Joshua swung open the creaky closet door, digging for an old pair of sneakers, left over from his high school days. His wife had asked if he ‘really’ needed them a week prior and he only now remembered the conversation. He found the shoes, but his eye were drawn to his old skateboard. Man, he couldn’t remember the last time he used it, but the memories that surfaced from the depths of his life brought a smile to his face.
Maybe he would take it out again, just around the block. The school kids around the neighborhood would probably laugh at him, but he didn’t care. One more journey for old times sake; that is what he would call it. He sat in the foyer, nodding like a bobble head doll to his wife’s questions on the appearance of an old love. He told her never to mind, he was just going to go out for a little bit.
Sneakers squeaked on the polished floor as they waited for the bodies to thin out. One by one being called forward from the line of scrutiny. Until only five remained. The same five as last time… and the time before that.
Knuckles rapped on a clipboard. “Well boys,” the graying teacher stated. “Looks like you five are a team… again. Feels just like High school ‘all’ over again, huh?”
The four divided teams were given different color jerseys and a shiny new ball before heading to their designated courts.
Neck muscles strained to look his, much taller, opponent in the eyes. Rion was not surprised by the overconfident smirk he found. As the coach pointed out, nothing had changed.
“You shrimps ready to get you’re asses handed to you?”
The events that played on the monitors were numerous. Some… good deeds. Some… definitely not so good. And a few had Rommy wondering what had become of humans throughout the years. But, with his plain black coffee mug set in its normal spot, the man leaned back in the reclining chair, ready to start his evening of ‘people watching’.
His job was to spot anything out of the norm and warn those who would take care of it. A duty suited for a security guard getting up in his years. The younger guards could have dirty work. He had paid his dues after thirty-two years, his special order chair had been ‘earned’.
Now his working evenings were spent in front of three monitors, watching the events on each as if they were his own TV channels.