Shark
Attack
by
Jimmy
“I hate this game” Bill complains loudly to everyone that
could hear.
“Everyone loves my
games!” Chase’s indignation causes a ripple of laughter to hit the gathered
swim team. “Now get in the water, it’s time to play.”
Bill looks nervous as he slowly lowers his slim body into
the pool. Dressed in only the standard Midtown swimsuit, Bill disappears into
the water, swimming neatly underwater never surfacing until he reaches the
center of the pool. Surfacing, Bill takes in a deep breath, hanging in the
center of the schools swimming pool his legs working to keep him above the
water line. Blinking hurriedly he looks around the pool as the boys fan out
each in their designated position.
This game is a recent entry. It’s called Shark Attack.
The game is supposed to help his team keep up in the pool not going below their
best time. The teammate that performed the worst was Bill. Bill is one of the
smallest swimmers on the swim team, which makes him usually one of the fastest.
Recently though, his time has been getting worse and now Bill is going to
suffer for it.
“On my whistle” Chase says, a hungry look in his blue
eyes as he meets Bill’s watery gaze. The young lad gulps as the whistle goes
off in Chase’s mouth, the plastic piece shooting out of his mouth as he dives.
Chase hears similar splashes from Aldo, Leroy and Shane.
Once in the water Chase is torpedoing towards Bill, who
must count to ten before trying to escape the sharks. If caught, each shark
will “bite” the victim, but the bites are always low blows. Tentative, targeted
blows to the groin. Every shark getting a turn turning into a shark frenzy. The
game lasts until every shark has had their turn, some can take more than one
but every shark must “bite” for the game to be over. Chase itches to get there
first, he wants to pound Bill’s little walnut scrotum in with a fist. He plans
on surfacing Bill’s body to get the perfect swing in. Deliciously he imagines
Bill’s shudder, the tremor and the feel of his rasinetes under his knuckles.
