Chapter 18: Nature

Another offering for my faithful readers. I feel like I need to sleep more before I write, but when will I find that time?

Chapter 1: Nature
Chapter 2: Nurture
Chapter 3: Nurture
Chapter 4: Nurture
Chapter 5: Nature
Chapter 6: Nurture
Chapter 7: Nurture
Chapter 8: Nurture
Chapter 9: Nurture
Chapter 10: Nature
Chapter 11: Nature
Chapter 12: Nurture
Chapter 13: Nurture
Chapter 14: Nature
Chapter 15: Nurture
Chapter 16: Nurture
Chapter 17: Nature

How could the second day of school compare to the first? Nerves have settled. Connections have been renewed. New friendships might even have seeds planted in young hearts. And even so early in the year, some lucky kids already had something to look forward to each day. For some it was the chance to see friends. Others can’t wait to learn. Then there’s me, looking for my sister who wasn’t my sister though I felt I had known her since before she was born.

Maggie found me outside the school, so I could walk her to class. She declared this the best part of her day before we parted with a hug that reassured me she would feel exactly the same excitement on the last day of school. I returned her hug and offered a grin that mirrored her own. With one last backward glance, she disappeared into her classroom. I turned toward my own, ruminating on the expectations of a second day some more.

Teachers had been assessed. Seats had been claimed. A certain order had fallen into our young lives that summer never seemed able to offer. Of course, we weren’t orderly enough to already know the new schedule and expectations of a new classroom and a new teacher. 

Ms. Compton smiled at us from under her tight, dark curls as she gently rapped on her desk to attract our attention. Her sharp, dark eyes focused on those who didn’t immediately look up until she claimed the attention of even the most wandering minds.

“Silent reading time has ended. Not that you were as quiet as you could be, please focus on me now.”

As our minds followed our eyes to concentrate on her, a solid knock resounds from the open door. A tall slender figure stands just inside the doorframe with a smaller figure hiding in his shadow. A well-worn, dark suit hangs from his shoulders with folds of cloth speaking of weight lost since its purchase. He glanced around the room, smiling at the familiar faces that have now turned to us.

“If I may, Ms. Compton,” he gestured with his hand for an invitation to enter.

“Of course, Principal Johnson,” she smiled up at him.

He shambled into the room with his shadow slowly following in his wake. Even from my vantage toward the back of the room, his blue eyes startled me with their light shade. Shaggy golden hair fell like a fine mop over his forehead and covered them for a moment. He threw his head back to reveal those eyes once more, but he quickly tilted his gaze back toward the floor to avoid making eye contact with any of us.

The principal leaned in to whisper quietly to our teacher. She nodded understanding and turned back to the class. “We have a new student this year. Please get to know him and make him feel welcome. His name is…” she paused to look at him as her lip quirked upward, “Doll Lindquist.”

He frowned at her and turned pale, rebellious eyes toward the classroom as snickers erupted around me.

“You may sit in the empty seat next to Opera,” our teacher waved her hand magnanimously in my direction. “Raise your hand, Opera.”

I raised my hand reluctantly. Doll bobbed his head and shuffled toward me with whispered voices for theme music. The teacher turned her eyes back to the principal as he leaned in to say something more. I turned to whisper to my new neighbor.

“Your name is Doll?” I blinked as I met his unflinching gaze.

“It’s short for Rudolph. What of it?” He glared at me so severely that the chuckle in my throat stifled and faded away.

I cleared my throat and extended my hand, hoping to distract him from the shame coloring my cheeks. He grinned at me and took my hand in a firm handshake. I sighed at the implied acceptance of my unspoken apology.

“So your name is Opera?”

Now I tried not bristle at his teasing tone. “Yes, it is. What of it?”

“I like it,” he offered a shy smile.

As the teacher and principal continued their whispered discourse, other students found bravery.

“All the girls want to play with their doll,” the other boys chanted, “Especially Opera.”

 

“Cover your ears before she sings.” One of the boys chortled but no one joined in his gaiety, too dense to get it or too smart to laugh at such a poor insult.

I rolled my eyes at them and turned back to our conversation with a raised voice, “They’re just jealous.”

Ms. Compton cleared her throat. Then we realized the principal had stepped back out of the room. As if we practiced synchronicity, every student turned to face her, folding our hands in front of us on our desks.

She shook her head at us, “That was very rude of you. It is time to return to learning, but first I will remind you that we practice kindness in our classroom.”

