eyeing Miranda as she came back with the backpack.
I looked back at Ellis and slid my hand below his shirt. The bruise on his chest had already risen just a bit above the rest of his sink. I felt the whorls of broken blood inside the bruise and imagined the colors through my fingers. Mushy clods were lavender and turgid blobs were blue. Ellis was sweaty from the game and sliding my hand under his shirt so that is cradled his back, I thought him how to breathe.
Heavy panting became whispery wheezing and I held him closer so that my own breathing pushed my abdomen against his. The wheezes were short and metallic with a wet faint gurgle to them. His lungs could not decided whether to whine or scream towards asthmatic asphyxiation.
"Ellis. C'mon Ellis! You have to breath to your nose, like this." I cocked my head back and took a deep nasal breath as if trying to beat the dogs at the airport. In Ellis' own glasses I saw the way my nostrils flared and briefly trembled under the deep breath. I repeated the motion for Ellis who then began to cough. His coughs crackled agaisnt his throat the sides of his mouth before they shotgun out him. Miranda was close at that time, but she still seemed as if she had just gotten up from the picnic table and tapped my shoulder after seeing the bully deck Ellis in the chest.
"Nose, Ellis! Nose!" I sat him up, but still held him to me. He coughed into my shoulder and wound-up for a long wheeze when I screamed again. "Nose! Breathe through your nose!"
I brought my other hand up and pressed my palm to his mouth. Then his own nostrils flared. He inhaled and I pulled him away from me. He exhaled and then I pulled him closer. This other form of breathing also made him wheeze but this one had a hum to it instead of a slice. Miranda arrived with the inhaler and swatted away from hand from Ellis' mouth. She replaced it with the plastic tube. She pumped at the cylinder and blasted shot after shot of aerosol into him. He began to lie back and after Miranda popped the tub out of his mouth he kept breathing through his nose.
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