Pink Power Ranger

            I walk in and I smell vinegar. Before I even shut the door, I can picture Debbie over the stove, her brick red hair frizzing and a wash-cloth folded over her shoulder. “HOT WINGS!!!” I thought to myself. They weren’t just any hot wings; they were her famous homeade chicken wings. As I’m putting down my backpack I pull out my A+ Spelling test to show off to Debbie, although I knew I would need to wait till she was done cooking. I had come to be pretty close to Debbie more everyday, but I was still hesitant around the other kids. After I get settled, my mind begins to wonder. I go over to the striped leaf rug in the middle of the kitchen, and imagine that I am suddenly putting on an acrobat show in the circus in front of thousands of people. The previous day, I was Shirley Temple, tap dancing on stage. And tomorrow I would be an opera singer belching highest scales in soprano.

            “Marco!”

            “Polo” replied all of us, except Brandon or Marco. Summer was only beginning, yet its already felt like I’ve done a great amount of things. Going to Debbie’s everyday was the highlight of my summer, despite the trips to Silver Dollar City and Smoky Mountains. Swimming with my newly called “friends” became a part of my daily routine, in a way.  While I was underwater thinking about my life here the past few weeks, I guess Brandon had gotten a hold of Stone’s ankle, explaining the uproar happening above the water.

“Oh come on! I’m always it!” complained Stone. He had never really been fond of this classic game, ergo his sore loser attitude.

But before we could go any further in this, the cannon was shot. “Come and get it!”

It was like everything was in slow motion. One by one we all leaped out of the pool, clumsily, as if it was the Matrix. Water was splashing everywhere, the ladder becoming unsteady; along with all of us kids acting like hooligans. Of course we have to dry off before we even think about entering the house, so we are fighting over the two dry towels on the back porch. After what seemed like forever, I was in my happy place. I was eating that chicken like I hadn’t eaten in ten years. The kick of that spicy, tasty chicken was the sweet bliss that put me in my heaven. It was Debbie’s famous chicken wings.

The trampoline was squeaking and screeching as we all jump on it. We know we aren’t supposed to be all jumping at one time, but we do it anyway. I take one big jump then land on my bottom and sit to catch my breath; everyone followed my lead.

We start talking about whether to play Power Rangers or Teen Titans. I, personally, favored Teen Titans better, since I never got to be the pink Power Ranger.

“All in favor for Teen Titans, say ‘I’,” says Stone. Of course, I raise my hand and say “I”, along with Stone. There has always been just the four of us, Brandon, Stone, Shyenne, and I, so I never understood why we voted. It was always two against two.

“And all in favor for Power Rangers?” Brandon and Shyenne raise their right hand. I see Debbie waving her hand through the blinds in the slightly cracked window (a crack I’m pretty sure we put their playing kickball), signaling that it was time to eat.

“Hey guys, lunch is ready,” I yelled, getting up to jump off the trampoline. As I have one foot on the edge, I hear more screeching, and a big scream from Shyenne. I feel a sudden force of wind brush past me.

Next thing I know, I see Shyenne laying on the ground, sort of whimpering, but not crying. Shyenne never cried.

“Shyenne! Are you ok?!” I jump off quick and go help her.

Still moaning she says,”My arm…”

“This one?” I lift her limb right arm off the ground and let it dangle in my hand; I didn’t want to grab it forcefully and make it worse. She whines louder and longer, which is my signal that it was indeed that arm. Without realizing it, I quickly drop it to the ground.

That was the day Shyenne broke her right arm. And that was the day I didn’t eat the hot wings Debbie made for lunch.

“19-Mississippi…20-Mississippi! Ready or not, here I come!” My heart is beating fast and I feel adrenaline running through my body. My hiding spot was classic, and it was the only place I ever hid by myself--sometimes we played in partners, you know, to mix it up a little. The A/C unit was right next to the oak tree that Brandon was counting at, which gave me the best chance at the first one not “it”. I peek around the corner, to see where Brandon had ran off too. He often liked to hide somewhere when he was it, to make people think we was gone so he could run and tag them. Not sure if this was his strategy, I go for it anyway. Running and running to reach that tree, I look behind me to see if anyones there. Still looking behind me as I’m racing, I unexpectedly bump right into Debbie. She’s standing there, trying to look fierce and scary, but starts smiling. “The wings are ready sweetie, go get everybody.”