Out There

My world of clear lines and crisp whites disappeared, and I lay in the shadows, itching on a pile of decaying leaves.

This week I’m sharing a story about Tennis, inspired by The Odyssey and the germanic Urge to capitalize Nouns.

Out There 

O Muse, allow me to tell my tale of how I came to know nature. 

Life began in a plastic tube, which sounds worse than it was. I lived there as an identical triplet with my brothers, who were as bouncy and fluorescent as me. We were a package deal, bought by a Ralph Lauren family who had three sons with Ivy League ambitions and adderall prescriptions. 

When the non-identical brothers wanted to unwind, they’d smack us around. Yale liked backhand, Harvard had a mean serve and Duke tried his best. They didn’t know the difference between me and my brothers, but I told myself it was okay. I didn’t need to be special as long as I could belong. 

Then one day, Yale hit me Out There, where the court meets the woods. My world of clear lines and crisp whites disappeared, and I lay in the shadows, itching on a pile of decaying leaves. 

I waited for them to stop hitting. I waited until morning. I waited all summer, but nobody saved me. I didn’t belong Out There, and I wasn’t here to make friends. Besides, I didn’t even know anyone’s name. You can’t go up to a random tree and say “Hey, Tree!” any more than you can go up to a random woman and say, “Hey, Woman!” I learned this the hard way, and it got awkward between me and everyone Out There, which I heard also has a specific name. Nobody would tell it to me, though, because I couldn’t ask, and I couldn’t ask because I didn’t speak the language. But when I heard the trees rustle and creak, it sounded like they were laughing at me. 

In my solitude, I thought up new ways to escape. With help from that capricious God of Wind, I rolled myself closer to the fence to get anyone’s attention. I washed in Summer Rain and Morning Dew, fearing that if I lost my color, I wouldn’t belong. Still, no one saved me. 

In the woods, I was forgotten, until a trio of pick-me flowers whispered in honeyed voices. “We’re not from around here, either,” they said, drawing me in with their radiance and sweet aroma. I was enchanted and when I finally realized I’d fallen under their spell, I was already wrapped in roots and hidden behind foliage. They had me in their grip until Father Winter arrived and killed them off. But by then, no one was using the courts, and soon, the brothers stopped coming home at all. 

I was so overcome that I rolled myself into the river. But the river carried me. I floated away from the pick-mes and the court. I passed houses with barns and forests that could devour the forest I’d known. If I ever saw my brothers again, I vowed to at least have some good stories. 

I moved with the current, until I found a bend that suited me. I slept in the sweetgrass. I met Poppy and learned there were kind flowers, too. She introduced me to Fern and Bumblebee, and I began to understand the Oaks as they told old stories of the wood in deep, slow voices. 

I could have stayed forever, but life changed. He came running toward me on four legs. He saw me and held me, even when his family tried to separate us. He brought me home and they came to accept me, too. His family is not the Ralph Lauren kind. They do not have a tennis court or even one garage. But Big Wooly and I have our corner. That’s where I met Squeaky Pig and Kong and Tug Rope. We all play together but only I go Out There with Big Wooly. Every day I survey the air and lead him through the woodlands, and every night, he carries me home. 

O Muse, I once thought I could only belong as a pawn in someone else's game. Now I know Nature is where I find the deepest love.