Winter came down hard on Minneapolis that year. One week after Derrick and Tasha’s trip to the Nile Theater, the first real snowstorm hit—soft at first, then thick and heavy, piling fast on sidewalks, cars, rooftops, and the playgrounds they spent all summer on.
The group met that Saturday morning at Tony’s house, bundled in layers, breath fogging in the air. The snow crunched under their boots. They decided to head over to Wilharm’s Drug Store, and get some burgers and fries and shakes at their soda fountain in the back. As they crossed Phelps, the park looked strange—like a familiar friend wearing unfamiliar clothing. Nobody was there. There were no crowds. No footballs flying. No music. Not even anyone ice skating. Just silence. Clean. White. Still.
They walked across the field where they’d played all their games over the years. Even though their season this year was at King Park, this field was still theirs. Tony kicked at the snow.
“Man. It looks like a picture.” he said.
Marcus nodded slowly.
“It’s weird… it’s like everything we did is under here somewhere. The football field, basketball court, baseball diamond.”
Leon bent down, ran his glove through the snow, and touched the frozen grass beneath.
“It’s still here,” he said quietly.
Reggie took a breath.
“Feels like football season went by too fast.”
Nobody said anything for a moment. The wind blew softly across the empty field. Derrick stepped out toward midfield and looked around. He remembered the laughter, the yelling, the hits, the wins, the losses, everything. Ice skating, and playing hockey in the ice rink even just a few years ago. He pressed his foot into the snow, leaving a deep, solid footprint.
“This place made us,” he said softly.
“Oh man. There he go getting all deep and everything. You need to get smacked with this snowball.” Tony said reaching down and scooping up a handful of snow, and flinging it at Derrick.
It wasn’t the kind of snow good for making snowballs, so the snow powder just dissipated in all directions.
“Always starting something.” Derrick laughed. “But man, I was serious.
The guys walked over and stood beside him. Tony bumped Derrick’s shoulder.
“We ain’t done, you know. Next year we gonna turn it out” He said.
Marcus grinned.
“Yep. We are!” Leon nodded. “
The guys formed a loose circle in the snow. Not planned. Not choreographed. Just instinct. Just the fellas. They stood there—silent, strong, connected— the winter wind brushing past them like a gentle reminder.
“Ok.” Tony said, after a few moments. “Enough of this sentimental stuff. It’s cold out here, and the store is still a block away.”
School in December was its own universe. Snow on the windowsills. Wet boot prints in the hallways. Kids wearing heavy coats, and the hallways? Already wild.
First, well what happened was that somebody, (Marcus swore it wasn’t him), brought a snowball into the school and threw it down the stairwell. It splattered on a teacher’s coat. She screamed. Everyone froze.
“WHO DID THAT?!”
Thirty kids pointed in thirty different directions. One of the security guards walked up the stairs shaking his head.
“Lord… it’s not even Christmas yet.”
Next, well, the cafeteria was loud every day. Girls talking about holiday plans. Boys challenging each other to push-up contests in the corner. Somebody throwing milk across the room twice a week. Tony got in trouble for dancing on the lunch table. A security guard yelled at him to get down, and walked away shaking his head, “Lord….it’s not even Christmas yet.”
Tasha was adjusting well to her new school. Teachers liked her. Girls liked her. Even the guys noticed her—but they also noticed Derrick, and they weren’t stupid. One guy though, Donnell, tried to sit next to her at lunch once, like he was going to try and lay his rap on her. Marcus slammed his tray down next to him and menacingly said loudly:
“Uh-huh. Go ahead. Try it.”
The boy moved. Tasha blushed, and Cathy rolled her eyes.
“Y’all ridiculous.” Cathy said.
Bryant’s winter choir put on a show in the auditorium. The music teacher had them singing: “Silent Night” “O Come All Ye Faithful” And a soul-stirring version of “Trouble of the World.” Derrick sat with the fellas and listened, enjoying the concert. Tasha spotted him afterward and smiled.
“It was pretty, wasn’t it?” she asked.
Derrick nodded.
“Yeah. Real pretty.”
In mid-December, a fight almost broke out near the lockers. Jason, (the same Jason who stabbed EJ on the first day), was mouthing off to some 9th graders. They shoved him. He shoved back. Somebody yelled,
“Here we go!”
Kids rushed over. But teachers intervened immediately. Derrick shook his head.
“Folks is crazy.”
Tasha laughed.
“You’re just figuring that out?”
One snowy afternoon, Derrick and the guys walked home together down 4th Avenue, first stopping at the store on the corner of 38th & 4th to buy some candy and chips. Kids were sliding down snowbanks. Cars crawled carefully along the snowy roads. Vince and El, short for Elmer, hitched a ride on the back of the passing 4th Avenue bus, while Tony tried to throw a snowball at that same bus. Marcus slipped on ice and blamed the sidewalk, and not his clumsiness. Leon, with no gloves, walked with his hands deep in his pockets like he was too cool to be cold.
Derrick looked around at his friends—laughing, arguing, throwing snowballs, being themselves—and felt a quiet joy. Winter or not… School chaos or not… Wins or losses… Life felt good.