I had to imitate a passage from an author of my choice and I chose Fiesta 1980 by Junot Diaz. Diaz writes in the first person, past tense point of view which was a little difficult for me at first. I found it hard to include details like Diaz did but nonetheless, I wrote about a childhood “first time” experience of my own.
The first and only time I broke a bone I was on the monkey bars in the school yard. The sun was hot on steel bars and the woodchips below soaked up any and all moisture in the vicinity. It was dry. Dry and Hot. It was the second recess of the day, my favorite since it was twice as long and the ice cream truck usually came. I usually got a Tweetybird ice cream with gumballs for eyes, eating the gumballs before they froze was the key. It was no surprise that today I was found racing back and forth on my own since that’s where I usually was, trying to beat the record I set for myself last recess. The metal was hot; there was no time to dangle or dilly-dally.
I had to beat my record. The course was long and winding so I had to maneuver around the curves in order to keep my momentum. Michelle was there too, she watched me a lot and would sometimes even warn me if the woman with the whistle and high socks was coming to tell me to slow down. She often blew her whistle alarmingly to keep us kids in line and when she was gone we would go back to our business. Her high white socks and pristine Saucony tennis shoes accompanied a well-starched white blouse and awkwardly long plaid skirt. And that whistle. I tried. Eleven seconds.
A week later and I still had not beaten my record. I was so close. Today was the day I would make it across the steel jungle of bars in less than nine seconds. The ice cream truck blared a warped version of Pop goes the weasel and I knew that if I was going to beat the record I had to beat the heat first. Tweety. By the time I finished my ice cream my hands were covered in yellow sugar and Michelle had borrowed a timer from Coach Smith. I ran to the bathroom to rinse off the leftover Tweety residue and stuck my hands under the new automatic sensor hand dryers. Impatient with not having paper towels I ran back to the yard and briefed Michelle on when to start the timer. It had to be perfect. Ready, Set…Go!
Under the monkey bars! Come quick! Michelle said to the woman in white socks, she slipped off and can’t move her arm!