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Learning to Fall: I was.
"Mayday-Mayday!" Terry yelled and dove off the hammock on his momma's porch, hitting me in the center of the chest with that old ratty nerf ball his dog spit on all the time. He hit the ground and rolled and ran a full lap around the hedges, down the walk and back up onto the porch. I tossed the football back at him with my left hand, throwing it wobbly.
"You don't even know what May Day is all about." I didn't either. I was just happy to see Terry and his momma happy and not crazy all the time the way they'd been for the last few months.
"Oh yeah?" Terry ran another lap with the football. "You throw like a girl."
"It means 'help', 'S.O.S.', or something like that." I told him. "And you catch like a girl."
"Mayday-Mayday!"
Terry climbed back up into the hammock and was now a surfer riding a wave all wobbly legged on the rope swing, that is, until his dad snuck up behind him and swooped him into the air and spun him upside down.
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