To see Riley’s dejected face when I told her she had to dig back again, the moment she was about to celebrate finishing. Thinking back to it still made me smile. What a sight it had been. How hard I had laughed at her misery. Then she came after me with a shovel full of clay, and I ran. Laughing and shrieking like a teenage girl, giving me a warm sense of déjà vu and satisfaction.

Still I was thankful we had finished the trenches. The trenches were now covered with clay and filled with pipes. Like we never struggled for three days to dig them. Accomplishment, a sad kind, staring us in the face. The wooden frames of the two dressing rooms stood as well. The plumber, a skinny man who wore denim dungarees and striped shirt, had come and gone. He was bald and old but had none of the swag Henry or the Johnson brothers had. So I let him go again when he had done his job. Leaving us with a working water supply and drainage.

I was not clear on how the river provided us with Its water or how we dumped our filth in it. But it must have something to do with the two machines that cost more than half a field of grass. I had to rent them for now. Ten dollars a day, for one. Before it would have taken up my entire profitability, now it was a small dent. de spite their cost, the cleansers, as someone named them, were very handy. We now had drinkable water! Not important for Riley or me, but the lumber people seemed happy! Not happy enough to decrease their pay again, as they still had to buy their own food, but small steps.

Two weeks had passed since Riley joined my world and the lively atmosphere was growing on me. The company was strange but pleasant. I didn’t know why but as I felt younger in this world I felt it easier to deal with my physical incompetence in the real. There were times though, I wished to murder her with a stick.

“Give me that blueprint you crone.” She said, her voice irritated.

“Why? You had it for five minutes last time and all you did was complain that we didn’t have an auto-build function.” I said as I kept looking at the blueprint for the equipment storage building.

In principle it was easy. It was nothing more than a box of two-by-two-by-two meters. It was three sides, a flat roof, and a door. Simple. Thus the main reason we wanted to build it ourselves, to speed the process along. It was that or chopping trees. We had finished the line work on the field and the corner flags stood in all their mediocre glory. The scoreboard stood, and the goals were built. Thus the only easy job left was the equipment storage or chopping trees.

Chopping trees was no longer an option. The lumber people, who slept underneath the stars until their two weeks were up, kept saying ‘Scuse me, sir’. Followed by a, ‘When will I be able to sleep under a roof?’, ‘Why do I need to shit behind a tree?’ or my favorite ‘Why am I not getting a better ax?’.

They were all valid questions. I ignored them as they wouldn't like the answers. But what annoyed me was not the questions. It was the fact they asked them every other minute. They almost formed a line to harass me while chopping. In the end, the endless questions outgrew my want for more cash.

Riley hadn’t given up on the blueprint and said, “I was about to say something when you tore it out of my hands!”

“Sure, sure, sure...“ I mumbled back. Then I looked up, picked up a shovel and walked away. It had been raining all day so my feet sank into the wet clay. Used to the slippery surface by now, it didn’t bother me anymore. The common cold or a runny nose wasn’t a thing either in this new world, so all you had to endure was the cold wetness. It could get unpleasant, but nothing more than that.

“Where are you going?” She asked, baffled by my sudden action.

“I will ask the game overlords how they want us to dig this out,” I responded without stopping. Walking all the way towards the back of the dressing rooms. A few paces further I turned around and took my posture. “Show me please!” I shouted to the sky while holding the blueprint up.

Nothing happened. You can’t be real right? Were the theatrics a thing?

“Please show me the way!” I shouted again.

Still nothing. I looked around and saw the smirking Riley standing five meters away. Her arms crossed. Leaning against the frame of one of the dressing rooms.

“Why isn’t it working?” I asked, like an idiot. I turned my attention back to the blueprint.

She sighed, and I heard her sopping footsteps approaching. When she stood next to me she held up her hand and said nothing to explain herself.

I did not live all these years, becoming a dinosaur, to let a thirteen-year-old boss me around. Like some smuck. I looked at her and smiled. Turned around, raised the blueprint and let myself fall to my knees on the soggy ground.

“Ow great and beautiful Overlords of the game of football. Of the playing fields filled with vibrant and dewy grass. Of the stadiums filled with passion and joy. Share upon me the knowledge needed for this Equipment storage. So I can teach it to my devoted, young, and naïve follower and build it to be everlasting!” I shouted towards the sky.

