When I walked up to Tommy’s house on Saturday morning his
    little brother, Ryan, answered the door.  
            “Hey look,” Ryan said.  “I’m as tall as Chris.”
            “Just ignore him, Chris.” Tommy grabbed a sweatshirt and came
    outside.
            I had to ignore Ryan. I’d look like an idiot if I denied it. I was
    starting high school next year and I looked like a skinny fifth grader. It
    stunk.
            Being too small wouldn’t be so bad if I was a total nerd. But I
    loved sports.  Weight and height didn’t matter much when I started  
    football. I played wide receiver – if you threw me the ball I’d score.
            But now, I was way shorter and lighter than anyone I went up
    against.  During tryouts for the high school team, the coach watched
    me play for awhile and then shook his head.
            Now, Tommy and I were headed for the high school. I wanted
    check the tryout results early, before anyone else was around.  
           Molly was with us.  Molly’s a mutt, with long black fur on her back
    and a white chest. She pulled me toward the high school like a
    miniature sled dog, tail wagging full speed.
            We walked through the empty school grounds and entered the
    gym. Tommy’s name was on the team list, bold and black. My name
    wasn’t. Why did God make me so fast, so competitive, and too small?
            “Sorry, Chris,” Tommy said.
            The janitor opened one of the doors. Wind blew into the hallway.  
    “Hey, no dogs in the school building!”  he said.  
            Molly perked up her ears at him and strained against the leash.
            “Okay,” I said.
            Molly’s toe nails skidded on the slick gym floor as we left. Tommy
    kept on glancing over at me.  
            I shrugged. “Okay,” I said. “So I don’t play football. I’ll find another
    sport.” Small problem here.  There was no other sport like football. I
    can’t explain it. I feel like I’m me, being all of me, when I play.
            When we got outside, Molly started prancing.  Her eyes and ears
    focused on the Frisbee in my hand. I had thought we’d check the
    results and then throw the Frisbee behind the school. I didn’t feel like
    throwing the Frisbee now.
            “Here.” I handed the Frisbee to Tommy and unclipped Molly’s
    leash from her choke. “Why don’t you go first.”
            Tommy threw the Frisbee high. He knew Molly. She’s small, but
    like me she plays with her heart. She jumped about six feet into the air
    and caught that Frisbee smoothly. She ran back to Tommy for another
    throw.  The wind would gust and blow the Frisbee, but no matter
    where the wind pushed it, Molly was there, snatching it.
            “Should we talk to the coach?” Tommy asked.  He handed me the
    Frisbee.
            I threw the Frisbee hard; it went high, flipped sideways, and flew
    into the narrow space between the gym and the main school building.
            Molly bounded in after it.
            “Talking to the coach wouldn’t help. I saw him shaking his head at
    me during tryouts.”
            “But I’ve played with you,” Tommy said.  “I can tell him how good
    you are.”
            I crossed my arms and waited for Molly. “I’ll think about it,” I said.
            The wind carried a weird sound to us, like an eerie moan.
            “What is that?” Tommy asked. The sound came from the gap
    between the two buildings.
            “Where’s Molly?” I asked.
            We ran to the gap. I remember sneaking in there when I was little.  
    There’s mostly dirt and some dried out sticker grass.  At first I couldn’t
    see all the way to the back, but that’s where the sound was coming
    from.
            When my eyes adjusted I saw her. The horrible sound was
    coming from Molly. She was all the way at the back of the narrow
    space, about ten feet in.  Her choke chain had caught on a piece of
    rebar sticking out of the building. She hung from her choke chain. The
    Frisbee rested a few inches above her, on another piece of rebar.  
            Stupid, stupid.  I hadn’t taken the choke off when I unleashed her.
            Molly’s whimpers grew faint. There were long pauses with no
    sound.
            “Get some help!” I yelled at Tommy.
            I heard him yell, “Hey we need some help here!”  I tried squeezing
    in between the buildings.
            I used to be able to get in there. I took off my sweatshirt and tried
    again.
            “Hey kid, get out of there.”  The janitor, a big guy, grabbed my
    arm and pulled me back out like I was nothing.
            “It’s my dog!” I yelled at him. “She’s choking!”
            He held on to my arm and peered into the dim space between the
    buildings. “You sure you can fit?”
            “Yes,” I said. “Please let me try!”
            He nodded and let go of me.  I squeezed in sideways.  Concrete
    scraped my chest, but I could do it.  I could get in there.
            “I’m coming Molly,” I said. But I don’t know if she heard me. Her
    head was forced up by the chain and her eyes were wide and wild.  
    She took what seemed to be a short breath and then all I could hear
    was my own breathing.
            It took forever to sidle down to her. Finally I reached with my left
    hand and lifted her as I scooted under her. Her body was limp. I
    reached up and pulled the choke ring off the rebar. Molly wasn’t
    breathing.
            “How is she?” Tommy asked.
            I dug my fingers around her neck. I couldn’t feel the collar. Just a
    deep dent in her skin. I pushed in with my fingers and got the tip of
    one finger under a link and pulled. The whole choke loosened and I
    jerked it up, over her head.  She took a shuddering gasp, silence, and
    then another gasp. She shook her head and pressed her paws
    against me.
            I felt tears in my eyes, but I didn’t care. “Good girl Molly. Let’s get
    out of here.”
            I started sidling out toward Tommy. Molly whined. Her eyes were
    on the Frisbee. She struggled to get to it. I moved her to my right arm,
    reached up with my left hand and grabbed the Frisbee.
            The concrete scraped me more coming out than I remembered
    going in. I pushed Molly up onto my shoulder so we could fit. When
    we finally squeezed out, Tommy and the janitor were both grinning.
            “That was a tight fit,” the janitor said. He gave Molly a pat and
    then walked back into the school.
            Everything was quiet for a moment except the sound of the wind
    in the trees. Then Molly licked my face and jumped out of my arms.  
    She sat in front of me, her eyes and ears on the Frisbee in my hands.
    It was like nothing had happened.
            I bent over and snapped the leash onto her leather collar.
            “No more Frisbee today,” I told her.
            We started walking away.
            “Lucky you could fit,” Tommy said.
            I looked back at the dark narrow space. “Yeah,” I said. “It’s
    something to think about.”  


    THE END

    Copyright (c) Lois Brandt. All Rights Reserved.
Too Small

by Lois Brandt