Little Football Hero
My name is Jill Tiny
chapter 16
by
copier
· original author:
rainman1131
"He's in his room," replied the elder Jill, as she grasped the door knob. Young Jill could vaguely make out the low buzz of what sounded like voices. Tiny voices.
The older woman opened the door.
"Wow," whispered Jill, awe plain in her voice.
The sight before her was almost too much to take in at once. In her mind she saw it in a series of images, and the scene at first didn't seem to make sense. Here, in one corner of the large room, sat a large doll house, a two-story structure similar to the larger house they were standing in. Next to the house was what looked like a small city park, seemingly sodded in real grass. Adjoining the park and stretching off toward the opposite end of the room was a tiny football field, complete with painted-on yard lines and a foot-and-a-half tall goalpost at each end.
But, as amazing as all this was, the miniature house, park, and field were not what most thrilled Jill.
The most amazing thing was that this little, toy world was populated. There were tiny people everywhere. None of them stood higher than young Jill's ankles.
"Oh, my God, they're-" young Jill began, then stopped as her older counterpart placed a finger to her own lips, asking Jill to be quiet.
"Practice," the Director whispered. "We don't want to disturb them." She consulted her watch. "It should be almost over. Let's watch a bit."
Jill nodded, then looked down at the football field, as she stood in the doorway beside the two adults. On the field, two teams, one dressed in red uniforms, the other in white, stood lined up facing each other near midfield. The quarterback on the white team was hunched down behind center, calling out signals.
Jackie nudged Young Jill. "That's him," she whispered, a hand in front of her mouth. "The quarterback. The tall one with the hair. That's Jill's son."
Jill looked to where Jackie pointed.
The boy was indeed tall, at least compared to the rest of his teammates, standing a full head above the tallest of them. He had a lanky, athletic-looking physique, and long, blond hair that just showed out the back of his helmet. As he finished barking his signals, he took the snap and pulled away from center with such fluid grace and ease of movement, that Jill was reminded of something sleek and powerful, like a big cat.
The tall quarterback, dodged first one would-be tackler, then another, moving lithely aside, his body language slyly telling his pursuers, it won't be that easy, boys. Then, as he scanned downfield, he spied his receiver streaking down the left sideline, two steps in front of the defender. Zigging quickly to his right, letting another rusher speed past, the tall boy pivoted around quickly and launched the ball downfield. The receiver caught the ball, perfectly in stride, and pelted easily into the end zone, his pursuer making a futile, too-late dive at the goal line.
The white team whooped and cheered, surrounding the tall boy, and slapping him on his back and shoulder pads. There were also some tiny squeals from the little park, and Jill noticed, for the first time, that there was a group of about a dozen tiny girls in cheerleader uniforms over there; they wore red and white skirts and tops, and as the little girls bounded over toward the field, Jill saw a blur of flashing, tanned legs under the short skirts, and tiny, pert breasts bouncing inside soft, fuzzy sweaters.
Then there were two bursts from a whistle. "Ok," called a tiny man on the sideline. "That's it for today, boys. Good work, offense. Defense, good try, but you've got some work to do. Same time tomorrow, boys."
As the players started to mill around the field, some talking in groups, some going over to join the cheerleaders, the elder Jill motioned her young friend into the room. "Come on, Jill. Come and meet my son.'
Jill nodded, following the older women. "Sure, Jill," she said, a slightly puzzled smile on her young face. "But, I don't think I understand. Those kids are high school age, aren't they? How can you have a son that old? You're only in your mid-twenties, aren't you?"
The Director smiled. "I'll explain that in good time, Jill. Now, come on. Kneel down by the side of the field with me. You too, Jackie."
As the three large people knelt down in front of the tiny field, Jill saw that the tall boy had walked over to them, his helmet now off and held in the crook of his arm. He grinned up at the three of them. "Hi, Mom. Hey, Jackie. Who's the cutie?"
Young Jill felt her face grow warm. She let out an involuntary nervous laugh, and was unable to say anything else. This was because she was staring at this tiny, six-inch tall boy, not quite believing her eyes. She had to remember to keep breathing.
He was beautiful. The word, she knew, should not be quite right, not in describing a male, but somehow, with this boy, it was. His high-cheeked, lightly-tanned face, framed by a thick mane of nearly shoulder-length blond hair, was classically handsome, like a Nordic warrior. Like a Viking.
"I..." Jill began, then stumbled a bit over her words. She cleared her throat, tried again. "I...I'm Jill."
The boy's grinned widened. I'm William, Jill. Nice to meet you. No need for you to be nervous. Here, put your hand down here." He held his own small hand in front of him, holding it flat, palm up. "Like this."
Moving slowly, as if in a dream, Jill did as she was instructed, hovering her hand down near the tiny teenager. William moved quickly around Jill's hand, and sat himself easily in it's middle, his legs hanging over the edge of the huge palm. He smiled up at Jill, and jerked his thumb upward. "Going up."
As Jill raised William up level with her face, she marveled at the tiny, firm weight of him in her hand; through the skin of her palm, she could feel the taut muscles of his legs and bottom. She like the way he felt.
"What you doing with my boyfriend, biggie?"
Jill looked down.
There, near her right knee stood one of the cheerleaders. She was an absolutely stunning brunette, her face all laughing blue eyes and pert tiny nose, her hair cinched back in a thick ponytail that lay over the front of her shoulder. She had a buxom, curvy figure that, even in a miniature form, was intimidating to young Jill.
