“Well, that was pretty weird…” Quinn’s dad said, as they strolled out of the hospital emergency room toward the car. Quinn nodded in solemn agreement. His brain rattled a little, still full of purple marbles and tapioca. He winced as his now full blown concussion sent steam whistling from his ears and left a trail of silly string on the asphalt.
Just a few hours earlier, Quinn, the goalkeeper for his club soccer team, came out of his box low and fast, to intercept a couple of players desperately sparring for the ball. He dove in, punching it away as one of the players aimed a kick…but instead of connecting with the ball, his foot caught Quinn in the face like a grizzly car crash (an all-too-common goalie accident).
Quinn’s jaw spun away with a funny “vip-vip-vip!” and hit a light post, exploding in a shower of sparks. His teeth peppered everyone within fifty yards…but his head flew straight up in the air at such velocity that we lost sight of it shortly before his “AAAAAAAAAAAH!” diminished into the night. What a mess!
Willy the Astronaut was a clumsy buffoon who, for the second time this month, slipped and splashed into the molding tank at the polar ice mine on the surface of Mars…as it’s contents began to freeze. His heavily insulated vac-suit protected him from harm, but he wasn’t discovered until the 60 ton cylinder of ice had already been rocket-lifted up to the orbital processing plant, where it would be transformed into liquid oxygen rocket fuel.
Willy’s coworkers labored fruitlessly for eight frustrating hours with a laser drill to free him, without luck…..until Willy noticed Quinn’s gnarly, high velocity head glance off the ice and careen away, still hollering, “Aaaaaaaaaah!” Quinn’s head must have hit a sweet spot in the ice, just so, because it fractured the cylinder neatly, allowing Willy to escape unharmed and without a costly, shattered mess for the mining company. Willy never mentioned Quinn’s head to his employers, he was a known buffoon and his credibility was already compromised.
As to Quinn; his dad managed to gather up all his bits and parts and take him to the hospital, where the clever use of duct tape and super glue had him back on his feet in a few short hours. We figure his wild story about ice mining on Mars was probably just a symptom of his concussion.
“Well, that was pretty weird…..”
***This is a totally true story which happened to John’s son, Quinn, last week, at a soccer game in Millburn, NJ on June 9th, 2017. Quinn is recovering (slowly but steadily) and has been corresponding with Willy the Astronaut on facebook. Quinn’s dad is building a rocket ship in the barn out back, so they can visit the ice mine on Mars next month. -Marsha