Chain-Link Patrol

I scrambled up the heavy steel diamond mesh of the court's perimeter fence, wedging my boots into the wire junctions. Halfway up, a stray tennis ball came bouncing hard off the blacktop, rattling the chain links right under my grip. I absorbed the vibration with bent knees, holding tight against the rusted zinc wire. Right beside me, someone had tied a bright red bandanna around the post, fluttering in the afternoon air like a signal flag. From up here, I had a clear vantage over the asphalt court and the sidewalk, tracking every sneaker squeak and distant boombox beat echoing across the block.