Read The Birth of Super Crip for Free Online Page B

Instead,
the stiff-arm sent his brother to the ground. Red barely felt the
wave receding. He didn’t care. He just kept running.
     
    Twenty yards from the end zone, Scott came storming
back more determined than ever to tackle his brother. This time he
grabbed his arm when Red went to shove him off, but he was still
pushed backwards. Red almost lost his balance from his brother’s
grab but managed to stay on his feet. Trying to regain his
momentum, Scott felt something knock his feet out from under him as
he saw Red look back.
     
    “Yeah!” Red exulted as he reached the area all the
neighborhood kids knew as the end zone. He spiked the ball and
threw his arms up in victory. “Yeah-ha-hah! Touchdown, baby!!”
     
    Scott sat on the ground for a moment watching his
brother dance around. He resisted his teenaged instincts to cry
foul, knowing his brother didn’t get many opportunities to claim
victory. But he knew there was something more than ego telling him
that the touchdown run wasn’t just different because Red had been
able to fend him off. His brother’s attempt to do the Ickey Shuffle
actually made him laugh out loud. Getting off the ground, he slowly
walked over to pick up the ball, which had rolled about ten yards
away after Red had spiked it.
     
    He waited for Red to finally end the celebration, and
tossed him the ball. “I thought you might throw yourself a parade,”
Scott said.
     
    Red caught the ball with ease. “I was thinking about
it,” he said.
     
    “You waited so long to use that dance the guy who
invented it doesn’t even play this year. I think he got hurt or
something.”
     
    “Whatever, dude. Touchdown!”
     
    They both laughed. Red threw the ball back to him,
focusing on the ball more than he ever did when they would have a
catch.
     
    Scott noticed that the ball reached him with a little
more force than usual. He put a little more into his next throw and
watched Red catch it with no problem.
     
    “Nice,” Scott commented.
     
    Red nodded. He knew it was there. The wave was
bobbing again. No burst. No recession. He didn’t see stars or feel
light-headed. It was just there. His to control. A sense of
euphoria swept through him.
     
    His next toss was a little stronger. Just focusing on
the ball pushed it into his brother’s hands. The same method eased
it back into his own hands on the return throw.
     
    He threw the ball back even harder. Scott matched his
effort.
     
    He can tell, Red thought. He knows I can’t throw it
this hard on my own.
     
    Red’s catching ability baffled both of them. He
caught it again, watching the ball into his hands as their father
had always taught them but having it work like never before. He
actually felt the need to resist throwing the ball as hard as he
could. As he watched the ball into his hands again, he felt as
though he was grabbing it before his hands ever felt the
hard-spongy material of the ball. On the next toss from Scott, he
realized what he was doing. He could slow the ball, almost
imperceptibly, as it reached his hands. He was pushing against it
just enough to slow the ball’s flight, making it easy to catch.
     
    “I’m getting nervous,” Scott joked. “You’re not even
using your body to catch it. All hands.”
     
    Red just laughed.
     
    Scott started running toward the house after his
throw. “I’m gonna grab the Duke,” he said.
     
    “I always have trouble with that one,” Red said. He
didn’t bother adding that he could never grip the leather ball
enough to throw it, since his brother was practically
sprinting.
     
    After watching Scott go into their back door, Red
looked around at the open field. He squeezed the Nerf ball with
both of his hands. As the muscles in his hands and forearms worked
on the ball, he had a confidence, a strength, a feeling of power
he’d never known. Looking for a target, he decided that the trees
marking the limit of their football field were too close. Windows
on the houses in front of