The Red Seats at Dodger Stadium

We were in the nosebleed seats at Dodger stadium—the red ones way up top—where you had to watch the big screen just to see the action.

The players on the field down below looked like ants on green felt; dad told me those top seats were red because you’d bleed if you fell, or worse, go flying over the railing and land on the blue seats down below.

​There was a man a few rows above us, sitting alone. After a few innings, he was slurring his words and getting belligerent. 

I looked back in time to see him fly over my head and crashinto the seats three rows down, bouncing sideways and landing crumpled in the stairwell. He’d hit his face hard. He jumped upon shaky legs and was hauled off by security. He’d leftsomething from his mouth behind.

“Are those teeth Mom?” I asked.

​“I don’t think so sweetie, but I don’t have my glasses,” she said.

Jesus, we were watching a ball game from this high up and mom didn’t bring her glasses? Mom’s breath smelled like she might be seeing double anyway.

I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to get drunk. I would just watch baseball, drink beer, and fart all the time like dad did.

“Go check it out kid,” dad said, elbowing my ribs.

“Okay,” I said.

My little sister (all pigtails and teeth), watched the big screen, eating peanuts, oblivious. My sister was like that. Her sundress shimmered with red flowers. My little brother was sitting next to her, leaning to one side, unimpressed. My brother was like that.

I had to know what came out of the man’s mouth. I made my way down steep steps, towards a pile of ivory and blood. Ihad to know.

​“Are they teeth?” Dad shouted.

I bent over in a trance to look at the ivory.

​“What are they?” Mom asked.

​“Onions,” I said.

“They look just like teeth!” Dad said.

“Yeah,” I said. I didn’t think I was gonna eat onions for a while.

Josh Price lives in Northern California with his wife and dogs. He has forthcoming flash with The Los Angeles Review, Scribble Magazine, and Burningword Literary Journal, and South Florida Poetry Journal, The Daily Drunk, 365 Tomorrows and F3LL Magazine have published his flash. You can visit on Twitter@timepinto.

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