RIP Hacky Sack Club
written by Anna Wolf
As I walk to my pew, I pass masses of boys with gelled-back hair in tight shorts and boating shoes, all crying tears of Arnold Palmer. I sit down and the service for Hacky Sack Club begins. All the former members form a circle at the front. The club president stands up last and exhibits the hacky sack to everyone at the service.
The emotion in the crowd grows and the flow of Arnold Palmer tears quickens. Beginning with the president, each club member kicks the hacky sack for the last time with the final boy kicking it into the casket.The sound of jiggling beans echoes in the building.
Everyone is silent and weeps as the casket is closed by the priest.
The former club members are still in shock. They whisper, “I’ll miss you bro” in unison and sit down. After the casket is lowered into the ground, only the gravestone reading RIP HACKY SACK CLUB marks where greatest once stood. The ex-club members begin to sob. The grass now seeps with Arnold Palmer.
Once the service is over, everyone heads home, crying into their Polo handkerchiefs. The next day at school, lower green pod is silent. The sound of jiggling beans is not heard.
There is only one hope that the graduating class holds onto. They look to the junior class to revive the club. Will the Arnold Palmer cease to flow? Will the boat shoes all have slight indents yet again from kicking a hacky sack? Will the hacky sack club be unburied?
Only time will tell what the former juniors will do.