Kids At Play

                In the small neighborhood of Cable Acres, a group of teens were playing street hockey on a fairly sunny February day.  The narrow one-lane street is perfect for an afternoon street-hockey tournament, and traffic was hardly ever an issue, save for a slow passing car here and there, where the kids would quickly move out of the way. 

                This day started out just like any other day.  The kids were outside playing, parents were at work and some at home.  News was rare in Cable Acres, the biggest stories were the weather: sunny and hot, rainy and cold.  All the kids enjoyed each other, and did not cause too much trouble, but the small group of elderly did not take very kindly to them. 

                As the day was getting old, the tournament continued on.  The bright blue sky was turning a majestic purple and orange.  Parents were driving home from work and dinner was going to get served.  The street quickly started getting filled with parked cars, and the game would have to come to an end soon.  Though this game had more on the line than any other game played, and has been going on for the past 45 minutes, the longest single game the kids played in so far.

The game was tied at 8, and the first team to reach 10 would win.  The prize?  Bragging rights, and a gold trophy that was made up of a replica Oscar for “Best Dad Award” and aluminum foil for the Oscar’s hockey equipment, but mostly it was the bragging rights.  The game quickly became fierce, and full concentration landed on the ball with little concern of the oncoming cars.  The kids did not want to eat dinner, rather they were hungry for each other's blood.  Nobody wanted to lose, and they were not about to settle for a tie. 

"You're going down Toby," said Gabriel, a snot nose 15 year old boy whose parents spoiled too much.  He had the best equipment money could buy for a kid, but no sense of class. 

Just before the street lights would brighten up the playing field, a car driven by Mrs. Havern, a 62 year old woman with failing eyesight and reflexes as quick as a heavily sedated cat, slowly crept up on the action and forced a stoppage of the play.  The kids angrily moved out of the way as she tried to park her car in her driveway.  None of the kids really liked Mrs. Havern, as she would call their parents or the cops far too many times on them, and most of the time had very little merit in doing so.  As she turned and cleared the path, they hastily moved in to get back into the game, but another car stopped them in their tracks with a screeching horn. 

The oncoming Honda hit the brakes and swerved to stop from hitting one of the kids; Toby, a quiet, 14 year-old B student who lived with his 8 year old sister Sam.  The driver, a young woman just passing by, hit a parked car on the left side of the road, and skidded to the other side in the direction of Mrs. Havern.  Toby just managed to run out of the way, but Mrs. Havern’s car was hit while she was still in the process of parking her car, and instead of pressing the brakes, Mrs. Havern pressed on the accelerator, sending her beige Toyota sedan straight into the garage.  Her airbags deployed and the garage door and loads of junk came piling down on her car.  What would have been just a small little accident to a couple of low-end cars ended up costing the Haverns thousands of dollars worth of property damage, and caused Mrs. Havern psychological damage, as she refused to sit behind the driver’s seat from that day forward.  To the parents of the neighborhood, the kids were heroes.  This was a blessing in disguise as they saved the streets from another dangerous driver.  To the Haverns and the rest of the elderly in the neighborhood, the kids were a nuisance, an unnecessary headache with their loud laughter, chatter and screams of joy as they played outside.  The kids were rude and annoying, yes, but they were just kids.  Do we know them being any different than how they are?  Nevertheless, the less time the old folks can hear them or see them, the better.  Mrs. Havern certainly reached a point where this had to be stopped, that the streets were no place for the kids to play, and keeping them from going outside would be beneficial and safe for everyone, so she took it to court.    

A month later, the neighborhood kids were still reluctant to play outside since the accident.  The parents warned the kids not to until after the hearing, in hopes that it would help their cause.  No need to stir up anymore trouble and convince the court that the streets were in fact too dangerous, they thought. 

Just two days prior to the court hearing, Toby and his sister were sitting outside on their front lawn.  Toby felt extremely guilty about what happened to Mrs. Havern, and felt he was at fault for causing this whole mess, as did everyone else.  If only he hadn't ran back into the streets so soon without looking for oncoming traffic, there wouldn't have been an accident, Mrs. Havern wouldn't have slammed into her garage (though it wouldn't be a surprise if she did one of these days anyway), and there wouldn't be any court hearing about banning kids from playing outside in this already too small neighborhood.  Above all, they could have finished their tournament.  He felt he had let down his friends.  Now he was going to be the center of ridicule, the kid who ruined it for everybody.  He thought, if there was only something he could do to make things right.

He grabbed his sister by the arm, and walked towards Mrs. Havern's house across the street.  If anybody can give a great sad face that would make anybody feel sorry for, it was Sam.  She was a short 4' brunette with big brown eyes and full pouty lips; nobody can resist when she gives the sob look, like the cutest, lost puppy begging for a bite to eat. 

"Ok, I want you to give your best performance," Toby explained to his sister.  "And beg Mrs. Havern to drop the case.  Say we are very sorry and that it wasn't our fault.  Tell her we just want to be kids again and play outside, like she use to when she was our age."

"When she was our age?" questioned Sam with a confused look on her face. 

"I know that's hard to believe," said Toby, "but we have to try to get to her soft spot, if she even has one, so she won't try to keep us from playing outside again." 

