Being the new kid was hard, I must say.
Not everyone is as welcoming as you'd like them to be and also you don't know anyone there. And it soon becomes a vicious cycle leaving you, in the end, with no one really there to be that one friend you have.
My father and I moved out here a while ago since work was no good over where we're from. So he figured we'd move so he could get a job. It's nice here, I must admit; it's warmer than my older home. And there are more people here to talk to, too.
The only problem is I haven't found anyone to talk to. But when I thought I found someone to talk to, apparently they thought I talked too much. How can someone talk too much? My Dad always said there was no such thing as too much talking and that people who talk often get their point across better and so on. It didn't make sense to me, but I figured they were wrong and I didn't need to waste my time on becoming friends with someone like that.
It was recess time now. If there was anything I wanted to do now more than ever was join in on the game that most of the others were playing. Tag, I believe it was. It was some form of it; maybe freeze tag? Or that one tag where you need to say someone from television's name to be unfrozen. I don't know.
But that one boy who told me I talked too much was playing as well, so I don't think I want to play with him. I can't remember his name, but I do know that he doesn't talk at all. And of course if you pair someone up with someone who actually does talk someone will have a negative thing to say.
So that left me with nothing to do today at recess. My first day was a pretty big bust but Dad did say it might be. He wasn't too encouraging with this type of things.
I looked over at the big play set and saw another boy sitting on the plates. He was actually sitting on the lower plate of the flooring to the playhouse. Just sitting there; nothing else but that.
'How odd…' I thought, walking over to the large play set. I didn't want to talk to him. I hadn't seen him talk all day, so I figured if I went over to him and talked to him, I'd be insulted once again. People around here are confusing and antisocial.
And instead of copying his idea of sitting on the plates, I decided that it'd be better if I sat on the woodchip covered ground and watch that one boy and most of my other class play that one game that still draws and blank in my mind.
I looked up at the flooring to the plates on the playground and saw that there were holes in them. I smiled, remembering back to when my old teacher told us not to stick our fingers through them since they might get stuck. But these holes here look bigger than the ones at my old school so I think if anyone does that they'll be fine.
She also said not to because someone could pull on our fingers and dislocate them.
And I looked over to see that boy doing exactly what my old teacher told us not to do. He was sticking all his fingers in the holes! Well, they were all different holes, but he was still doing it! Wasn't he afraid that I'd come along and pull his fingers and dislocate them?
I crawled over to the plate he was sitting on and watched his fingers curl under the metal; touching and scarping the rusty metal with his fingernails. The sound was pretty different and not very pleasant but I'm thinking he can't hear it.
And as he uncurled his fingers, I looked up and took my hand; readying myself to grab one of his white fingers. He obviously hasn't had anyone grab at his fingers if he's still doing it. So I figured I'd do him a favor and warn him that people could really hurt you this way.
And once I saw the one finger go out a bit more, I quickly reached up and pulled on the finger. I heard him gasp loudly. I let go of his finger and he quickly got on all fours to look through the holes to look down at whatever grabbed at his fingers.
I kept my eye on him as he moved around; trying to steady his eyes to see what had done this to him. He angled one of his eyes down through the holes and saw me. His eyes were a pretty, icy blue.
I smiled up at him.
"Hello!" I smiled, he still looking down at me. "You shouldn't stick your fingers through the holes!" I went on, he sat up. I then got out from under the plates and walked up the latter to sit with him. He scooted over so I could sit down next to him. "My old teacher told us to never stick our fingers through them because we could get them broken if someone pulled on them or get them stuck if we're not careful. I suggest you do the same! I really taught you a lesson, huh?" I scolded, very gently.
He didn't say much; just looked at me in shock. I flashed him one of my best smiles I had to offer; trying to lighten the mood. But it didn't seem to work; how odd. So I decided that maybe some jokes would be in order.
"What kind of bagel can fly?" I asked. He grunted as if he was trying to think.
"Mhm?" He mumbled.
"A plain bagel!" I started to laugh a bit, but he seemed to stay in his still position. I can't believe that didn't earn a few chuckles! Dad loved that one!
And then we sat in what seemed like a silence that could kill for a very long time. All you could hear were the sounds of people's shoes skidding on the woodchips and them laughing and yelling playfully.
"What's your name?" He asked, looking back over at me. His eyes looked really harsh; almost intimidating! But I decided to look pass that since he was the first person to seem to really want to know my name. Dad always told me beggars can't be choosers.
"Tino!" I cheered since I was pretty happy someone finally asked. "Tino Vainamoinen! What's yours?" I asked. He looked down at his hands that were folded in his lap. He straightened his legs outward and crossed his feet together.
"I'm Berwald Oxenstierna." He mumbled, looking back up at me. And when he looked up at me, I suddenly felt his feeling of… I don't know what it was. For once, I was left speechless.