East of Eden Street.
There was a time during summer vacation that my elder brother took me to
the neighborhood tennis courts. He would take me cause I could play well,
and he wanted someone to rally with if his friend’s car failed or went on
vacation –which was often. I didn’t mind going every day, some days were
worse than others when my brother really went at it.
The courts themselves on one particular day were drying after a nasty little
rainstorm that had passed through. Worm carcasses were scattered on the
side of the net facing west towards Eden Street, which was basically the
dividing line between two neighborhoods with the courts on the more run
down side of the road.
Yet despite the courts being east of Eden Street, they were in good condition; the nets were taut and the courts clean. I wouldn’t’ve thought the city
would spend money on that, but I guess I was wrong.
My brother and I came onto court and dropped out stuff at the post. The
wind was soft and it was a cloudy day, a great day for playing.
never seen her on these courts before, but her serve was amazing. It could
probably put my brother to shame.
The girl had a long blond ponytail and a pale pink tennis dress and white
shoes. Her skin was fair and long, slender limbs. Her face was hidden from
and effortless.
down. “Up or down?”
“Down. Do you know who that is?”
My brother glanced down at the butt cap and declared. “It’s up; I’ll take
“Mike?”
“Which side did you want?”