fifth_digit raze we were playing touch football on the field behind the church when pete decided to tackle me. i tried to flatten out my left hand to break my fall, but i wasn't quick enough. the first thing to hit the ground was my little finger. pete's eyes went wide. he knew it wasn't good. it didn't hurt that much. it just looked funny. whenever i tried to bend my little finger, it curled over the top of my ring finger. i went to the hospital. a nurse told me i had a sprained finger. she said to ice it and wear a splint. she gave me this piece of metal to stabilize my finger and a tensor bandage to wrap around it. my dad didn't think it was that simple. he took me to a different hospital the next day. he was right. my finger wasn't sprained. it was broken and dislocated. i didn't know a part of my body could be both of those things at the same time. the doctor who popped it back into place looked like a science teacher. his moustache made me think of beakers and bunsen burners. after he froze my finger, i watched him pull on it like he was trying to rip it off of my hand. he put his whole body into it. he almost fell out of his chair before he was able to straighten it out. i had to wear a white moulded cast that kept my little finger and my ring finger locked in place. the finger that wasn't broken had to remind the one that was what it was supposed to look like. i was used to playing octaves on the piano with my left hand. now i was down to single notes. it didn't sound as rich. after a week or two, i thought i'd try using my thumb and middle finger. i wanted to see if i had enough spread to cover eight notes with half my hand. i did. ryan always called me jojo. when i signed out to use the bathroom in the middle of class, i started writing my name on the board as jojo mouldfinger. i felt like a villain in a james bond movie. i called him power guy. i can't remember where that came from. i think it was supposed to be a generic superhero name. ryan looked like the kind of guy you could count on to save the day. when i was still getting used to the cast, i was walking around at lunch recess when scott snapped a pass that was way off the mark. i wasn't anywhere near the game. it didn't matter. the football nailed me right in the nuts. he couldn't have aimed it better if he tried. my ass hit the dirt. i leaned back against the chain link fence to steady myself. scott ran over. "oh my god!" he said. "i'm so sorry!" i started laughing. scott looked at me funny. he smiled. pretty soon he was laughing too. sometimes it's all you can do. 211204 what's it to you? who go blather from