Before his parents and Anna went to his Uncle Finn’s for the Fourth of July, Bobby sneaked out of the house. He picked up his basketball and went out the garage and hopped on his bike and rode to Friendship.
This was Bobby’s first time back there since he punched Harrison. Bobby entered the basketball courts and shot jumpers. His thin lowcut black Chuck’s weren’t much protection against the blacktop’s heat, and the sun stung his eyes, and sweat flicked off his forehead.
After maybe ten minutes, Bobby saw Harrison Bentley, his friend Rick Jenkins and two other, bigger kids advancing toward the courts. Bobby didn’t take Harrison seriously, but respected Rick. He was small and wiry, but didn’t run from a fight. But Bobby wasn’t sure about the big kids.
He bent to shoot again, and felt a hand slap the ball out of his hands and push his back, and Bobby turned and saw Rick Jenkins. Grabbing Rick’s arm, Bobby spun him around, and said, “What’s your problem?” Bobby applied more pressure and said, “Had enough?”
“Yeah,” Rick said, and Bobby let him go. Bobby bent to retrieve the ball, and one big guy slugged him in the jaw and the other big guy came from behind and knocked Bobby to his knees and pinned him to the blacktop with his right knee. Bobby endured Rick stomping and stomping and stomping on his chest.
Everyone except Harrison kicked him in the ribs from both sides, and Bobby prayed they would let up. But he endured one final indignity. Harrison spat in his face and in his little girl’s voice said, “Had enough?”
They started away, and Bobby heard them laugh and say, “That was great.” He lay there oblivious to the scorching blacktop. The greasy sweat stung his eyes, and his face throbbed and his head buzzed.
Bobby winced and stood, and blood dripped off the back of his head and hit the blacktop creating a smudge resembling a child’s crayon shading. Bobby felt the the back of his head. It was warm and sticky, but he couldn’t tell how just how bad it was.
Bobby took off his sweaty shirt and tied it twice around his head. He got on his bike and rested the ball on his lap and pressed the ball against the bike’s frame. Queasy, Bobby rode slowly home.