Splash, splash, the rain beats against the pavement, collecting into huge puddles. There wasn’t a doubt in anyone’s mind that handball was cancelled and yet no one could resent the downpour of water and the gray sky. I can feel the cold water dripping down my face, splashing against my legs as I jump into the puddles and dance through the falling drops. The sound of the water falling from heaven fills the air accompanied by laughter and shrieks of joy.
I join my friends by the picnic tables, dogging flying balls and running kids. Somehow, not by any idea of mine, we end up trying to slide across the surfaces of the joined picnic tables, not surprisingly it doesn’t work. The screws in the table brake the slickness of the surface, and the person is as quoted, “screwed” when he tries to slide across the tables. Inspired by this, we head up the stairs to the art room, knowing that the rain has turned the whole landing into a giant slip and slide.
My feet slap against the wet tile as I race down the balcony, collapsing my legs, my butt hits against the slick floor and I glide over the tile, water spraying everywhere. Someone zips by me sliding on his stomach, bringing the image of a green penguin to mind. Swinging to my feet I press my self to the wall allowing others to skid by. Water sloshes against my legs and rain drips down my face as I take off across the landing again, I decide to dive into the tile, siding on my stomach, the impact of the dive sends me close to the stairs and sets the skin on my hipbones stinging.
More people join us and the balcony becomes crowded, people narrowly missing each other as they whiz by. Some people skid across on their stomachs, others on their butts, some even on their knees air guitars rocking. Someone comes close to going over the edge of the stairs; everyone screams, he catches himself and we all laugh from the adrenaline. I can feel a smile permanently plastered on my face, my cheeks stretching.
Sliding races ensue and we all hug the wall to allow a clear path. Slight apprehension fills my stomach as I run over the slick floor, knowing I could place my feet wrong and I would be sent flying. I drop back into a slide tackle, my arms in the air; my momentum ends and I roll into a crouch getting to my feet.
I glance up and see my friend take off running towards me; instinctively I press my self as close as I can to the wall. He hits the ground, his arms outstretched in front of him. I can tell he is coming straight towards me and yet I don’t think we will make contact because avoidance is the game here. My brain slows down as he tilts himself to the right, dimly I realize that this is different and he is going to hit me and there is nothing I can do to save myself. For a split second before impact I consider jumping over him. His body runs into my legs and all thoughts leave my head as my legs are sent flying backwards and for a second in time I am suspended in the air.
My right arm catches on the wall and my face and left hand smash into the slick, hard tile floor. In a way I know what has happened and yet I don’t really understand it fully in this moment. I can still hear the sick crack of my face hitting the tile. I roll over onto my back, untangling myself from the idiot, whose face is a mixture of shock and concern. My lip feels numb and swollen and my teeth ache, my forehead and hand are throbbing. I’m not sure what my face may look like, I may be smiling or I may be close to tears, honestly I can’t feel a thing, I’m still in shock.
People crowd around and different words of exclamation pour from their mouths’ asking if I am all right. A hand appears in front of my face and I swing my arm up to grab it. We fumble, both our hands’ being wet and my legs unsteady but I’m pulled to my feet. I assure everyone that I am fine and I know I’m laughing, though I can’t feel my face.
I walk over to the bench and take a seat. My friend shows me my reflection in her phone and my lip is huge, lopsided and bruised on the inside. I have a small cut on my cheek and slight discoloration along my eyebrow, but my hand is really what is stinging.
According to a witness I took the wipe out like a “man” and they are impressed. Not to have my rainy Friday spoiled by a little face-meets-floor, I continue to slide across the balcony a few more times and then I join a game of Red Rover and Tag.
In case you were wondering, or care, the idiot of a friend does not get away scot-free from his little slid tackle and is continuously harassed by multiple people over the next couple of days. I on the other hand am harassed by a massive headache and pain in my whole face but drugs help!
On Sunday morning someone walks up to me and asks how I am doing, they had seen me on Friday and they say, “first you were getting to your feet, then you were like this against the wall, next thing I saw was your face hitting the floor”.
Despite the tragic accident though, it was still one of my best Fridays ever and as the title suggests friendship is stronger than a total wipe out. Even a newly formed, only two-week long friendship, but then again I am very forgiving.
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