Lucas hurls one wild punch into the bright air. WHUMP! A gust whips in and yanks his red cap clean off. It cartwheels across the open field. His mouth drops open. He's already sprinting after it.
He sprints, leaping and grabbing at the air like a warrior catching a dragon. His boots thud-thud-thud on the dry grass. The cap bounces ahead of him.
The cap tumbles behind a small hill. He slides face-first into a patch of tall, sticky dandelions. He grabs only a handful of fuzzy seeds. They float away.
Over the hill, the red cap pops up and keeps rolling. It skips across the soft dirt, catching little bumps of light. It will not stop.
Lucas gives one more warrior lunge, arms spread wide, and DIVES. His knees hit the soft dirt with a thump. The cap bounces off his hands, skips, and lands upside-down on top of the old wooden fence post—spinning round and round.
He crouches low. Eyes locked on the spinning cap. Feet planted. Arms pulled back. He thinks: one more jump.
He LEAPS—high, high, HIGH. His boots leave the dirt. His arms stretch up toward the fence post. The cap spins and spins above him.
The cap plops right into his outstretched palms. The wind stops. The whole field goes quiet. A grin splits his freckled face.
He pulls the cap back over his ears. Tips it up. Tips it down. He takes a breath and holds it tight in his fist.
He throws one more punch into the bright afternoon sun. WHUMP! This time he's laughing. Sunlight glints across the red brim.