Despite all I had been through that day, I couldn't help myself from thinking,
The snow looks beautiful today….
It had been a regular day as I walked home from elementary school with Timmy. First grade wasn't for everyone, but I was king of my class. Kids respected me, I was always voted Line Leader, and sometimes the teacher left an apple on my desk in the morning. I thought I had it all under control, until, that day as I walked home from Mrs. Johnson's first grade class with Timothy Rays Anderson.
I hadn't seen the first snowball strike the pavement beside my foot, leaving snowflakes scattered across the concrete. I barely recall the second one whiz past my face and splatter across the trash-can behind me. All I can remember is the third snowball when it was shot straight into red super-man backpack of Timmy.
I turned.
More Snowballs.
Timmy was on the ground.
I run.
I hear screaming.
Just when I think I'm going to feel the icy embrace of a snowball, I see Garrett, the 2nd grade class president, waving me towards him from across the frosted expanse of the schoolyard.
"Chucky Cheeses! Run Jacob, Run!" Garret screamed at me.
That was how I remember the first day of the Great Snow Slaughter of Granite Cliff Elementary. I made it to Garrett's fort that day and I saw tens of scared, cold, and slightly overweight school children.
I knew then that I would be their leader.
Day two wasn't much better than the first, the fourth graders had us pinned down the fort the entire day. Juicy-Juice box supplies ran low, Claire stubbed her toe on some ice, and a sickening epidemic of runny noses ran rampant. This continued through Day Three and Day Four, but that's when I decided I had enough.
"Recess is over!" I screamed at the beginning of Day Five. Shivering heads turned to look at me, a tinge of hope at the back of their eyes.
"I don't know a lot….. I don't know why we don't have nap time anymore, I don't know why the lunch ladies always smell like cough medicine," nods of approval ran through the crowd, "I don't even know how to tie my own shoes! But… I do know one thing: Fourth Graders are Butt-heads!!!"
Cheers arose from all corners of the snow fort, I could see fire behind the freezing eyes of all the first and second graders.
"Well said," Garrett whispered," Well said…."
That was the day things changed. I led multiple raids on the fourth grader's chicken nugget storehouses, which, while they were small victories, boosted morale through the roof. Claire recovered from her stubbed toe with the help of Jim, whose mom was a doctor. Things were going so well, even Garrett, who was usually solemn and brooding, allowed himself a smile from time to time.
I should've known if we built ourselves up to the sky that we would eventually fall hard to the frozen earth. That happened on Day Eight.
"If we can halt their snowball production here," Garrett pointed to the map drawn by Sally (her dad was an artist),"and knock out their snack deliveries at the parking lot here, then we could be home in time for grilled cheese." Everyone around the table nodded their approval, except for me.
"It's too obvious, they'll expect it." I muttered in disapproval. "Excuse me?" Garrett mockingly asked,"If you have a better idea, Captain poopy-pants, then we'd all love to hear it!" I bit my tongue, which made me feel my wobbly tooth and I almost couldn't contain my excitement at the thought of a visit from the Tooth Fairy. It must've shown, because Garrett smiled and whispered,"We do this right and you'll be home to get that quarter for your milk money."
I couldn't argue.
That night we trudged through the snow as quietly as we could towards the fourth-graders snack drop-off.
"Garrett," I said behind him as we walked," about what happened back there-"
"Stop," He cut me off," don't mention it."
He turned his head as he walked to give me an uncharacteristic smile as the first snowball hit him directly in the gut. He fell to his knees clutching his stomach.
"Butt-heads!!!" Claire screamed.
Snowballs flew through the air as we scrambled to counter-attack the ambush. We hadn't brought enough snowballs, Jim fell to the ground, I dodged a projectile lobbed at my shoulder, Sally screamed in pain, kids fled leaderless, I saw Claire lay motionless in the snow.
I turned my head around just in time to see a snowball rapidly approaching my face.
My vision blurred and my ears began to ring as I hit the ground.
My arms felt heavy and pain surged through my body.
Not like this
I don't know if I was unconscious, but suddenly I felt something latch onto me arms and begin dragging me. Next thing I knew, I was in my mom's minivan, seat belted in the seat next to the window. My head was groggy. Timmy…Sally…Claire….Garrett….
"How was your day?" My sweet, sweet ignorant mom asked. I gazed out the window at the snow covered landscape flying past my eyes.
Despite all I had been through that day, I couldn't help myself from thinking,
The snow looks beautiful today….
