NFTeachable Moment

by John Dutton

The setting sun flashed a brief fireball on the cracked phone screen as Melt held it up.

Liam frowned. “Why would I buy it?”

“You wouldn’t. You know me.”

 “What’s it for?”

“It’s not for anything.”

“So someone who doesn’t know you – who has no freakin clue who you are – would pay good money for this?”

“Not good money, good crypto.”

Liam sighed and hiked up a sweat leg to rub his calf. The bleacher below had dug into his leg while he was focused on Melt’s phone.

“Bro. This is shit.”

“Right?”

“No, shit shit, not the shit.”

“Nah, bro, you don’t understand – this is what everyone is into.”

Melt pinched the image closer. A thick-lined cartoon of a giant boy’s head with a triumphant frown. A comic-book rendition of Melt’s own face and lank brown hair, topped by a red-gold crown angled back in a frankly non-royal way. And the crown fronted by an incongruous red baseball cap bill.

“I... I’m impressed you made it. Really. But you’re freakin dreaming if you think some dude is gonna buy it.”

“Bro, you don’t get it. This is just the first one. There’s, like, ten thousand Melt Kid Kings, each one a unique NFT. Two-fifty each. Do the math.”

“Fuck math. I’ll stick to skating.”

“I’ll get you the best board when these launch.”

Liam shot an involuntary glance at the beat-up wheels and scratched wood of the skateboard next to him.

“But why?” he said. “Like... why would they buy them?”

Melt eye-rolled and shook his head. He shoved the phone back in his hoodie pouch and sprang up, facing his friend.

“Have you listened to anything I said, bro? They’re limited edition. Each one is unique. Like, the crown can be bigger, more bling, different colors, the bill can have patterns and shit. You get to pick the eye color. Like a Fortnite skin, but just the head.”

“Yeah, I listened. But why would I buy one?”

“Urghcch... shit, bro – so you can own one!”

“Okay, follow-up question: why would I own one?”

“It’s exclusive merch.”

“You can’t have merch.”

“Why? Why the fuck not?”

“You have to be an influencer, a celeb, have a YouTube channel or whatev.”

“I will be.”

Liam looked incredulous. “How?”

“Cos I’ll be the Melt Kid King millionaire.”

Liam stood up and spun a wheel on his board. “When I skate on a half-pipe I got two options. I can get momentum by climbing higher each run, or... I can just climb to the top and let gravity do the work.”

“So?”

“You’re, like, trying to start at the top without the climb.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You wanna start at the top.”

Melt threw his head back with a smirk. “Ohhh... yeah, okay bro, I get it. But you’re missing a key factor.” Now he threw his arms out wide and pointed back at himself. “The Melt factor!”

Liam looked around them, searching for an audience. But they were alone on the bleachers. A scruffy dog was peeing on the fence behind home plate. A couple of moms in puffy jackets were pushing swings and chatting in the kiddie park. That was it. Leaves had fallen, ground was cold.

“Bruh. There’s no – “

Melt interrupted him. “I’m the fucking hype goat. The Discord channel – the guys on there – I’m hyping them up and they’re gonna go fucking crazy for the Kid Kings in fucking minutes once they drop.”

Liam eyed Melt. He sure was hyped up. Eyes gleaming, mouth tight, arms taught, still pointing at himself.

“How?” asked Liam.

“How what?”

“How you hyping them up?”

Melt relaxed, put a reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder and shook his lowered head. “Bro, it’s okay. You got your shit, I got mine.”

“Yeah. We’re good. But I still wanna know.”

“I’m a thousand percent sure.”

Now it was Liam’s turn to smirk, and Melt did not take it well.

“Fuck you! Skate your fucking life away while I cash in,” he said, jumping straight down from the top bleacher. As he landed his phone bounced out of his pocket. He tried to catch it and in bending down, hit his forehead hard on one of the diagonal metal supports. His cry of pain wasn’t as loud as it should have been. He crumpled to the ground.

Liam saw what happened and jumped down too. Dropping his board he crouched beside Melt, who was on his knees in the fetal position, moaning quietly and rocking back and forth.

“Bro...” said Liam softly, laying a hand on Melt’s back. “Lemme see.”

One of the moms was walking briskly toward them, frowning.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” whimpered Melt, still rocking.

“Is he okay?” shouted the mom.

Liam looked over at her and shrugged. She marched a little faster.

“Hey, honey,” she said as she bent down and put her hand on Melt’s back next to Liam’s. With her head angled on one side, her brown hair formed a curtain. Liam stared at her. The low sun filled her face. The concern and care in her eyes were a magical blanket. Liam felt the knot in his stomach untie. He hadn’t even known it was there.

She tried to pull Melt up by his shoulders. “Let me see, honey.”

He had one hand pressed to his head, just above his right eyebrow. She pried it off carefully. Melt was turned away from Liam but he could tell from the change in the mom’s expression that the injury was bad. Melt lifted up his hand to look at it, and both he and Liam saw the dripping bright blood. “Shit... my eye!” he moaned.

The mom focused on the injury area and fished a small packet of baby wipes from her pocket. “Let’s take a look at it,” she said as she opened the packet and pulled out a wipe. “This might sting but I need to see.”

Liam watched, his mouth hanging open slightly, as she dabbed at the wound, squinting and balling up the wipe before dabbing again. Her eyes flicked over to the metal support and Liam instinctively followed her gaze. There was blood on the end of a thick rusty bolt poking out an inch from the surface.

“Sit up, honey,” she said.

Melt raised his torso but kept his back to Liam. He wiped the other eye with his sleeve and Liam could see that he was crying. The mom pulled out another wipe, smoothed away the tears and then applied it to the wound.

“Hold it here. Press tight. Your eye’s fine but you’re gonna need stitches. Maybe a tetanus shot.”

Melt shook his head. “No, lady, no shot.”

She looked at Liam quizzically, then back at Melt. “You need one.” Then back to Liam. “Can you phone his parents?”

Liam nodded. Melt shook his head. “Nah-uh. They... they don’t believe in hospitals.”

She sighed. “Even for stitches?”

“I... I don’t know... Maybe. But no blood transfusions.”

The mom laughed, sat back on her heels and flicked her hair away from her face. Again, Liam was mesmerized by a warmth that flowed into him somehow.

“I don’t think you’ll need a blood transfusion, honey, but you need to get this cleaned up with alcohol at minimum, and you’ll probably have a big scar unless a doctor stitches you up real fast. Keep it pressed on tight!” She looked at Liam. He wanted her care. But she was all business with him. “Can you take him home?”

Liam nodded.

“Promise? You’ll do it now?”

“Sure. Yeah.”

She got up and brushed off her knees. She held out a hand to Melt, who took it and stood too.

He faced Liam for the first time. “Bro – you hear that? I’m gonna have a scar!”

The mom turned on her heels and waved at a toddler standing beside the swing, holding the hand of the other mom. As she walked away she said over her shoulder, “Clean it up, kid!”

Melt picked up his phone. “This is legendary, bro!”

“Huh?”

“The Melt Kings – Scarface edition!”

He walked past Liam and took the wipe off his forehead. After a quick glance at it, he threw it down in the fading grass.

Liam watched the mom reach the swings and hoist up her little boy with both hands. She held him up above her head like a champion and he giggled in the waning sunlight.