memoryFirst day of Kingergarten
Riverside, CA
Sitting on a swing, a voice broke through my daydream of becoming a bounty hunter of pirates someday. I didn't like distractions when tucked away into my imaginary world and I definately didn't like this voice making it's failed attempt at singing. I wrinkled up my little button of a nose and glanced around in hopes of finding the source of such racket. Someone needed to put an end to it soon. There was no sense in allowing a scratchy voice hurt the ears of others and distract them from important endeavors such as dreaming big. Must I always be saving the world, I thought as I remembered my nickname was sometimes "someone" and other times "anyone."
I sighed in exasperation the way my mother always had, the exhalation of breath blowing a red tinged blonde curl from view. My gaze landed on the source all right, just a few swings down from me. The boy's voice was positively awful as he squacked his abc's out, always skipping the "c" and "z" and that just wasn't okay. His face was aglow with pride as if he knew exactly what he was doing.
I finally decided to scramble from my thrown so I could confront him before a headache of irritation could develop. As I stood before him, I regarded him through squinted eyes, my hands going for the no-nonsense attitude on my hips my mama always gave me whenever I annoyed her. See, I knew what I was doing.
"You can't sing."
The sound of my voice seemed to put an end to it. Well, at least the singing. The boy's turquoise gaze swept over me before dropping from his barely swaying perch. We glared at each other for a few minutes. My chin was raised, half in defiance and half in.... well, he was a couple inches taller. (Okay, I lied - a few.)
"I can so."
"No you can't. You're doing it all wrong. You keep skipping the "c" and "z" and you can't do that. And you sing.... sucky. Just fix and then maybe I'll let you sing."
"Shut up. I can so sing. I don't gotta fix nuthin'." Push.
He pushed me? He pushed me! My jaw dropped in that "how dare you" manner as I simply stared at him. I recovered quickly enough to say, "Well don't get your name on the board about it. Just fix it."
"No." Again he pushed me, putting in enough strength to have me stumbling backwards.
Before I could even think of retaliating in any way, however, he was shoved to the ground by another boy about the same size as Annoying.
"Hey, don't push him," I cried out and ran to stand between the pair. Boys, I thought as I rolled my eyes. Having two older brothers educated well enough on the subject.
"He pushed you first," retorted the Boy-Who-Thought-He-Was-Helping-But-Wasn't.
"So, two wrongs don't make a right." I offered my hand to Annoying to help him up, but he just sat there looking like he was in shock.
"Who said?" asked the Boy-Who-Thought-He-Was-Helping-But-Wasn't.
"My mama did and she's always right."
Annoying finally took my hand and pulled himself. up with as little help from me as possible when the non-helper finally stalked away without another word. It was probably because the teacher had us under serveillance at that moment. For how long, none of us knew or cared. Just as long as our names weren't placed on the board.
"I didn't need your help," said Annoying.
"Oh well. I helped you," I said with a little smile. "What's your name?"
"Tristan. Yours?"
"Cheriah."
"That's a weird name."
"Mama calls me Cherie instead 'cause it's easier. You can too. She said it means dawling in Rance."
"What's Rance?"
I shrugged indifferently. There were just too many possibilities, so I answered the best I could. "Some place far, far away.... like where Peter Pan goes."
"But that's Never Land."
Another little shrug. "You call in Never Land and I'll call in Rance."
