There’s Davey.

In a clearing.

In the woods.

He lies on his back looking up, doing nothing.

Doing nothing

is the biggest NOT SUPPOSED TO of all.

But do it he does.

The clouds concoct a shape show just for him, a parade

of

prehistoric

creatures

and

planets

and

pirates

and

a great many more adventures from his imagination box. SUDDENLY

the underbrush rustles.

Davey sits up

looks up

stands up

and sees he’s

s

u

r

r

o

u

n

d

e

d

by soccer coaches

and soccer players

and soccer parents

(but not HIS parents

(who I’m sure are busy

(doing something un-Davey-related))).

“You’re NOT SUPPOSED TO be here, Davey,” say the soccer coaches and soccer players and soccer parents in hollow voices.

They advance on Davey, chanting.

“NOT SUPPOSED TO!

NOT SUPPOSED TO!

NOT SUPPOSED TO!”

They close in.

Davey turns slowly in place.

Closer.

Davey holds up his hands to surrender.

No escape.

“NOT SUPPOSED TO!”

Or is there?

One of hands still holds his meander.

He remembers a book he was read once, long ago.

About meander.

Closer.

How did the book go?

He’s almost out of

time

time

time

Davey clutches the meander. “I have the right to meander,” he mutters.