Page 25 of James

The boy, who couldn’t be more than twelve, had at least managed to hit the bottles with his first round of rings, but not land his ring over any of them. He still had one round of tries left, but his little sister had blown through all six of her rings and none of them had hit or come close to the bottles. She was close to tears now.

Very much aware that he was a strange man approaching children, James knelt in front of the girl with plenty of space between them and his hands on his knees. “Why are you so sad, sweetheart?”

To his amusement and approval, her brother stepped a bit closer as if he wanted to protect her. James made eye-contact and gave a comforting chin lift in acknowledgement.Don’t worry, kiddo, I won’t hurt your sister.He gave the mother a crooked smile, acknowledging her understandable caution.I’m a good guy, I swear.

“I w-wanted to win th-the p-pony” the little girl cried.

“I see. By wanting the prize, you forgot to have fun tossing the ring. Why don’t you try it again, just for the fun of playing?”

“But mommy told me I only could try twice,” she whined.

From his haunches, he looked up at the mother.

The mother shifted from foot to foot, although itdidn’t seem like her anxiety was directed at him. “We have time, but I… I can’t afford to buy any more tickets.”

“It’s my dime this time, ma’am,” James assured her, reaching for his wallet. “I just want her to leave with a positive experience.”

“In that case, thank you.” The woman smiled tentatively. “Abby, what do we say?”

“Thank you!” Abby chanted.

“Okay, sweetheart, let your brother finish his turn first.” James nodded at the taller boy. The boy turned back to the game and shook out his arm. He took in a deep breath and threw the ring. It hit the bottle and bounced off.

“Don’t aim for the bottle,” James advised. “Hold the rings flat. Pretend you’re tossing a frisbee to a little puppy that you want to catch it. Give your wrist a snap, but not too hard. It’s just a little puppy, remember? Toss it right above his head, very gentle, so it drops straight down.”

The young man did as he was told. He concentrated on the center peg and after a few practice wrist-wiggles, gave it a toss. The ring floated through the air and came down perfectly flat over the neck of the bottle.

They all erupted in cheers and the barker called out, “We have a winner! One out of three rings wins the young man a bottom shelf prize, anything you want from the bottom shelf! You’ve got one ring left, five bucks for three rings. Get a second ring over the bottle and you win a second-shelf prize or two third-shelf prizes!”

“No pressure,” James told the boy. “Just like you did before. Take a deep breath, let it out slow, and give it a toss. Gently.”

“Like a puppy,” the boy murmured seriously, and threw.

Once again, the ring sailed smoothly through the air and dropped down over the neck of a bottle.

“And he did it!” the barker called. “So easy, even a child can do it! Two out of three rings wins one second-shelf prize or two third-shelf prizes. What’ll it be, what’ll it be? Only five dollars for three rings, even one ring over the bottle wins a prize!”

The girl now was bouncing on her feet in excitement. “Please teach me, too, Mister. Please, pretty please!”

“All right, sweetheart, let’s have some fun. In the meantime, your brother can look around and choose his prize.” James gave the brother an approving nod, and the boy smiled a big toothy grin before turning away to study the t-shirts, alien balloons and walking puppets on the second shelf.

“Remember,” James addressed the sister. “The play is the fun. Not a prize you might win, not the next ring you’ll be throwing, but what you’re doing now. It’s important to be relaxed. Remember what I told your brother. Just like you’re tossing a frisbee to a tiny puppy who can’t jump up to catch it.”

She nodded and bit her lip - her expression filled with concentration. James silently crossed his fingers for her. She mimicked her brother’s practice motions with a bit more enthusiasm and then, with a flick of her wrist, the ring soared through the air and bumped the canvas wall behind the bottles.

“Great throw!” he exclaimed before disappointment could flood her eyes. “You really can throw far! You play baseball? No? With that arm, you’re a natural, kid.”

The girl giggled. “I want to try again.”

James nodded and gestured for her to go ahead. This time the ring hit the neck of the bottle, but bouncedoff.

“Try to look at the bottle you want to hit and don’t look down at your hand,” he advised. “You’ve hit the right speed and angle, now all you have to do is adjust the force,”

The girl pooched out her lip and bent her knees, her little brow furrowed with determination. She waved her arm once, twice, then let it go. The ring flew, bonked the left bottle, flipped over, and landed perfectly over the neck of the middle bottle. The spectators who had gathered around the booth erupted in cheers and applause and some began calling out for tickets.

“That’s another winner!” the barker called. “One out of three gets the little lady a prize from the bottom shelf. Who’s next? Five bucks for three rings, get a ring over the bottle even once and you’re a winner!”

The mother thanked James with tears in her eyes. Giving her a firm nod, he turned to the boy. “Do you know which prize you want yet?”

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