Old Enough

My best friend and her cousins know the time is coming for me to say goodbye, for now at least, when we see a new yellow taxi cab pull up and Paw-Paw stands up and waves to the driver. What a spectacle for the whole darn world, my big white Paw-Paw, post hernia procedure standing next to our small chestnut colored Pearl; heck, they even hugged.

The neighbors haven't stopped watching this wild show in black and white; they're making up their own subtitles and stories in their nosey minded heads. To be honest, which just so happens to be another goal of mine right now, that is to be forthright in the eyes of God, I never knew people found the color of another's skin so dang peculiar. Ever since I was "temporarily saved from my sins" by my best friend forever, Clara, with a water hose that is, truth is plain and simple.

Pearl has packed my "just in case bag" full of dirty clothes and instructed me to put all my things in the dirty clothes basket when I get home. Clara's cousins just stare and Clara who has been full of mouth ever since I arrived is silent. She's moving dirt around with her sneakers and looking at the ground. Paw-Paw hollers for me to hurry to the taxi cab and then Clara grabs my arm right at the wrist where we made our sisterhood vows and gives me a great big hug. Her cousin Bertie hugs me at the same time, then my sort of boyfriend Jolly, squeezes in and puts his long, skinny arms around us all. We huddle like we're a football team and Clara says, "family for life" and my eyes start to swell with tears. Clara always says, if you're gonna cry, save the tears for a real good cause. I think being part of her family is a real good cause, that is except for getting whooped.

Waving out the back window until I can't see Jolly's black dandelion hair anymore I turn and look straight ahead as we drive back to Yonderville.

~

Back in Yonderville it feels sunny, shiny, and easy. I follow Paw-Paw up the sidewalk and he unlocks the door. The house smells familiar as lazy, summer nights. Nothing has changed yet a lot has changed within me in twenty-four hours. Paw-Paw turns on the tv and resumes his favorite spot on the sofa in his boxer shorts and undershirt while I dump my dirty clothes into the washing room basket as Pearl had told me to. I run down the hall and take a look at my big bed, all of my games, clothes and my green and pink wall paper. I see a whole lot differently now; I see I have a lot more than Clara and Pearl yet I feel shorted, empty and a longing that I can't describe.

As much as I want to keep my new vows to be a better girl in every way, I know it takes a few trips to a proper church before it's going to sink in. As soon as I hear Paw-Paw start to snore I have one last thing to do before the sun starts to set.

I get some chalk and draw hopscotch squares on our sidewalk and do it a few times then take off running toward the train tracks. I use my same old route, careful to avoid the poison oak; I quiet my steps and scrunch down to see who else might be here. Well, what do you know, it's Hobo Hank! Why I have missed him I don't really know; in his sun browned face was a whole lot of stories that I longed to hear. In my pocket I have sugar cubes and when I see Hank drop his nap sack and lay down in the shade I make my move. He'd just pulled his cowboy hat over his eyes when I tip toed to his side.

"Boo!" Hank sat up and scared the living daylights out of me. See, a real hobo or train jumper as he says, always keeps an ear to the ground and one eye open. "Well hello sunshine, how's you this fine evening?" I tell Hank all about my first sleep over, about becoming a blood sister and how me and Clara made tiny scratches in our wrists and rubbed them together. I tell him all about Jolly my "not really boyfriend" and his crazy jokes, about Clara's great-grandmother aka Smacky Lips and being whooped, saved and Paw-Paw's hernia. As I hand Hank a gob of sugar cubes he slowly pops them in his mouth and lets them melt and smiles with his lips closed and winks. The sun is making shadows now and Hank says, "Well little lady, for the first time you had more to say about your adventures than asking me all about mine. I'd say your summer has proved to be quite entertaining." I paused and realized Hank might be right. I had not asked him once where he had been, what he had seen or where he was headed next. I had my own stories to tell for once. I felt I had in some way travelled to a new place and world as far away as Hank, perhaps our love of discovering life from other angles was something we had in common.

Hank told me he'd be around a few days and as always to "git on home"; I noticed he'd lost more teeth and was skinnier than ever. "I gotta shut my eyes and rest my bones, everybody knows the best night music starts when the stars are out and the crickets sing." I wanted to hug him but he did smell an awful lot, plus, knowing Hank he'd not like that kinda thing. I handed over my last bits of sugar and retraced my footsteps home.

I sat on the front steps as dusk set in, my mind wandering across bridges and fences straight into my new memories. If I could change anything, it would not be just the fourteen miles between me and Clara's but the divisions between us that this whole messed up world has created. As the crickets chirpily chirp, one thing I am grateful for is that my best friend can hear them too.