I was sitting on a bench at the ballpark, rocking it back and forth. When Big Jam cracked the ball, I tried to get up but the bench tipped over forwards and I fell backwards.
The sun turned into sequins.
When I woke up, I was thirty-four years old. I couldn’t remember who I was or who my family was or where I was. I learned how to talk and walk again. I learned my alphabet again.
Big Jam visited me in the hospital. He was an old man now. He autographed a ball for me and closed my fingers around it. He hugged me and cried. I cried. Then I dropped the ball.
I can see color with my right eye, but only black and white with my other eye.
My mom’s trying to get more money for me from the Star City Recreation Board. $20,000 isn’t a lot of money.
Every day, I lie down in my wagon and my mom pulls me to the pharmacy. People take pictures and cry.
I want to be an angel.
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