Chapter 17: Nature

Sorry this is so short. My muses keep trying to direct me to other tales to tell, so I have been struggling to tell this particular story. I hoping to get them back on board with completing this one soon. Feel free to send inspiring treats ;)

Chapter 1: Nature
Chapter 2: Nurture
Chapter 3: Nurture
Chapter 4: Nurture
Chapter 5: Nature
Chapter 6: Nurture
Chapter 7: Nurture
Chapter 8: Nurture
Chapter 9: Nurture
Chapter 10: Nature
Chapter 11: Nature
Chapter 12: Nurture
Chapter 13: Nurture
Chapter 14: Nature
Chapter 15: Nurture
Chapter 16: Nurture

Second grade awaited.  I nervously held my mother’s hand as we left the house. By the time we reached the school, I’d calmed my butterflies enough to quickly exit the car and blow her a kiss before waving goodbye. She waved goodbye and then bowed her head a little. As she slowly pulled away in response to a chorus of honks from the other parents in carline, I swear I saw her raise her right hand to flick something from her cheek. I didn’t give it much thought as they were diverted before they could form. 

“Opera!” An excited voice greeted me seconds before a tiny figure slammed into my body with such force that we barely managed to stay on our feet.

Enveloped in a rib-crushing hug, I gasped out my own greeting, “Maggie.”

“Our school,” she exclaimed happily, gesturing toward the brick edifice as she grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bank of double doors.

A tall man with salt and pepper hair nodded at me in recognition as he opened the door for us, “Have a great first day girls.”

“We will! We will!” Maggie exclaimed excitedly, squeezing my hand with surprising strength.

“You know we’re not in the same class, right?” I try to stem the tide of her enthusiasm.

“But we’re in the same school, so I get to see you.”

I smiled and squeezed back, “In the mornings, at least. I can walk you to class.”

“It’s this way,” she enthusiastically agreed by dragging me down the hall to a doorway in which a familiar face stood smiling at us.

“Opera, I didn’t know you had a baby sister. I should have guessed though,” my former kindergarten teacher, Ms. Madison beamed down at us, taking in our clasped hands and excited smiles.

“She’s not my sister,” I looked down at my shiny new shoes.

“But I should be,” Maggie assured her.

“Sometimes friends become the sisters we pick,” Ms. Madison says sagely, “It was nice to see you again, Opera.”

I hugged them both and then hurried down the hallway toward my own classroom.

Chapter 15: Nurture

Chapter 1: Nature
Chapter 2: Nurture
Chapter 3: Nurture
Chapter 4: Nurture
Chapter 5: Nature

Chapter 6: Nurture

Chapter 7: Nurture

Chapter 8: Nurture

Chapter 9: Nurture

Chapter 10: Nature

Chapter 11: Nature

Chapter 12: Nurture

Chapter 13: Nurture

Chapter 14: Nature

Mother sighed as father and his friends crammed the last load of boxes into the rental truck, “We shouldn’t have to move away from our home.”

Father stepped forward to wrap a dusty arm around her, embracing empty air as she stepped away. “Honey, we’ll make the new place home. Wherever we are with our girls will be perfect.”

She looked toward us, our hands linked together and ready for adventure. Her eyes rested fondly on me for a moment before settling on Maggie with adoration. She reached out to help Maggie into the car as father offered me his hand.

“I guess anything is worth it if we can still keep them happy.”

I smiled up at her reassuringly as we rounded the car. She didn’t see it. She rarely noticed much about me unless someone else pointed it out to her or I stepped into Maggie’s spotlight. Lately, the move had taken over her every waking hour. I was used to feeling overlooked but hoped our new home would magically bring me back from the brink of invisibility.

The apartment had three bedrooms. Our parents got the slightly larger master bedroom with tiny en suite bathroom. Dad would use one of the others as his home office. Maggie and I chose which one we would share. It had soft green carpeting like a dense layer of moss on the forest floor. When confessed the reason for our choice it, father offered to paint the walls blue like the sky. Mother vied for pink, but Maggie won her over in the end.

As father started the car, mother turned toward us, “Say goodbye to the old house.”

“Goodbye,” we repeated obediently.

Father’s friend who was driving the truck waved back and tooted the big truck’s horn. Then we pulled away from the curb. My sister and I joined father in looking ahead toward what was coming. But mother watched the house until it disappeared from view. Then she blotted her eyes and turned on the radio. Father glanced at her as if he wanted to ask something, but she shook her head. As Maggie and I felt too excited to speak, the radio provided the soundtrack for our arrival at our new home.

—-

Mother sighed again. It became her signature sound that year. She never actually complained, just sighed heavily to remind us all that her life had fallen apart.

“Livvie, please,” father whispered as he tilted his head back toward us and raised his voice, “Yay! We’re here!”

“Here!” Maggie parroted excitedly, squirming to get free.

“We’re here!” I joined the chorus.

Our parents hopped out to release us and we all looked back toward the main street, waiting for the truck full of our worldly possessions which had been deemed worthy and able to fit into our new home. Mother held Maggie close to her heart while Father restrained me with one arm. The other hand blocked the sun from his eyes as he peered anxiously into the distance. We were rewarded as the large yellow truck turned the corner and pulled into two spaces near us with unnecessary grinding of the brakes. I cringed. Maggie covered her ears and started wailing.

