Letters For Youth

trampolines.

One o'clock

'I thought you said we were leaving at 1,' I said. I was beginning to think coming here was a bad idea.

'No, we're going to leave at 4,' Karen said, with not much care about my opinion. Why would she? She was the one that got me here, the one that paid for my entrance ticket, the section leader and all of that. As fucking annoying as that was, she didn't have to listen to me.

We planned this trip for a while; and I thought going in I would be able to relax a little if I was not totally engrossing myself in high energy. 'Bonding' between the Euphonium section would be better than staying at home.  

How naïve could I have been. The trampoline 'park' was little more than a warehouse partially full of trampolines. Lingering smell of mold in between wafts of concrete. It was so difficult to get in, too. The console was confusing to use. Eric, the other person in our trio that actually showed, smashed his meaty fingers into the tiny icons on the display multiple times. Karen moved between that screen and the main counter to talk to an employee about issues. By the time we figured out how to navigate, we had an even harder time trying to pay separately, and when we figured out how to a set a reservation to get in, there was still a wait list to go through.

It was frustrating to watch, as other people just passed us flung themselves off a cushioned cliff the moment they got in. I imagined the little ones, the ones that were having a birthday party with the blue-space tablecloth and little party hats and custom plastic plates and cups, were having a blast that day while I watched from a distance like a father with a restraining order. Then, miraculously, we were allowed in! Finally, I can throw myself off like everyone else. Even if the action was asinine. At first, I didn't care that I was wearing the dirtiest white converse and well fitted khakis. However, after about thirty minutes, it felt so meaningless bouncing up and down for an overpriced fee. I wasn't weightless. Parts of my body that made contact with the trampoline tarp strained and the areas from my ankles down especially felt heavy as the hour drew on longer.

I managed to spend all the splendor of the park within less than an hour. It became a trial to find something to do, which was off-putting, since there wasn't anyone there besides my group that was my age who could figure out something for me to do. 'One more dodge ball trampoline game,' I told myself, pained by the fact I was playing dodge ball with random kids half my age. 'One more hop.' I soon found myself exhausted from pretending to have fun. I was tired of throwing myself around on a canvas like a rag doll for no apparent reason. I wanted out. I became mad at Karen, my only ride from this place, and the other people in how meaningless this all was. In this thought of false superiority, like an angry pigeon, I flew out of the building.

The air was so dry and burnt I thought I was in an oven. I looked at the cars that passed, and thought how much I wanted to be home. The floating notes of the engine hums and smell of smog beyond waft in my general direction. 'How would I get home?' I reached for my phone, a small iPhone 4 in its royal purple case. I knew my father was home, probably doing his best to keep himself entertained. 'No, I can't call him.' He wasn't too fond of doing things out of his way, and I hadn't told him I left for Mansfield this morning – he probably thought I was going somewhere near home. Minor inconveniences annoyed him, and I knew that this phone call would make him confused, angry, and it would've have taken him forever to track me down. No, he wasn't an option. I looked at the purple brick in my hand, and some melodious plot dawned on me.

I was smart; I was without a car, yes, but I still had my iPhone. Which meant that I had internet access, which meant a map. With a map, I can find to the fastest point from this Urban Air located in Mansfield to back home, in Grand Prairie. My genius plan would have me walk 13 miles on foot, and a total calculated time of four hours to trek. 'Easy.' See, I thought this through, and, sure, it was in the middle of summer, and yes, during the hottest hours of the day, but I could do it. My legs were longer than most – I could cover the distance in half the time and in half the effort. So, I took my first steps into the pavement of the highway sidewalk, and the scorching heat at first only burned the back of my neck as I trudged along. The first ten minutes weren't so bad; I observed the cars passing by, with wonderment of what the drivers thought of me; all the times I would see pedestrians crossing on foot and paid no attention to them – how flipped things have become. The first ten minutes, however, suddenly turned for the worst, after barely having passed the entrance into the bridge after 20 minutes.