Dancing Shoes

There is a 6th grade boy who I call dumpling, whose real name is Kenta. I prefer dumpling though, as it is what we shout at each other every time we cross paths. Why? When we studied food, he was the only boy in both classes who remembered the english for gyoza, should you feel a burning need to translate it, means dumplings.

He is a clever boy, with an open face who smiles easily, but what I love most about him is that he is light on his feet. In the prefectural track and field tournament a while ago, he entered the high jump event and spent a lot of time, on his own, after school practicing in the gym by himself. And when he would run up to the bar, he was running on his toes, as if he were dancing. I didn't realize it at the time, but that is how he always runs.

I started to pay closer mind whenever I saw him, and have realized he walks the same way. He is constantly bouncing or leaping from the ball of one foot on to the next. How can you not see a kid bouncing gracefully down the halls and be gloomy or depressed? It's like he has some crazy energy inside of him his body is utterly unable to contain, which constantly sends him rocketing off the ground. Wish I were more like that.