“It stopped, honey, it stopped.” Mother whispered over and over until the cries faded into dull whimpers.

“Sorry,” the driver contorted his face apologetically as he leaned in to reassure my sister, “It’s okay, I’m just not used to the brakes on this beast. Probably best I only have to drive it back to the depot after this, huh?” 

He mugged another face for her benefit and she forgot her fear enough to laugh with him.

“That’s what I like to see. A happy little girl who gets to sleep in her new bedroom tonight, surrounded by all her familiar stuff, eh?”

“Stuff!”

I still wonder if Maggie meant to express understanding or if she liked to repeat words that sounded fun to her at that age. Her vocabulary has improved greatly between then and now.

“Let’s get the girls’ room setup, so they can play while we work,” Uncle Bert suggested as he hopped down from the passenger side of the truck.

Mother lowered Maggie to the ground, “Take your sister’s hand.”

She didn’t need to ask us twice. We gravitated toward each other and clasped hands. We huddled close to the side of the car to watch her grab her bag and put it over her shoulder. Then she started digging around in there, which excited Maggie. She started dancing in place.

“Candy?”

“Not now, honey, I need to find the keys,” Mother gave an exclamation of success as she pulled her hand out of the bag with them jingling at the end of a large plastic house that flopped in her hand.

She rolled her eyes at the ridiculously large “gift” from the realtor and reached out her free hand. I took it and followed obediently, holding tightly to Maggie as we cut across the parking lot. Father and his friends’ voices faded as we neared the large brick building. The facade had been recently updated to reflect a distinguished charm, but it was lost on the eyes of those disappointed in their lot in life and on small children who are more interested in claiming their new home in whatever creative way strikes their fancy.

We let my mother into our plans almost as soon as she opened the door. Without letting go or exchanging a single word, we raced across the barren living room toward the patch of light left by the window in our very own bedroom. As soon as we stepped into the light, we froze for a second. This time we exchanged a single word.

“Dance?”

We nodded in agreement and started dancing in the light. Our audience of one watched us for a moment, enchanted by our silent dance party. Then she pulled out her phone, selected a playlist and joined us in the dance. Normally, an adult joining such a party might break the magic spell of childhood, but in that moment, when she allowed herself to be free, we loved her more. Her freedom and our dance party didn’t last long.

“Oh good, she left the door ajar,” Uncle Burt’s voice carried over the music.

Mother rushed to turn it off and brush stray hair back from her eyes before they reached the door. She just barely made it. 

“Girls, come stand with mommy,” she gestured for us to step out of our patch of light.

We didn’t want to, but the intense look on her face convinced us. Moments later Uncle Burt backed through the door, balancing one end of a jumbled mass of wood. Father held the other end, calling out directions to help Burt avoid whacking into anything sneaking up behind him. They navigated through our patch of light and gently placed the bundle on the ground, detaching the tape from the pieces and beginning a discussion about how best to turn them into our new bunk beds.

Then Jimmy appeared with a toy box. He winked at us as he deposited it in the far corner of the living room.

“Don’t say I never did nothing for you, kids.”

If he expected a response, the closest thing he got was our footsteps pounding across the hardwood to see which of our plastic and stuffed friends made their way into this hiding place. We weren’t disappointed. Soon, we were wrapped up in the stories we told with our friends to help us see them better. Wrapped up in our imaginations, the activity around us barely attracted our attention for the rest of the morning.

~~

After sharing lunch with our very sweaty, but reasonably priced moving crew, our base of operations moved to our bedroom. They carefully placed each piece of furniture almost precisely as it was in our old house, except we now had a bunk bed on one wall instead of a crib and a mattress on the floor. Since Maggie was barely out of her crib, it was decided that I would sleep on the top bunk. I wasn’t sure I liked that idea, so when they closed the door behind us, I climbed up to check it out. I promptly climbed back down to where Maggie lay examining her new space.

“I don’t like it at all,” I informed her.

“Me sleep,” she offered fervently.

“You’re tired already?”

She shook her head. “Scared. Need you.” She turned those pleading eyes on me.

“You want me to sleep in your bed tonight?”

“Please?” She buried her head in my chest, wrapping her arms around me.

“Okay. But we can’t tell mother and father.”

She gave me a confused look.

“They might tell us no, so I will sneak down after they kiss us goodnight.”

“Okay.” She replied.

Then she hopped out of bed and started talking excitedly about all the familiar things in our new room. 

~~

I didn’t forget my promise despite how weary we were from the day’s excitement. Mother and Father tucked us in, showered us with smooches, and then hovered outside the door for a few minutes, listening. When their footsteps finally padded down the hall to their own room, I carefully crept down the ladder. Maggie let out a contented sigh as we wrapped up in each other’s arms to the face the unfamiliar together.

Chapter 16: Nurture