Chapter 6

Rice relaxed in the park as he waited for the museum to open, and although it looked like a fairly boring standard art museum there were sure to be interesting tangents and connections. Noticing fast movement down the park Rice saw what seemed to be a bunch of college students playing tag, and he could see where the boundaries were, noting the small colored flags and people acting as line referees, while the tag itself seemed to be on the honor system, the tagger and tagged both knew when an out was made, despite what the casual observers might think about close calls. (Never mind what they might think of adults playing kid’s games.)

Interested, Rice made his way over to converse with some one apparently associated with this latest example of human diversion but not currently active in the game. “What’s happening?” Rice inquired, his tone indicating he meant it specifically and not generally and rhetorically. The target of his inquiry informed him in a distracted aside that it was Parkour Tag, challenge matches for local bragging rights and perhaps a chance at the National team if they could get noticed by the scouts.

Rice looked about with this new information and indeed saw what had to be several of the scouts for the National team or perhaps some B-roll odd sports very late night cable filler content provider freelancers (Really, fanboys trying to make a living from their passion.) in the sparse crowd of observers made mostly of currently inactive players either waiting their turn or having finished a round.

Rice felt compelled by the action to sign up on the rotation, and to enter himself in the round robin event of two contestants enter, and the chased has to last the full time with out being tagged out. After evading tag for enough rounds, the one who has evaded capture becomes the tagger in turn, and has to tag out each of his former pursuers in rounds in turn within the time allotted.

By reason of evading Brad and his rotation of buds in the back yard, a fun game until Rice lost, and then not fun at all, (an excellent motivation for not getting caught, ) Rice excelled at the parkour version of tag. He grinned inwardly to himself, here were another group of grownups playing like children, although with an abandon and verve seldom seen even in child’s play.

He already knew the moves, although he didn’t know names for them, as they were called by this group- for Rice it was just instinctive, how to get from here to there, he no more thought about it than a monkey thought about how to move through the jungle- it didn’t think about it, it just did it, the calculations inherent in the movements.

Rice let his awareness dictate his evasions just like at home in his back yard, except with a positive excitement instead of an underlying dread, giving his movements a joyous spark that was noted by the small casual audience and the scouts.

Due to loping to school and back three miles a day Rice had the endurance to keep it up until the other contestants gave up winded, gasping bent over with hands on their knees. Rice made more use of the vertical opportunities to be found within the arena- yeah, playground- than his competitors thought to or were able to, do.

Soon Rice was known by his new street name, Squirrel Boy, and was enthusiastically hauled into the air by his weary conquests, who gave a halfhearted attempt to toss him aloft before allowing him to slip back down to his feet. It was the thought that counted, and they were gracious losers every one, although Rice was a little young for the crown of parkour tag local champ. He savored the irony of any one thinking so with an encompassing welling of amusement.

However, champ though he was, he was too young to interest the scouts, so the losers who had played their hearts out against the superior skills of Rice came to the notice of the scouts in a second hand sort of way, as being energetic players and available for recruitment of what ever sort. Rice was able to fade back and away as the tiny excited crowd congratulated the losers (each other) on an amazing display of tag technique.

Thinking he had gotten away unnoticed, Rice was startled by a voice. “You have it in you to be an awesome parkour.” How had she gotten so close with him unaware? To gain time he replied “excuse me?” She continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “But what really impressed me, Squirrel Boy is how you brought out the best in the others. They were playing there little hearts out! Would you like to train with us? It isn’t directly competitive, true parkour is more collaborative, like skating and surfing and half-pipe. That isn’t to say you wouldn’t bring out the best in our little group if you train with us, as we are competitive, just not directly or antagonistically.”

Rice considered her, and got a good feeling for the compact and powerful looking girl who only looked to be a few years older. Her eyes were almost a physical pressure as she continued, trying to close the deal with more enticements, really running a hard sell which was putting Rice a bit off but he didn’t detect any ill intent or exploitation in her motives. She just really wanted him to motivate her team. He accepted her pitch when she added meals and gym access.