Editor’s Note: We are pleased to publish Mike Maddock’s novel, Sunnybrook, in its entirety as a “50 Something” weekly series for 2021. All published excerpts will also be available on our website, www.TheColumbiaStar.com.
Chapter 12 Cont’d
Mary Katherine and the gang turned their attention to where David and Chris were focused. A couple more seconds passed, then a wet and muddy tuft of blonde hair appeared at the top of the embankment. Next came a face that had obviously been submerged in a creek bed of sand, red clay, and pebbles but was glowing like a gold medal winner and flashing a huge sandy smile. A t-shirt followed that was once white but was now a mixture of grey from the creek water, brown and green from grass and the ground, and dark red from the trickle of various-and fairly harmless scrapes. Wet stained shorts came next. The picture was finally completed with the legs of a little boy— scratched, bruised, and in desperate need of a bath. The canvas Nikes were still somewhere in that creek.
Joey stood at the top of the embankment in front of his audience holding the little yellow skateboard, which had landed several feet behind him and had been planted in the creek bottom like an arrow shot straight up in the air. He was as alive as a little boy could be. His body ached and his clothes were ruined, but he had conquered Sunnybrook and lived to tell about it.
Joey would never have to say another word about Sunnybrook or the little yellow skateboard. His friends would take care of that. The kids in his new apartment complex hundreds of miles away in South Carolina would probably never know the magnitude of this moment, but that didn’t matter now. Joey smiled at his dad, gave Chris a low five, and then raised his skateboard above his head in triumph.
Ryan, Eric, and Jerry erupted. The three boys yelled loud enough to snap Stacy Ward back to reality. The former All-SEC lineman was still lying in the street holding himself when the cheer spread through the neighborhood. He rolled over and smiled despite the fact he was still having a little trouble breathing.
All the boys attacked Joey with hugs, pats on the back, and enough congratulations to make Joey feel like he’d just won the Super Bowl. Joey reveled in their happiness and tried not to let the pats and enthusiastic hugs reveal his aches and pains. Through the flailing arms and bouncy faces, Joey caught a glimpse of his mother. Jamie still had her arm around Mary Katherine’s shoulder. Her eyes told a new story now. Joey knew her pain far exceeded the whims of a little boy. He had just conquered Sunnybrook, but he also realized his mom’s heart hurt much worse than any scratch, bruise, or broken arm he had ever gotten on that stupid road.
The conquests of a little boy would give way to the burdens of a little man. Life would be different with a father four hundred miles away. Life would be different so far from the closest friends he had ever known. There would be no Dirt Hills, no Sunnybrook, and no neighborhood, but he would adjust. He wasn’t so sure about his mom. She carried the heartbreak of a broken marriage, the guilt of taking her son from the only heaven he had ever known, and the fear of starting over.
Joey walked free of his friends and toward his mother. Jamie let her go. Joey looked into Mary Katherine’s eyes and said, “We’re going to be OK.”
She hugged her little boy like no mother had ever hugged a son before. It was a hug of relief, a hug of sorrow, and a hug of absolute joy. David watched still standing on the Stonebridge shoulder. Chris had taken the skateboard, and Eric and Ryan had joined him to marvel at the little piece of yellow plastic with the hard red wheels. It was like they were holding Reggie Jackson’s bat or Mohammed Ali’s boxing gloves.
Copyright © 2020 Mike Maddock
Next week: Joey plants one on Jamie.
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