Toby hid on the left side of the house behind the bush so the Haverns wouldn't see he was the one up to all this.  Little Sam knocked on the door.  No answer.  She knocked again, still no one showed up.  She banged on the door once more to no avail.  Turning to her brother, shrugging her shoulders, she started to walk away when the door finally opened.  Standing there with a brace around her neck and an aluminum cane in her hand was Mrs. Havern, uglier than the wickedest witch we could imagine in the oldest fairytale.  Silver stranded hair frizzed all about her head, and mounds of makeup filled the creases on her cheekbones.  This wasn't the nice little old lady who made fresh cookies we would fiend for... this was Mrs. Havern. 

Getting thrown out of her game plan, Sam hurried back in place and tried to give her best performance.  "Mrs. Havern, I..."

"What do you want?" said the old woman interrupting the poor little girl in a shallow raspy voice.

Stunned, Sam continued, "Well, you see, I uh... I came here because...uh... my brother, Toby..."

"Toby!?” shouted the witch.  "You mean that brat who caused that lady to run into me!?  Who cost me my car and my garage!?  Who put this thing around my neck!?  The little hooligan that has gotten me so scared to ever drive again!?"

"Yeah, him," replied Sam.  "It wasn't his fault.  Ok, it maybe was his fault, but he didn't mean it."  Toby, hearing the whole conversation, put his hand on his face in disbelief.  This was not going as planned.

"It certainly was his fault," said the witch.  "Tell that little runt to stay the Hell away from me.  I've had enough problems with him and his friends as it is, and that was the last straw.  I will make sure none of you little brats annoy me again.  Especially Toby!" she yelled as she slammed the door in Sam's face before she could get another word in. 

Toby walked up to Sam in front of the door.  "What happened?  That's not what we had planned!"

"She was mean," cried Sam, her eyes watery from being yelled at.  "She has no soft spot." 

The door opened once again, and once more Mrs. Havern stood over the little ones with a look of shock on her face.

"You!" she screamed at Toby, pointing her boney finger at him with one hand and with the other holding herself up with the cane as she walked towards him.  "You get out of here, both of you, now!  I don't ever want to see your pathetic faces here again.  You!  Look what you've done to my neck!  Get out, now!  Get out!  I..."  She started looking faint in the face, her voice softer, and her eyes were shutting slowly.  "I... I think... I'm having a heart attack."

The kid's eyes were open up wide, their mouths dropping to the floor, frozen still.  They looked at each other, and quickly ran back home to tell their parents what had happened.  The police and ambulance showed up across the street, and took a breathing Mrs. Havern in the ambulance.  Her husband, a quiet old man who kept to himself, stood there watching unemotionally as they pulled out of their driveway. 

This did not look good for their case.  It was almost certain the ban was becoming a reality.  Out of ideas and hoping to get one more hoorah in before the case, Toby decided to get everybody together for one last game of street hockey.  What do they have to lose? 

The day prior to the hearing, the kids got together for one last game of street hockey, this time it wasn't for bragging rights, it was for the right to have fun and be kids.  Even the parents showed up and watched this historic game for the kids and the community, cheering on not only their children, but all children participating.  It was one big celebration and everybody was having fun.

Though the last game was fierce and very competitive and was played for bragging rights and a trophy, this game was just the opposite, fun and friendly all the way around.  In fact, nobody was even keeping score.  However, the game wasn’t allowed to continue very long without being interrupted.

Out of nowhere, Mrs. Havern and the rest of the gray crew showed up screaming at the kids.  "What are you doing?  Get out of here, you kids shouldn't be outside playing!"

“What’s your problem lady?” questioned Toby, getting into Mrs. Havern’s face.  Mrs. Havern grabbed Toby's hockey stick from his hands and threw it out of sight, not paying attention to where she was throwing it.  The stick hit Gabriel’s father, who happens to be an off-duty police officer and U.S. Marine veteran. 

“Excuse me, ma’am, but do you realize that stick you threw struck me on my head and chest?”
Sgt. Stevens told Mrs. Havern.  “That could have been a child you hit with that stick.”

“I wish it did,” she replied.  Catching what she had said in front of the police officer and everybody else for that matter, she hesitated, with a look of tremendous guilt.  “I mean, you know…”

“No, I don’t know, ma’am.  What do you mean?” he said. 

The crowd was in shock over what they heard.  The kids were surprised, but very happy.  They knew she had just ruined it for herself.  Then it occurred to Toby.

“Wait, didn’t you have a heart attack yesterday?” Toby asked.  “How are you even here screaming at us like that?”

“Well, I uh…”  Mrs. Havern mumbled, trying to come up with a quick excuse.

“She faked everything,” said an unfamiliar voice.  The crowd turned to see who was talking.  Walking towards the crowd with pictures in his hand, it was Mr. Havern.  “She just wanted to get the kids out of her sight, so she faked everything.  She blamed the accident on the kids, but it wasn’t the kid’s fault.  She just used that story to get rid of them, and faked the injury for the insurance.  She also faked the heart attack to help her case, saying that young Toby had caused it.  I have pictures to prove it…”

“What are you doing, Carl?” Mrs. Havern cried.  “How can you say those things?”

“Give it up, Gloria,” replied Mr. Havern.  “These kids don’t deserve to get banned from playing outside.  And you basically ruined things yourself, showing up here like that, and did you just hit Sgt. Stevens with a hockey stick?  You’re a real piece of work, you know that? 

Mrs. Havern was caught, and the whole neighborhood turned against her and the rule to ban children from playing outside.  Needless to say, the law did not pass, and Mrs. Havern went back to being the snobby old witch she’s always been, and the kids made sure to be extra loud and obnoxious whenever she was around.  

Based on this story.  http://www.wftv.com/news/27408149/detail.html