Carnival

From his perch on the black trampoline, Ricky watched Eduardo walk by. As usual, he went about his business with a steadfast determination. The greying dusk signaled time to collect the table umbrellas. Eduardo plucked them like bright, overgrown flowers and slung them onto his shoulder, trucking them to the storage closet.

Ricky pushed his blond mop of hair out of his eyes. "Hey, Edweirdo, how's it going?" As usual, Eduardo passed him without any recognition. His lined face stayed impassive, his eyes fixed on the ground a few feet in front of him. The taunts bubbled up in Ricky unchecked.

"Hey, Edweirdo, I think your girlfriend stopped by earlier. She asked me if I was busy tonight."

Nothing. Not even a slowing of his pace.

Ricky had never heard Eduardo talk, never managed to catch his eye. When he wasn't bouncing kids up and down on flexible yellow cords --sticky, horrible, screaming, stinky kids who whined if the didn't scream, and giggled like hyenas if they didn't whine-- when Ricky wasn't bouncing them up and down under the beaming supervision of their misguided parents, this was his one and only goal.

No matter what it took, he would get Eduardo to acknowledge him.

"Hey, Edweirdo. Nice sunset, huh?" Eduardo trudged on, one more time.

He would. He would. He would.