THE SLING Pt. 2: WHY?

Art by Eli Ferris

4

“Sammy Harlowe cuttin it up with Delilah Diamond, now I’ve heard everything,” Seth said with a chuckle as we passed under the sign bidding us farewell to Highland Elementary.

“I’m impressed, really Sam,” he continued.

“Cut it.”

“No, no. Mr. Big Shot, Sammy Harlowe.”

“Shut up.”

“Jiving with the beautiful…”

“Are you…”

“The wonderful…”

“Jesus Chri…”

“The magnificent…”

“Are ya done?”

“Delilah Diamond!” he said like a practiced radio announcer. “You better not be lyin to me. You can have a pretty active imagination sometimes my friend.”

I replied with a smile, knowing full well my best friend wasn’t going to let me off easy. “It was nothing, really, she ain’t all that different than any of these other hens.”

“Now I know you’re lyin. ‘Ain’t no different’. C’mon man, we both know you’ve been in love with this broad since like kindergarten,” I didn’t protest. “So let me guess; She is on the playground, leaning up against the wall and looking cool, her hair’s perfect, those eyes a flutter, the sun is shinin, birds singin, and in walks the cool, calm, collected Sammy Harlowe, ready to woo his love.”

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THE SLING Pt. 1: WHO?

Art by Eli Ferris

1

The rain pattered down, gently slapping the long row of windows lining the left side of Ms. Chandler’s 5th grade classroom. Small desks filled the center of the room, perfectly placed into two rows of ten. A large bookshelf on the back wall burst with colorful picture books. Ms. Chandler’s wide desk sat in the front, constructed of hard mahogany and covered in assorted papers and assignments. A bright, red apple carved from wood stood erect in the center, a cartoon worm protruding from its side. On the apple, in black, bubble letters, read the greeting “Welcome to Ms. Chandler’s Classroom”.

I sat in the back of the class, taking in the scene. It was much the same as it had been for last six months. I always showed up early. I hated the idea of being late almost as much as being caught off guard.  A classroom is like a small town, each classmate has a story and very often it takes a little work to get it out of them. I liked to think I knew them pretty well. So much for that.