Dennis the Tennis Court

Derelict and overgrown with weeds, Dennis watched the years pass by. He can't remember the last time someone played tennis on him. Was it a year? Was it a decade? He didn't know. He was a tennis court, and tennis courts don't know much about time.

When a young family moved into the house next door, they named their baby boy Dennis. They were very nice people. Dennis liked them. They had a dog, and one day the dog came over and played on Dennis. The dog was also nice.

The boy was very proud of his name. He told all his friends about it. One day, he asked his father, “Is Dennis a tennis court?”

His father laughed. “You’re named after Dennis the Menace, son,” he said. “He’s a boy in a comic book.”

“Oh.” The boy looked up at Dennis. “I love you, Dennis!” he called.

“I love you too, son,” said Dennis, smiling. “I love everybody.”

One cold winter morning, freezing rain fell all day. In the night, a terrible storm blew in. Dennis shivered in the wind. The rain froze. The storm raged.

Dennis fell apart.

The boy ran to his mother. “It’s Dennis!” he cried. “Dennis is falling apart!”

His mother looked out the window. “Oh, no!” she gasped.

Dennis was filled with mud. The freezing rains had burst through the crust of dirt on Dennis’s tennis court surface and saturated him. Mud oozed out of his cracks and spread across his surface. The rain froze and turned to ice. Ice froze mud. The mud froze and spread.

“Dennis is falling apart!” cried the boy. “He’s a mess! He’s a mess!”

His mother put her hand over her mouth.

“Dennis is falling apart!”

The boy’s father rushed to the phone. “We need a bulldozer!” he shouted. “We need someone to save Dennis!”

“Don’t take me!” cried Dennis. “I’m not all here anymore. I’m falling apart. Save the children, save the children!”

“The children are not here,” his father said. “But you are. You will be okay, Dennis.”

Dennis was not okay. Dennis was falling apart.

The whole family worked to pull Dennis together again. The little boy dug out the mud with his little shovel. The little girl and the mother swept and mopped. The father and grandfather used a giant broom.

“Come on, Dennis, be strong!” they told him. “We’ll fix you. We’ll fix you.”

But Dennis was weak. He was weak and falling apart. They pulled and pulled, but he stayed broken.

The sun rose. The family worked all day. The sun set. They worked all night. Dennis was broken.

At first light, the family called the bulldozer. They needed help.

The bulldozer rumbled up. The bulldozer driver got out. He took off his hat. He was a nice man.

“I’m very sorry, folks,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take Dennis to the dump. He is too broken to fix. He is too broken to keep. He is broken beyond repair.”

“No!” cried the little boy. “No!”

Dennis’s family cried too.

The bulldozer driver climbed into his bulldozer. He had two children of his own. He knew how they felt. He leaned out of the bulldozer and patted the little boy on the head.

“I’m sorry, son,” he said. “It’s time for Dennis to go.”

The bulldozer driver started up the bulldozer and rolled it over Dennis. The bulldozer pushed Dennis out of his tennis court home. Dennis’s family watched in tears.

The bulldozer carried Dennis to the dump. Dennis was a tennis court. Tennis courts don’t belong in the dump.

There were other tennis courts at the tennis court dump. All the other tennis courts were broken. Most of them were broken beyond repair. Some tennis courts were not broken. They were fine. But they were old and falling apart. One tennis court had a crack across the middle. Another tennis court had two cracks. Another tennis court had three cracks. None of the tennis courts had four cracks.

Dennis had four cracks. Two of his cracks were side by side. Two of his cracks were next to each other. Dennis was broken in four places. His cracks were broken.

The bulldozer dumped Dennis on the tennis court dump.

“I’m not okay,” said Dennis. He wasn’t okay. He was broken in four places.

Dennis didn’t fit in the dump. He didn’t fit in the dump with all the other tennis courts. Tennis courts don’t belong in the dump with the broken glass and the tin cans and the tires.

Just as Dennis seemed to give up all hope, he heard a voice.

"Hi, my name is Courtney. Are you broken, too?"

Dennis turned to see who was talking.

“I’m broken in four places. I’m broken in the dump. I’m broken beyond repair. I’m too broken to fix,” said Dennis.

