SOUL

football games & visions

September 20th, 2007

It had been months since Leo had stood up for Marigold on that first day of school, and things had changed a lot since then. A new school year had begun, fourth grade. Leo had joined the football team, and with his natural speed and determination, he'd become the star player. He was now the running back—the fastest kid on the team. The tension between him and Greg had eased as they spent more time together on the field. Greg was the quarterback, and over the year, they'd become the two best players on the team, often joking around and working together as though nothing had ever happened between them.

But while Leo had grown closer to his teammates, there was one person who had stayed constant in his life: Marigold. She was still his best friend, though she hadn't changed much over the past year. She was still quiet, and she still walked with a slight air of detachment from the world around her. But to Leo, she was perfect just the way she was.

His busy football schedule meant they didn't hang out as much outside of school, but Leo always made time for her. He walked with her to the bus stop, sat with her at lunch when he could, and made sure that the other kids left her alone. Over time, the teasing had stopped. Leo had made sure of that. It wasn't long before Marigold was able to get through her school day in peace, without the constant whispers or snickers from the other kids.

And sometimes, she would come to his football games, sitting with his parents in the stands, cheering him on. Leo loved knowing that she was there, watching. It put him at ease in a way nothing else did. Even though they were only ten years old, Leo found himself thinking about her more often than he cared to admit. He'd developed a crush—a massive crush—on his odd, quiet friend. When he wasn't running drills or playing a game, his thoughts would drift to Marigold, wondering what she was thinking or doing if he didn't see her that day.

That Saturday afternoon, the air was crisp as Leo ran onto the field, the roar of the crowd echoing in the background. The game was important—he could feel the pressure, but there was always a part of him that felt calmer knowing that Marigold was there, watching from the stands with his parents. His mom, Adamma, sat beside Marigold, both of them bundled up against the chill of the fall air.

The game had been going well, and Leo was in the zone, darting past defenders with ease. But during a brief pause in the game, he glanced toward the stands, as he always did, and saw something unusual. Marigold looked pale, her eyes wide with fear as she accidentally brushed against the woman sitting next to her. It was the mother of one of the other players, a woman Leo had seen at nearly every game, cheering loudly for her son.

Suddenly, Marigold stood up abruptly, her face drained of color. She looked terrified.

Adamma noticed immediately and gently grabbed Marigold's hand, pulling her aside from the bleachers. The crowd's cheers and the noise of the game faded into the background as Adamma knelt down in front of her, her eyes filled with concern.

"Mary, sweetheart, what's wrong?" she asked softly.

Marigold's breath came in short, panicked gasps, and her hands trembled as she spoke. "I—I touched her. The woman. She's going to die." Her voice shook, barely a whisper. "I saw it... she's going to have a heart attack."

Adamma's eyes widened for a moment, but then she pulled Marigold close, her voice soothing and calm. "Shh, it's okay, darling. Take a deep breath."

"I have to tell her," Marigold blurted, her panic rising as she tried to pull away. "I have to warn her, I can't let her die. I have to—"

But Adamma held her firmly, shaking her head gently. "Mary, listen to me. Sometimes, there's nothing we can do. Sometimes things are meant to happen."

Marigold's face crumpled as fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "But she's a good person... Why do good people have to die?" she sobbed, her small body trembling as she clung to Adamma's arm.

Adamma's heart ached as she held Marigold closer, stroking her hair. "It's the circle of life, Mary," she whispered. "Without death, we wouldn't be able to love as deeply as we do. It's not easy, and it's not fair, but it's a part of life. Death helps us appreciate the moments we have with the people we love."

Marigold buried her face in Adamma's shoulder, her sobs muffled by the fabric of her coat. "I hate it," she whispered. "I hate seeing it."

Adamma continued to hold her, rocking her gently as the sounds of the game echoed in the distance. "I know, sweet girl. I know it's hard. But you're strong. You've always been so strong. You don't have to carry it all on your own, though. I'm here for you, always."

Marigold cried for a little while longer, and eventually, her sobs subsided. She pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her gloved hands. "I just wish I could stop it."

Adamma smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from Marigold's face. "You have a gift, Mary. It's a heavy burden sometimes, but it's also beautiful. You don't have to fight against everything. Sometimes, you just have to let nature take its course."

Marigold sniffed and nodded, her fear and sadness still palpable, but she was calmer now, steadied by Adamma's words.

Together, they walked back to their seats, Adamma keeping her close, her arm wrapped around Marigold's shoulders. As they sat down, the game continued, and Marigold's gaze drifted back to the field. Leo was still running, still darting past defenders with a fierce determination. His speed and focus were impressive, and for a moment, Marigold allowed herself to be distracted from the weight of what she had seen.

Adamma kept an eye on her, offering her quiet comfort as they watched the rest of the game unfold. Though the burden of her visions weighed heavily on her small shoulders, Adamma knew that Marigold would find her way through it—with love, with care, and with the quiet strength that had always set her apart.

Leo, glancing up from the field during a break, caught sight of Marigold again, this time sitting quietly beside his mother. His heart swelled with something he couldn't quite name. He didn't know what had happened, but seeing her there, still watching him, still by his side, made everything feel just a little bit easier.