Page 22 of Brick Wall
When I went over the water balloon volleyball plan forthis afternoon with Sebastian, we decided to split teams by football versus volleyball players, girls versus boys, essentially. However, I underestimated how many football campers there were. There are twice as many guys than girls.
I eye Sebastian and then the campers waiting on the sand, and we come up with a silent agreement to change our initial plan. Time to get these kids up and mingling. I quickly grab a pen and some paper and pull aside eight camp counselors to hand them a number.
“All right!” I say in my biggest camp voice, while swinging my hands in front of me. “We are going to split up in groups, and no, you cannot choose. We are going to play a friendly game first. I’m going to ask you a series of questions and you will pick a court. I have counselors at each court with a number. Please be honest with your answers.” I have a few that stick with their buddies, hoping they will be on the same team. I like to confuse them first. “If you’d rather have cheese pizza, head to court one, and head to court two if you like pepperoni better.”
The kids all split up with more kids at court one. I’ll try that again. “If you think pineapple belongs on pizza, please be at court one. If you disagree, head to court two.” I hear a few giggles, but the kids split more evenly on this question.
“All right, pro pineapples: There are four options. Please go to the counselor with your preferred number choice,” I say as I point to the counselors spread out on the beach. A few counselors wave their signs in response. “Okay, if you’d rather your superpower be invisibility, head to team five. If you’d like your superpower to be the ability to fly, head to team six. If you want your superpower to be able to read minds, head to team seven. If you want your superpower to be super speed,head to team eight.”
There’s a lot of laughter and discussion as the kids split up into more groups. I do a similar exercise with the anti-pineapple group asking what their magical sidekick would be. There’s more laughter, but at the end of the exercise, we have eight different teams between four courts.
For a second there, the kids forgot about the huge bucket of water balloons scattered about, which was the goal. I need to make this activity last.
“Okay, can I have two teams volunteer?” I announce loudly through the beach, and a few people volunteer for their groups. I join one group, and I ask Sebastian to join the other team. He gives me a look, but I can’t tell if it’s amusement or annoyance because it disappears quickly.
I hand Sebastian and his group a king-sized sheet, then do the same with my team. I motion for each team to gather around their sheet with one hand holding it in place. Then, I place a water balloon in the center of my team’s sheet.
I explain to all the campers that the goal is to get the water balloon over the net by working together to lift the water balloon with the sheet.
“Ready to demonstrate?” I ask my bewildered-looking middle-schoolers. Maybe I should have explained this better. “On the count of three, we are going to lift this balloon in the air. One, two, three!” The balloon goes soaring in the air, but we didn’t angle the sheet properly so the balloon flies straight up in the air and lands back down on our sheet without it bursting open.
“Okay, everyone! You’ll have to work together to figure out how to get that balloon over the net, and the other team, you’ll have to figure out the best way to catch it. If you do, it’s thenyour turn to figure out how to get the water balloon over the net!”
“How do we win?” a football camper from Sebastian’s demo team loudly asks.
“Whatever team stays the driest,” I say while clapping my hands together. “All right, let’s play some volleyball!”
I hand my team over to another teen counselor and walk around, seeing if any team needs assistance.
There’s a lot of laughing and scheming going on, and instantly I smile. I love when teams work together for a common goal. It might explain why I’m a coach.
My eyes glance over to Sebastian, and I internally laugh at his expression. He’s focused on his team, but he’s quiet, giving the youngest members of his team full control to work out the game.
After a half hour of water balloon volleyball, the simple activity turned into a full-on tournament, with teams rotating to play each other. It wasn’t my intention, but it’s a fun turn of events.
Sebastian and his team of pro-pineapple and sonic-speed superheroes become the winner of the makeshift tournament, plus the driest kids in the bunch.
Every kid got wet, of course, but for some strange reason, Sebastian stayed completely dry. I am not sure what sorcery he’s using, but it seems unfair.
“Good game, Coach,” I goad Sebastian as we pick up the remaining water balloon scraps on the beach—the worst part about water balloons, if you ask me. The kids have moved on to the next activity, but there’s a few counselors remaining to finish cleanup.
The full water balloons are long gone, but I couldn’t helpbut stash one away under the deck. Once we are finally done picking up, Sebastian starts to wordlessly walk away, moving to a narrow path near the woods. He’s about twenty feet away, but I’ve got great aim. I take the water balloon and chuck it right at his broad back.
Sebastian turns around and grunts at me, totally realizing I’m the guilty party. He quickly turns back, but I didn’t miss the slight smirk on his lips. His shoulders are relaxed and there’s a lightness to his step. He continues walking away from me, but I don’t feel any distance between us, even if he’s pretending to be a grump.
The hot day in the sun wasn’t so bad after all.
Chapter Eleven
Sebastian
I’m sitting in the camp’s makeshift cafeteria, the all-purpose big brown building, on a rectangular cafeteria table by myself and the finished pizza. The lights above me flicker, but the other end of the room remains dark.
It’s quiet. Everyone has disappeared and I’m the lone man sitting by myself until I see two shadows appear.
“Hey, bro, thanks for meeting,” Ryan says as he sits down with two beer bottles and hands the second beer to me.
Tristan follows from behind with a small notepad and pen in one hand and a drink in the other.