For a moment nothing happened. It was quiet, I couldn't even hear the sounds of the lumber people hacking away at threes or the saw tables. No birds, no wind or the rustling of the trees. Dead quiet. Unnatural. For a moment I doubted the validity of my approach. Then thunder boomed and lightning cracked through the sky. With a single clap of power, it flashed down and hit the leftmost dressing room in front of us. Destroying the whole structure, as it spewed a wave of wood chips and nails all over the place. The structure creaked and then fell towards the side of the other dressing room, damaging it. The other dressing room shook but kept its form. A distinct smell of Ozone and burned wood filled the air.

“What the fuck…” Riley whispered next to me.

“Yeah…” I whispered back, staring at the splintered mess that had been a dressing room in the making. My face felt irritated, and as I was still in shock, I touched it. A stinging sensation that went through me brought me back to reality. I looked at my hand and saw it was red with blood, watered down by the insistent rain. I had felt the many projectiles hitting me, but it seemed they left a bit of damage behind. There was not much pain, more like I scratched too hard and someone was dabbing iodine on it.

I looked towards Riley, her hair stuck to her face. Little wood chips lay all around her. Her yellow tracksuit had holes in it and wood chips stuck to it...

“Uhh, Riley. What is on your face?” I asked. I knew but didn’t want to spoil the surprise.

“What do you mean?” She asked while her hand moved to the nail that had planted itself in her cheek, right beneath her eye.

When she touched it she squealed and screamed, “What the bloody hell!”

“You felt nothing?” I asked. Surprised.

She tried to look at it, crossing her eyes and leaning back. Like it would help her get an angle. Then she gave up and tentatively send her hand back towards the foreign object lodged in her face. Touching it and then grimacing.

“I didn’t feel it at first, but now it stings. What the hell man. My father said nothing about this shit. Is this because of your left bucket obsession? Goddamn realism.” She grumbled while I thought of someone else who should have been near.

“Henry!” I shouted while looking around. I walked passed the aggravated teen and went around the wreckage shouting his name. I couldn’t lose major Armstrong. He was a vital part of my team now.

I heard nothing and became worried he might be in the pile of wood, left by the dressing room. “Henry!” I shouted once again as I climbed on the rubble. The point of impact was still smoldering and the ozone in the air had not faded away yet. Rain making the wood slippery.

I was about to lift some wreckage up when I heard a voice coming from behind “What is he doing? Why did he break down my work? What's on your face?”

A short silence followed, then a female voice responded “Calm your tits huh, Henry? Lightning struck because the idiot was overdramatic. For a change. So now the idiot is looking for his favorite mustache Zombie... “ she said something about the nail but I shouted “Language!” Straight through it. I stumbled off the wreckage and walked towards the conversation.

As I arrived, I didn’t pause my steps and bear hugged Henry. I held on for a view seconds, the lefted my head from his shoulders and kissed him on the forehead saying “Never scare me like that again.”

I turned to the mutilated teen, my brows furrowed in agitation “and you, Little lady. One more Zombie remark and I will kick you out for a few days!” I exclaimed.

I released Henry and said to him “Sorry Henry, you will have to rebuild the dressing room.” My face apologetic. Why I was apologizing to him while all that hard work was coming out of my pocket I didn’t know. It was not like I wanted thunder to rain upon his hard work and destroy it. Not really. Well, I thought about it as being worth it if that would happen. But I would not share these thoughts.

He nodded and said, “That seems like the right thing to do, sir.” Then walked to the crime scene and began his selection of parts that had survived natures terrorist attack.

I turned to Riley and said “You. Pull that thing out of your face. Norma won’t allow piercings at your age.”

She gave me a stink eye but touched the nail, gripped it carefully and counted down, “Three, two, Goddamnit!!! ahhhhhh what is up with these pain settings!!”

I ignored her and looked at the ground, then said “Ow look, it worked!” Unnatural blue was covering the spot were I had done my ‘prayer’. Four simple holes in the ground where poles should be. Four more to support the floor. Yeah… could have thought of that myself… Not worth all that trouble… Or was it...