It was before the game started, half past eleven, and we were sitting alone at the very top row of the stadium, under the rim of the fish bowl.
The world was spread out before us. I sat between Lafflin and Bobby, our sneakers on the seats in front of us, and our heads against the cool black wire. The sun was hot and the shade was calm and the rest of the crowd was far, far away. We could see our entire school sitting below like a colony of little ants, burning under a magnifying glass. They had no idea we had snuck away.
The players swung their bats and stretched their legs, chewing and kicking and jogging. Throwing and catching. One of them laughed.
It was hot way down in the benches, and we hated baseball anyways. So when we noticed the shade way up near the clouds, the three of us practically ran. There were guards at every entrance, but somehow, one was left open. Maybe they were on break. Maybe they just missed us. Or maybe they figured there wasn't much reason behind guarding an entire empty section of seats.
We were sitting in the farthest corner, in the farthest row. We could touch the sky, if only we reached high enough.
Our eyes faced forward, palms in our laps. Things were quiet up there. We weren't saying much.
"I'm going to see my dad next week."
Lafflin looked at me, and looked away.
"I'm sorry," he said.
The generation holding hands. I laughed.
"He's really a pretty swell guy, when you know him. ...It'll be fine, really."
He looked at me. He looked away.
"What happens if they find us?" Bobby's low voice pitched, but no one bothered to laugh.
"Just hope the camera guys have mercy," I told him.
The city sat like a broken clock beyond the horizon of highway and factory.
"Did you know," Lafflin asked me, "this is the first time I've ever broken the rules?"
I looked at him and smiled. "I know," I said. And I did.
It was so peaceful, up there in the shadows. The speakers came on, and the National Anthem was sung by everyone but us. We couldn't really hear them anyways, and no one was watching. The two boys were embarrassed, and I was politically neutral, so the three of us just stood with our caps off and waited. We looked ahead, down the hundreds of rows, down so far it was downright scary if you leaned forward too far.
"I'm so scared I'm just gonna lean over and fall all the way to the bottom." Lafflin leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. "I hate falling..."
"You wouldn't hit bottom, man. We'd catch you." Bobby sure is reassuring, if nothing else.
There was something about the city I just couldn't get over, ever since the buses had pulled up. I pointed to the horizon of smoke and angles. "Hey - count how many cranes you see."
Lafflin takes games seriously. "Six."
"Six cranes. Look around the other way, and you'd probably see twelve more. They're everywhere, man, building and building and... Why do they keep building? Why keep going up? Don't you think they'd be done at some point? They have to stop some day."
Lafflin squinted. His loopy eye twitched. "They aren't moving..."
"But see, that's - that's just the thing. They're all just... standing there. Like they're watching over it all, like - like angels of the streets. Sometimes it seems like there aren't even people up there controlling them. Like they just... built themselves. A city of cranes. Up and down and up and down. Just... building."
He had his squinty, thinking eyes. "Yeah..."
None of us wanted to leave. The game was about to start, but way up in the clouds, it was quiet, and we were alone. Watching the cranes watch us.
The crowd in the noontime sun was cheering and singing and shouting. Holding up signs, holding up gloves, calling out names and hoping for a win. But up there, right then, we were alone. Alone above the crowd, and peaceful above the chaos. The wind gently brushed against us in the shadows where we hid.
"We should go."
I looked at him. "We really should, shouldn't we. We really, really should."
If we do all that we're told that we should, we wouldn't get done half the things we really want to.
The world was spread out before us. I sat between Lafflin and Bobby, our sneakers on the seats in front of us, and our heads against the cool black wire. The sun was hot and the shade was calm and the rest of the crowd was far, far away. We could see our entire school sitting below like a colony of little ants, burning under a magnifying glass. They had no idea we had snuck away.
The players swung their bats and stretched their legs, chewing and kicking and jogging. Throwing and catching. One of them laughed.
It was hot way down in the benches, and we hated baseball anyways. So when we noticed the shade way up near the clouds, the three of us practically ran. There were guards at every entrance, but somehow, one was left open. Maybe they were on break. Maybe they just missed us. Or maybe they figured there wasn't much reason behind guarding an entire empty section of seats.
We were sitting in the farthest corner, in the farthest row. We could touch the sky, if only we reached high enough.
Our eyes faced forward, palms in our laps. Things were quiet up there. We weren't saying much.
"I'm going to see my dad next week."
Lafflin looked at me, and looked away.
"I'm sorry," he said.
The generation holding hands. I laughed.
"He's really a pretty swell guy, when you know him. ...It'll be fine, really."
He looked at me. He looked away.
"What happens if they find us?" Bobby's low voice pitched, but no one bothered to laugh.
"Just hope the camera guys have mercy," I told him.
The city sat like a broken clock beyond the horizon of highway and factory.
"Did you know," Lafflin asked me, "this is the first time I've ever broken the rules?"
I looked at him and smiled. "I know," I said. And I did.
It was so peaceful, up there in the shadows. The speakers came on, and the National Anthem was sung by everyone but us. We couldn't really hear them anyways, and no one was watching. The two boys were embarrassed, and I was politically neutral, so the three of us just stood with our caps off and waited. We looked ahead, down the hundreds of rows, down so far it was downright scary if you leaned forward too far.
"I'm so scared I'm just gonna lean over and fall all the way to the bottom." Lafflin leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. "I hate falling..."
"You wouldn't hit bottom, man. We'd catch you." Bobby sure is reassuring, if nothing else.
There was something about the city I just couldn't get over, ever since the buses had pulled up. I pointed to the horizon of smoke and angles. "Hey - count how many cranes you see."
Lafflin takes games seriously. "Six."
"Six cranes. Look around the other way, and you'd probably see twelve more. They're everywhere, man, building and building and... Why do they keep building? Why keep going up? Don't you think they'd be done at some point? They have to stop some day."
Lafflin squinted. His loopy eye twitched. "They aren't moving..."
"But see, that's - that's just the thing. They're all just... standing there. Like they're watching over it all, like - like angels of the streets. Sometimes it seems like there aren't even people up there controlling them. Like they just... built themselves. A city of cranes. Up and down and up and down. Just... building."
He had his squinty, thinking eyes. "Yeah..."
None of us wanted to leave. The game was about to start, but way up in the clouds, it was quiet, and we were alone. Watching the cranes watch us.
The crowd in the noontime sun was cheering and singing and shouting. Holding up signs, holding up gloves, calling out names and hoping for a win. But up there, right then, we were alone. Alone above the crowd, and peaceful above the chaos. The wind gently brushed against us in the shadows where we hid.
"We should go."
I looked at him. "We really should, shouldn't we. We really, really should."
If we do all that we're told that we should, we wouldn't get done half the things we really want to.
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