Joey sat in the school library for hours. He hid there during recess and lunch periods, but the sounds of everyone out on the playground came through the open windows. Hearing the sound of other children shrieking was bad, and as Joey listened he tried to imagine it came from children somewhere far away. When he did see them the distance apparent between what they could do and what he could not was too terrible. He would perch at the dark wood of the windowsill, holding himself upright and steady with one hand as he watched. Children in groups skipped ropes, chased balls, played tag. The teacher with recess duty wore a light jacket and an expression of endless weary patience. He or she sometimes called out across the tarmac, “Hey! That’s enough of that, Loreen!”
Unseen and unimportant, from the high window Joey observed when the teacher rushed to the aid of a fallen child or broke up a playground fight. He hated it. Watching reminded him that no one would ever need to run to prevent him from doing something he shouldn’t; watching only reminded him that he couldn’t run.
Joey moved to a table where he could sit with his back to the windows. Determinedly Joey closed his ears to the cries of his peers playing outside the walls and forever beyond his ken.
Eventually Joey made his way through all of the school magazines. He began to take the bus to the public library. After school Joey sat among the adult publications where he felt less excluded. Around him sat members of his home city’s increasing homeless population, noisily turning pages and keeping a careful eye on their oversized bags of belongings. There were a few students, or grown ups coming in to claim the copies of recent novels they had put on hold, and every so often a class of younger children arrived for reading hour. Otherwise though, Joey could feel like he was simply another library user, ageless and without handicaps.
This was when he discovered adult magazines with their endless advertisements for write-in contests, coupons to win prizes, and teasers to learn more about great deals. Joey flipped pages hunting for things to win, things to present to his parents. Joey wanted, Lou said thoughtfully, to present them with distractions from the nonrefundable item they’d brought home from the hospital: their youngest son and his damaged body.
– from my short story “Hit and Run” in Broken In: A Novel in Stories. Available online at amazon.com, amazon.de, and amazon in countries everywhere. Go to my post Hit & Run 1 for more on Joey, Lou and Margaret.
11 thoughts on “Hit & Run 2”
Got me in the heart with that excerpt Jadi.
Thanks for commenting, Mike! I’ll be posting the closing excerpt to this chapter from my novel tomorrow, so please come back.
What a touching story, I feel what he felt through your text.
Thanks so much – I’m glad the writing struck a chord. I’m posting more of this excerpt in a few days.
Such sadness comes through as a child denies himself the joy of playing with friends and is sure a parent can’t love him as he is. A wonderfully written piece.
xxx Huge Hugs xxx
Thanks, David! So glad you enjoyed it. I’ll be posting the 3rd and final part to this book excerpt at the end of the month.
wonderful and you made me really imagine what joey was feeling, an amazing bit of writing
Wow! What a great compliment!
I thought this was going to be painful Jadi !!! brilliant piece of writing….XX
Thanks Valerie! I have fun selecting passages from my book to use in short posts. This story was an easy one.