Long Islanders

16 - Slingshot

Jimmy sat back as he examined the flexible rubber hose he and John were tinkering with in the Brandts' garage. The door was open, allowing in a breeze that gently ruffled their hair as they worked and although not a cool wind, the breeze did make them feel cooler, somehow.

John kept glancing up at his friend, being uncharacteristically quiet. Jimmy had just told him the news: he was going to Falcon Summit School in the fall, up in Connecticut.

Jimmy had just been told himself, and after a heated argument with his parents that had ended with his father telling him "you're going and that's that," he had fled outside, where he had run into John. The two of them had wound up in the Brandts' garage, where they had found the hose and had slit it down the middle with a razor blade, revealing the pale, hollow insides.

"It stretches," John observed, dusting his hands off on his jeans. He looked up at Jimmy. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Jimmy felt himself starting to grin, despite himself. "Yep."

Throwing the hose over his shoulder, Jimmy led the way to the woods, jumping the Rossi's fence with John following him. They walked for a while before stopping in a particularly rocky area and surveying the spot critically.

"I think this is a perfect spot to test it," John declared. "Plenty of space and ammunition."

"Agreed," Jimmy said. "Well, let's see if this works!"

The two boys searched around the space until they found a tree with a fork in its branches relatively close to the ground. Since they were near the back fence of one of their neighbors, Jimmy climbed up onto the fence and into the tree.

For a moment, he just sat there. He could hear a couple birds, and the wind rustled the leaves in front of him, blocking him from John's view. It was peaceful, sitting in the tree, and he could almost forget that he would have to leave Stanwich come September.

Don't think about that. Think about the hose and your idea.

"Toss me the hose," he called down to John, stepping back down onto the fence. "Let's see if this works."

John handed him up the hose and Jimmy moved back into the tree, fastening the hose between the two branches of the fork. John watched eagerly as Jimmy ensured everything was secure before giving him a thumbs up.

"Move," John demanded, climbing up onto the fence as Jimmy stepped back into the tree, carefully balancing himself among the branches. The two boys surveyed Jimmy's work proudly and excitedly for a moment before John jumped down, scooping up a rock. Tossing it up and down in his hand, he grinned at Jimmy. "Ready to test it out?"

Jimmy grinned back and nodded. "Let's try it!"

John hopped back up and handed Jimmy the rock. He placed the rock in the center of the hose, positioning it in the giant slingshot they had constructed. As John excitedly looked on, Jimmy pulled the hose back, fingers pinched around the rock, and released it.

The rock flew high through the air and out of sight.

John cheered. "Awesome! Let me try it!" Grabbing another rock, John positioned it in the hose, pulled back, and launched a rock that traced a similar flight path to Jimmy's, speeding through the air at a pretty impressive altitude.

Watching the rock soar out of sight, John turned to Jimmy. "There was more of this hose, right?"

Jimmy nodded, having a feeling he knew where John was going with this.

"I'll get Andrew, you get Nathaniel and more hose," John instructed, jumping off the fence as Jimmy started out from the tree. "Meet you back here."

Jimmy jumped to the ground and took off after John, heading back to his garage. On getting there, he grabbed the excess rubber hose, cutting it open with the razor blade, and then ran into the Angelos' front year, jumping over the old pieces of a walking stick on the edge of his own yard, discarded there after being broken only the day before.

The pieces had belonged to a walking stick Jimmy had made himself, a perfect specimen up until John had snapped the finished version over his knee. That was just John for you. If you made something that was better than his, he would look at it, ask to see it, and then, once you'd handed it over, he would break it in some way. With walking sticks, that was over his knee. And Jimmy and the rest of the gang just went with it. Yes, they got a little angry, but they knew it was coming. In a strange way, it was a compliment. If John broke whatever you'd made, it meant it was pretty darn good in order to make him jealous.

After knocking on the Angelos' door, he asked Nathaniel's sister where he was and then waited impatiently as she called her brother. When Nathaniel came to the door, Jimmy showed him the hose. "We're building slingshots. Come on!"

With Nathaniel in tow, Jimmy raced back to the Rossi's, jumping over their fence a moment after Andrew and John did, and they headed back to where their slingshot was set up.

"Jimmy mentioned slingshots," Nathaniel said. "What's going on?"

Jimmy held up the rubber hose as John launched into an explanation. "Using a piece of this hose, Jimmy and I were able to create a pretty decent slingshot. We'll make another one, and then have slingshot wars with the rocks for ammo."

Andrew looked up at the one in the tree. "Aren't we a little close to Mr. Smith's house to be shooting rocks? After the whole Jimmy-threw-firecrackers-on-his-chest thing, I feel like he wouldn't be too happy if we did something to his yard or house."

The other three all nodded, seeing his point. "You're right," John said. "We'll relocate ours. Here, go set yours up. Jimmy, give them the hose."

After handing the spare hose to Andrew and Nathaniel, Jimmy took the hose out of the tree while John found a new spot, this one much closer to the ground and therefore easier to access. They fastened their hose into place as the other two finished setting up theirs.

"Ready!" Andrew shouted over to them.

"Ready!" John shouted back.

"Smaller rocks!" Jimmy clarified. "And maybe try not to hit anyone, guys. These will pack a wallop."

"I don't doubt it," Andrew commented. "Well, let's do this!"

After twenty minutes of assembling rocks and preparing for the fight, John shouted, "You's guys ready?"

"Ready!" Andrew shouted back as Jimmy slid a rock into the hose.

And the fight began.

Rocks flew through the air both ways as the boys fired and reloaded, ducking and dodging, yelping when a stone made contact. The fight didn't last long before their common sense kicked back in and Jimmy shouted for a cease fire.

Even so, all four of them were covered in marks and bruises.

As Jimmy dismantled the slingshots and slung the hoses over his shoulder, he contemplated the wisdom of their actions. Probably not the best game they could have played – but they had played worse before.

Plenty worse.

Jimmy shook his head as he placed the hose back in the garage. The chaos of the afternoon had helped him to calm down somewhat. Good friends and flying rocks would do that to you.

Stepping inside, Jimmy sniffed appreciatively. It was Sunday, which meant spaghetti and meatballs. And his mother made the best spaghetti and meatballs in the world. Jimmy would get annoyed whenever the meatballs were disrespected; for example, when Jane would mash hers up and stir it into her sauce. "What are you doing?" Jimmy would wail. Jane would always retort that she liked it that way. And there wasn't really anything Jimmy could do about it.

But still, it bothered him deeply.

Like the thought of going to Falcon Summit in the fall.