A summer afternoon

 

It's already past three-thirty in the afternoon. The scorching sun falls perpendicular on the cobblestones of the square, while we take refuge in the cool shade of the arcades, slumped on the benches, immersed in a thick, sticky boredom. Time moves as slowly as the flies buzzing around us.

—"Want to play a soccer match?"
—"No!"

A hardworking swallow darts swiftly past us—no doubt on its way to gather water and mud to build its nest under the eaves of the stone houses surrounding the square.

—"How about now?"
—"Still no!"

This drowsiness is likely due to the relentless midday sun.

The Harbor Kids

The harbor kids walk two kilometers from their homes to the village square just to play with us.

—"Want a rematch from yesterday?" suggests one of the harbor kids.
—"Yes!" we reply in unison.

The harbor team is led by a giant of 1.30 meters, accompanied by his second-in-command, a barrel-shaped tadpole who lisps when he speaks, with a gap between his teeth that always lets air escape.

—"If Marise is the goalie, she better not tie the goalposts to her ankles—that’s cheating!" shouts the captain.
—"I don’t do that!"

There are also two brothers with a tough appearance and freckled faces. They look identical, except for one having a bruised and defiant eye.

One carries the ball under his arm, a sign they’ve come for revenge after we let them win out of pity last time.

—"Today we're gonna thrash you again!" shouts one of the brothers as he kicks the ball.

The match begins.

The Bad Game

We could have won if our teammates had focused on playing instead of talking so much.

—"Marise, pass! The ball isn’t just yours!"
—"Well, then play by yourself!"
—"We’re not playing with you!"

With so many distractions, it’s impossible to play well. The ball always goes out of bounds or sails over the goal.

—"Enough! Someone take the ball from her!"
—"Because of you, we’re gonna lose!" they yell.

When my teammates decide not to pass me the ball and play among themselves, I have to run and steal it from them just to join in. Since I’m alone against everyone, the harbor team eventually decides to take my side.

We score a few goals, and in the end, everyone is happy.

The Afternoons in the Square

The afternoons in the square are divided into two parts: first, we play soccer until we’re exhausted; second, we argue about who won the match, shoving and fighting.

Sometimes, the debate over who scored more goals escalates into a stone-throwing battle, and the team with fewer bruises wins.

At nightfall, the square is ours again because they have to leave early to get home. And so it goes, day after day.

—"Marise! Stop playing and come help me hang the curtains."
—"Coming, Mom. I’m testing the keyboard on the new computer to see if the letter ñ works like the others."
—"And does it?"

 

                       

   —"Ñ… looks like it does!"

mvf.