Fresh fruit, fried chicken, sliced tomatoes, pound cake, pimento cheese sandwiches, and deviled eggs. Those little fist-sized white boats filled with yellow, spicy goodness just looking at me. These are just some of the foods laid out on the several tables making up our picnic compound this year. It is our annual friends and family picnic at Indian Point. 

Oh, and there is my new ball! A shiny pink Spalding with no dirt or street markings, and I can’t wait to introduce it to my friends and my cousins. 

While waiting for the rest of the food to be laid out, grabbing an egg and bouncing my ball. Before swimming and after swimming, grabbing an egg, tossing my ball. While watching the softball game from the sideline, eating an egg and playing with my ball. 

Sitting in the tram, watching and listening to the clang as my ball bounces off the metal floors, contemplating that egg when we get off. Hearing my father say, “Stop bouncing that ball until 

you get off.” Contemplating an egg when we got off. Focusing on my ball as it bounces down the steps and off the tram. Hearing my grandmother say from an increasing distance, “The baby’s fallen out the tram, going after that ball!” 

Seeing the tram pull away from my new position on the ground. Don’t see my ball. I wonder if there are any deviled eggs left.