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I am become so sensitive to sounds. Why you so angry with each other? Coach yells. We’ve been in each other’s lives for a long time, one mother says to the other. It’s a family feud; older brother of X pushed Y’s older brother down the stairs. Y’s mother has her story. Is her boyfriend getting mad? He’s close to the dug-out now, blue-tooth in his right ear. Could be play-by-play. And Cameron, poor boy, always mad about something. (Dad’s eyes blood-shot, wide.) The high school team was a disaster; so glad the season’s over. Only team not in the play-offs. They’d start to lose and THEN they’d put the sophomores in. The juniors should’ve had to deal. He’s a difficult boy; I don’t mind if he gets yelled at. So long as it’s your husband doing it. Maybe shame will work. Was that your relative who left us a note about our empty house? Small world, eh? Can’t rent until October. Yeah, everybody does it, but when you’re a cop. . . You come to practice and you work! I want you to shut your mouth! And you. We’re going to play like a TEAM! Girlfriend of Cameron’s dad gets the call her son’s just back from Afghanistan, hasn’t seen him in two years. Still in Washington State, but at least he’s ok, not like the Marine on the crashed copter. She couldn’t adopt–her past, you know.
–21 April 2011