Just A Game

It was just a game, of course. They were from the upscale part of town, and we were from the wrong side of the tracks. Literally. North of the rail line was toxic. The groundwater kept us small and sick. If you didn’t grow up here, then the air would burn your lungs.

Rumor had it that the game started with a besmirched reputation. Apparently the only way the kid could regain his honor was to step over the rail line and spend as much time in the toxic dump as he could stand. Now, we had new players step up so frequently that the boys and I would sit on the roof of the old station to watch. None of those soft, pampered kids ever lasted more than a night, if that.

“Hey!” Jax clambered onto the roof, late as usual. “What’d I miss?”

“Not much,” I assured him. “That one stepped over the rails fifteen minutes ago.”

And he wasn’t doing so hot. He’d touched something that didn’t agree with his perfect skin and was on his way to scratching his arm raw. Jax had a grin that would make the devil green with envy.

“Excellent. Lookie what I got.”

He held up a rubber glove filled with water. We all leaned in, curiosity getting the better of us. Standing up, Jax took aim and lobbed the glove at the kid on the ground. Someone shouted a warning. The kid looked up from scratching his arm just in time to get smacked in the face. The end of the glove burst open, covering his head in toxic water.

Those of us on the roof laughed, expecting his lily white skin to break out in a rash at any minute. When I saw steam rising, I knew we’d been dead wrong.

An shriek rose in the air, one that didn’t sound like it could possibly be human even as I witnessed the kid on the ground open his mouth and clutch at his face. The face that was turning redder and redder. I covered my mouth as the stench reached the roof.

The kid’s skin was melting.