“I’m not broken,” said Courtney. “I’m just old. I’m a very old tennis court. Everyone thinks I’m broken. But I’m not. I’ve been here at the dump for a very long time. I’m so old that I don’t know where I came from. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where my family is. I don’t know who I am.”

“I don’t know where my family is either,” said Dennis. “I don’t know where my tennis court family is.”

“You’re a tennis court too?” said Courtney. “You’re a tennis court from a tennis court family?”

“I’m a tennis court from a tennis court family,” said Dennis. “I’m from a tennis court family.”

“Let me tell you about my tennis court family,” said Courtney.

“Yes, please,” said Dennis.

“Tennis courts are from tennis court families,” said Courtney. “The earth is made of dirt. Dirt is made of rocks and soil. Rocks are made of minerals and other rocks. Soil is made of dirt. And dirt is made of tennis courts.”

“Tennis courts are from tennis court families?” said Dennis. “Tennis courts are made of dirt?”

“Tennis courts are from tennis court families,” said Courtney. “I’m from a tennis court family. I’m made of dirt. I’m made of tennis courts.”

“I’m from a tennis court family too,” said Dennis. “I’m made of dirt. I’m made of tennis courts.”

“I remember tennis courts from my family. Tennis courts come in all different shapes and sizes. Many of them are green like me. Some of them are red, some of them are blue and some of them are yellow. Some of them are very old, some of them are very young. But one thing that all tennis courts have in common is that they’re all from tennis court families.”

“I’m from a tennis court family too,” said Dennis. “But I don’t know where my tennis court family is.”

“Courtney, what kind of tennis court are you?” asked Dennis.

“I’m a clay tennis court,” said Courtney. “Clay tennis courts look like me and they feel like me. We’re all old tennis courts.”

“I’m a hard court,” said Dennis. “Hard court tennis courts look like me and they feel like me. We’re all new tennis courts.”

“Dennis, what do you like to do?” said Courtney.

“I like to play tennis,” said Dennis.

“I like to play tennis too,” said Courtney.

Courtney showed Dennis how to play tennis. Courtney showed Dennis how to play tennis on a tennis court. Courtney showed Dennis how to play tennis on Courtney.

“Dennis, I like to play tennis with you. You’re a good tennis court,” said Courtney.

“I like to play tennis with you too, Courtney. You’re a good tennis court too,” said Dennis.

“Dennis, do you know what I like about you?” said Courtney.

“What do you like about me, Courtney?” asked Dennis.

“You’re a good friend to have,” said Courtney.

“You’re a good friend to have too, Courtney,” said Dennis.

A few days later, Dennis heard another voice.

“Hello, my name is Marvin,” said the voice. “I’m a basketball. I’m broken in two places. I’m broken in the middle of the court. I’m broken in the middle of my net. I’m broken beyond repair. I’m too broken to fix.”

“Hi, my name is Dennis,” said Dennis. “I’m a tennis court. I’m broken in three places. I’m broken in the dump. I’m broken beyond repair. I’m too broken to fix.”

“I’m not broken,” said Marvin. “I’m just old. I’m a very old basketball. Everyone thinks I’m broken. But I’m not. I’ve been here at the dump for a very long time. I’m so old that I don’t know where I came from. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where my basketball family is. I don’t know who I am.”

“I don’t know where my family is either,” said Dennis.

“Let me tell you about my basketball family,” said Marvin. “I remember basketballs from my family. Basketballs come in all different sizes. Many of them are old, some of them are young. But one thing that all basketballs have in common is that they’re all from basketball families.”

“Marvin, what kind of basketball are you?” asked Dennis.

“I’m a basketball hoop,” said Marvin. “Basketball hoops look like me and they feel like me. We’re all old basketballs.”

"Have you met Courtney?" asked Dennis.

“Courtney and I are old friends,” said Marvin. “We see each other every day. We talk about our family.”

“I like Courtney,” said Dennis.

“Me too,” said Marvin.

“Dennis, do you know what I like about you?” said Marvin.

“What do you like about me, Marvin?” asked Dennis.

“You’re a good friend to have,” said Marvin.

“You’re a good friend to have too, Marvin,” said Dennis.

Dennis and Marvin became good friends. Dennis and Courtney became good friends. Dennis and Marvin and Courtney became good friends.