August Rush

 Tic tic tic tic tic tic tic tic tic tic tic! Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

The icy water grazed my feet ominously as the sprinkler shot back to its original position. I waited, concentrating, trying to time it right. There was a particular moment when one could commence their run around the yard without getting sprayed, but it all depended on precise timing, and of course, how fast you could run.

“Now!” Janae screamed in pure delight and I sprung from the concrete ledge, arms pushing off of the black safety rail I had been gripping. My legs pumped, faster than the sprinklers, and my bare feet sent condensation flying in my wake. I made the turn at the corner of the yard and hopped over that sprinkler, pausing momentarily. I was safe for now, but had to time it right again. Through the spray I was gratified to see the “little kids”, waiting their turns, looking on admiringly. They were drenched.

With prowess that comes only from experience, I recognized the ideal sprinkler pattern and set off again. I dashed around the tree, tiptoeing through the decomposing apricots which littered the thick grass like pulpous grenades, and then it was the last stretch! As I ran my fastest, I felt the coldness from the spray on my neck, just millimeters away. It was as if the sprinkler yearned to have me, and I giggled breathlessly as I narrowly shirked from its grasp. I only slowed when I felt the reassurance of the dry pavement instead of the earthy, wet grass under my feet.

I rejoined the end of the line on the concrete ledge. We looked like passengers hanging off of a trolley car as we held the safety rail, anticipating our next turn. I blushed as I realized I wasn’t entirely dry; I think I had peed a little from that last sprint!

Written in November 2015