I wrote this for Chuck Wendig's Flash Fiction Challenge. I hope you like it!
by A.R. Williams
photo by dhannte
Alejandro clutched the tiny flag that the woman at the desk had given him, bundled up in his fist. The overly bright lights in the room cast a harsh glare against the windows, making it hard to see out. He perched on his toes, elbows digging into the grate of the A.C. unit, face pressed against the glass and stared both at the road that led to the building and the twinkling blackness of the night sky. They hadn’t started yet, there was still time.
Alejandro nibbled on his lip and tightened his fingers about the flag. The officer at the door, ordered everyone to rise and form a line. Alejandro’s father stood, pulled him away from the window and into the group of adults. Trapped between them as they shuffled forward, Alejandro marched out into the humid night.
Headlights shone over the horizon, white hot like the stars in the sky. The bus pulled up just as everyone finished exiting the building. It stopped in front of them, engine growling, brakes screeching. The doors hissed open.
“Let’s go people, get on board,” the officer yelled.
They bunched together and slowly began to board, one by one. Alejandro and his father were near the front of the line. Climbing the steps, Alejandro raced to the back, weaving between people. The radio blared in the background.
“Yankees versus Rangers, bottom of the ninth, and what could possibly be the last batter of the game making his way to the plate.”
Alejandro jumped into the back seat and stared back at the building. The seat moved as his father sat down beside him. Was he too late? Did he miss it?
A crack split the air like the sound of wood breaking.
“It’s a home run. He’s going home! Rangers win! Rangers win.”
The bus lurched forward, forcing Alejandro back against the seat. He kept his eyes glued to the sky, waiting patiently. Just as he was about to turn away, it happened. Fireworks burst into the air: Red, White, and Blue. Alejandro smiled and unfurled his flag, waving it from side to side.
“Papa,” he said, pointing.
His father looked and nodded, then turned back around.
(C) copyright 2011. A.R. Williams