"Uh..." Jill began.
Then Jill said,
The older woman opened the door.
"Wow," whispered Jill, awe plain in her voice.
The sight before her was almost too much to take in at once. In her mind she saw it in a series of images, and the scene at first didn't seem to make sense. Here, in one corner of the large room, sat a large doll house, a two-story structure similar to the larger house they were standing in. Next to the house was what looked like a small city park, seemingly sodded in real grass. Adjoining the park and stretching off toward the opposite end of the room was a tiny football field, complete with painted-on yard lines and a foot-and-a-half tall goalpost at each end.
But, as amazing as all this was, the miniature house, park, and field were not what most thrilled Jill.
The most amazing thing was that this little, toy world was populated. There were tiny people everywhere. None of them stood higher than young Jill's ankles.
"Oh, my God, they're-" young Jill began, then stopped as her older counterpart placed a finger to her own lips, asking Jill to be quiet.
"Practice," the Director whispered. "We don't want to disturb them." She consulted her watch. "It should be almost over. Let's watch a bit."
Jill nodded, then looked down at the football field, as she stood in the doorway beside the two adults. On the field, two teams, one dressed in red uniforms, the other in white, stood lined up facing each other near midfield. The quarterback on the white team was hunched down behind center, calling out signals.
Jackie nudged Young Jill. "That's him," she whispered, a hand in front of her mouth. "The quarterback. The tall one with the hair. That's Jill's son."
Jill looked to where Jackie pointed.
The boy was indeed tall, at least compared to the rest of his teammates, standing a full head above the tallest of them. He had a lanky, athletic-looking physique, and long, blond hair that just showed out the back of his helmet. As he finished barking his signals, he took the snap and pulled away from center with such fluid grace and ease of movement, that Jill was reminded of something sleek and powerful, like a big cat.
The tall quarterback, dodged first one would-be tackler, then another, moving lithely aside, his body language slyly telling his pursuers, it won't be that easy, boys. Then, as he scanned downfield, he spied his receiver streaking down the left sideline, two steps in front of the defender. Zigging quickly to his right, letting another rusher speed past, the tall boy pivoted around quickly and launched the ball downfield. The receiver caught the ball, perfectly in stride, and pelted easily into the end zone, his pursuer making a futile, too-late dive at the goal line.
The white team whooped and cheered, surrounding the tall boy, and slapping him on his back and shoulder pads. There were also some tiny squeals from the little park, and Jill noticed, for the first time, that there was a group of about a dozen tiny girls in cheerleader uniforms over there; they wore red and white skirts and tops, and as the little girls bounded over toward the field, Jill saw a blur of flashing, tanned legs under the short skirts, and tiny, pert breasts bouncing inside soft, fuzzy sweaters.
Then there were two bursts from a whistle. "Ok," called a tiny man on the sideline. "That's it for today, boys. Good work, offense. Defense, good try, but you've got some work to do. Same time tomorrow, boys."
As the players started to mill around the field, some talking in groups, some going over to join the cheerleaders, the elder Jill motioned her young friend into the room. "Come on, Jill. Come and meet my son.'
Jill nodded, following the older women. "Sure, Jill," she said, a slightly puzzled smile on her young face. "But, I don't think I understand. Those kids are high school age, aren't they? How can you have a son that old? You're only in your mid-twenties, aren't you?"
The Director smiled. "I'll explain that in good time, Jill. Now, come on. Kneel down by the side of the field with me. You too, Jackie."
As the three large people knelt down in front of the tiny field, Jill saw that the tall boy had walked over to them, his helmet now off and held in the crook of his arm. He grinned up at the three of them. "Hi, Mom. Hey, Jackie. Who's the cutie?"
Young Jill felt her face grow warm. She let out an involuntary nervous laugh, and was unable to say anything else. This was because she was staring at this tiny, six-inch tall boy, not quite believing her eyes. She had to remember to keep breathing.
He was beautiful. The word, she knew, should not be quite right, not in describing a male, but somehow, with this boy, it was. His high-cheeked, lightly-tanned face, framed by a thick mane of nearly shoulder-length blond hair, was classically handsome, like a Nordic warrior. Like a Viking.
"I..." Jill began, then stumbled a bit over her words. She cleared her throat, tried again. "I...I'm Jill."
The boy's grinned widened. I'm William, Jill. Nice to meet you. No need for you to be nervous. Here, put your hand down here." He held his own small hand in front of him, holding it flat, palm up. "Like this."
Moving slowly, as if in a dream, Jill did as she was instructed, hovering her hand down near the tiny teenager. William moved quickly around Jill's hand, and sat himself easily in it's middle, his legs hanging over the edge of the huge palm. He smiled up at Jill, and jerked his thumb upward. "Going up."
As Jill raised William up level with her face, she marveled at the tiny, firm weight of him in her hand; through the skin of her palm, she could feel the taut muscles of his legs and bottom. She like the way he felt.
"What you doing with my boyfriend, biggie?"
Jill looked down.
There, near her right knee stood one of the cheerleaders. She was an absolutely stunning brunette, her face all laughing blue eyes and pert tiny nose, her hair cinched back in a thick ponytail that lay over the front of her shoulder. She had a buxom, curvy figure that, even in a miniature form, was intimidating to young Jill.
"Uh..." Jill began.
Then Jill said,
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August 15
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