It was pitch dark by now; the rusty old basketball court illuminated by a single light. Only a corner of it through— the rest of it remained black. I ran my hands on the wire net surrounding the court on all sides. It felt smooth, and they jingled every time I did so. I could hear the cicadas chirping in the muggy summer air. Somehow, they didn’t bother me. Through the darkness, I made out the faded outlines of the hopscotch that was painted a few years ago. My brother and I would take turns coming up with strange tricks to do with it.
I walked inside the small shed that was at the corner of the court. It sat there, in its ‘white popcorn walls and uneven windows’ pride. The door didn’t fit its frame right, and you would have to slam it extra hard to get it to close. It would always make a loud rattling sound, so loud that everyone in the building would hear it. Inside, it wasn’t much. All there was were a couple of discarded bikes and scooters, a rake and a broken plastic table at best. It seemed like an amazing hiding spot for my neighbors and I when we were younger, meeting up to play games and muck around with no worries whatsoever. The thing was all the adults would tell us there were snakes and spiders and all kinds of scary things in there. We were cowards, and none of us could stand being in there alone for more than five seconds. We’d always run in to get our bikes and rush out as quickly as we could, slamming the door behind us so it rattled.
Yet that was what made my childhood fun. This simple basketball court, with the net holding on to the hoop by a single thread. With its hopscotch lines and basketball markings all faded, along with the memories of my childhood. There were millions of things we could do here. Some days, we’d take out the colorful chalk out and paint our wildest dreams onto the green-red floors. Some days, we’d take out a picnic mat to sit and blow bubbles on. And some days, we'd take our bikes and scooters out and race each other.
It’s been nine years of staring out at this basketball court, to pass it every time I leave the house or return home after a long day. It has given me the best memories which I’ll hold on to, along with the nostalgia it has brought me.
Comentarios