Page 3 of Summer Message

The hot sun is beating down on my fair skin. I’m going to be sore tonight when I stop and realize how burnt I really am. I love my fair skin, red hair, and hazel eyes. My dad is always teasing me that I should’ve been born in Ireland.

I turn on my 80’s country playlist from Spotify so I can entertain myself while I work and climb the ladder.

As I get to the final stretch of the gutters, I see something red.Anotherfrisbee? I dig it out of the muck of at least three layers of dead wet leaves. It’s so slimy and gross. It’s not hard like a frisbee. I tug harder, but it’s caught on something. I grab the gutter, so I don’t fall off the ladder.

“A balloon? What the hell is it doing in my gutter? I start to toss the balloon on the ground when I noticed a string attached to it. There’s a card lying in the gutter with a hole punched through it. I read it out loud.

”If you find this balloon, text me at 432-555-9983 and let me know where my balloon ended up. Matthew.”

Hmm. I rip off the card and put it in my back pocket. Should I message him or let it go?

2

Matthew

“Thanks, man, for letting me crash with you until my place is ready.” I clap my friend Al on the shoulder.

Al Jackson has been my best friend since we started college and became roommates. When I found out that he was a teammate as well, that made our friendship even stronger. He helped me when I stayed at the campus. He moved into the new room with me, and when I couldn’t do things, he never complained.

“No problem, man. Now that I’m a Titan, I don’t mind carrying your lazy ass around.” I chuckle at him as I throw a pillow at him, which he dodges. “Seriously, stay as long as you want. I hate that you’re even going to another place. I like knowing my house is looked after when I’m on the road.”

“I can call the landlord and see if I can get out of my lease. I thought you’d be sick of me.”

“Nah. We’re both homebodies, so it works for me.”

I text my landlord to let him know that I won’t need the apartment after all. “There. Sent the message. What do you want to do?” I rub my calf. It’s sore tonight. Once in a while I still have pain from the accident.

The coach convinced me while I was laid up to think hard about what I wanted to do with my life, and I became a sports physical therapist. I’m working at the local hospital five days a week and every other weekend. I did orientation, and now I’m getting ready to start next Monday. I had so much fun learning about things and it challenged me.

There’s also a local high school near where Al and I live that’s looking for a high school football coach. I’m so happy to be interviewing there. I’m no longer angry about losing my career, but I struggle with depression. Especially when Al talks about football camp, traveling, and playing on the field. I miss it.

“Let’s check out the nightlife. We’re both single, good-looking guys. Well I am.” Al laughs as he puffs out his chest.

“Sounds like a plan. Let me go get ready.” I stand up and start to take a step when my leg gives, and I topple over the coffee table, smacking my face off of the end table. “Son of a bitch!”

Al runs over to help me up. He sits me down on the coffee table.”Dude, you need stitches.”

My head is bleeding like a mother fucker, and my face hurts bad. It throbs like somebody yanked off their helmet on the field and beat me with it. The bleeding is spraying like a hose when you’re watering the garden.

“Yeah, I do. I smacked my head pretty hard.” Al hands me a towel with some ice in it to put on my face. “Drop me off and I’ll get a cab when I’m done. Go out have some fun.”

“No. I’m not going to leave you alone.” His words remind me exactly why he’s my best friend.

“It’s going to be hours before I’m even seen, so go get some lady action.” I punch his shoulder with my left arm as we walk out of the townhouse.

We live in downtown Nashville, so the hospital isn’t too far. I could even walk home, depending on when I’m done. After navigating through the traffic, Al gets me signed into the hospital. It’s a weeknight, so it’s not too bad yet, but happy hour is starting up.

“Are you sure about me leaving? I don’t want to leave you in the lurch.” Al stands by the nurse’s desk looking around the waiting room.

I know he’s been wanting to get out and explore more. He doesn’t need me there all the time crimping his style.

“Yes. I’m positive. Go.” I smile and then groan. “Call me if you need me.” I remind him.

He walks out smiling. I know I made the right choice. They call my name to head into triage.

I glanced at the nurse through watery eyes. “I was wondering if I could have another towel. This one is completely soaked.”

The nurse grabs the wheelchair for me. “Oh my. They said you had a cut on your face, but not like this. We need to get you back now.”

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