The summer nights of Portersville, Iowa bring nothing but makeshift recreation, and the children let out from school find pleasure bouncing their big red balls from the little trinket machines at the grocery store. All the children ran around, and bounced their balls upon the sidewalks, the streets, and even off cars. Bridger Wakeman was among the army of bouncers, until his bouncing ball bounced a little bit too far.
Bridger was looked upon as a leader, being the oldest on his block the others looked to him for guidance; he was the neighborhood Thor, igniting the beacon of summer freedom. His hair: unruly. His shoes: duck taped at the soles. His eyes: yearning for adventure. Bridger bounced his ball with perfect finesse, and caught it with up-most accuracy. But on that fateful night in July, the ball missed its home, and bounced disobediently down the street. It bounced past the traffic light, across the bridge, and ended its journey in an open van door at the corner Sinclair station. Bridger followed closely behind his arms outstretched like a child wanting his mom. He ran past the traffic light, across the bridge, and finally became reunited with the bouncing ball under the seat in a van. The door slammed shut, and the van drove away taking with it the very beacon, of summer freedom.
Where did Bridger go?
Was he abandoned in the woods and adopted by wolves?
Will the beacon of summer freedom shine light in Portersville again?
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