Old Enough

As you know, I have had this notion that I am very smart; my teacher has repeatedly said this to my grandfather, Paw-Paw, and Pearl our housekeeper, cook, and my wanna-be Aunt for years. I have been told I talk too much and all summer have made it my goal to just shut my trap. I thought I was clever, getting a way with things like sneaking down to the rail road tracks which are super forbidden, studying hobos, or as my best hobo pal Hank says, "train jumpers", however Clara, Pearl's niece and my new best friend and blood sister says, "school smarts and street smarts is different."

What I have learned in twenty-four hours at Pearl's house by observing and following Clara around so far is I was a heathen, (but now thanks to Clara hosing me down, I am saved), a good whooping on my derrière could straighten me up real fast, and family is everything. The sad part is my best friend and I are separated by invisible walls and rules made by mean old people who say black and white skinned children can't play together, not even go to the same school. Clara calls my white part of town, Yonderville and if I were just a little bit older I would hop on a train with Hank and get the heck out of this dumb, stupid town.

Meanwhile, I am waiting with Clara for her cousins, Jolly and Bertie, to come by with their Momma. We've just been sitting here taking turns giving her great- grandmother, who we call Smacky Lips, sips of sweet, iced tea ('cause she can't do anything but cry about old memories, eat mushy food and twiddle her thumbs).

Clara points at the front door giggling, "Knockity-knock, well look who's here May? It's the cootie carriers!" The screen door opens and we take off running out the back door with Jolly and Bertie right on our tails. I follow Clara as we sprint down the cracked cement sidewalks, jump passed men with no jobs drinking from paper bags, laughing until our side's ache and hide behind a thrown out couch full of bulging springs just at the edge of the scraggly tree line. The same shady place where she and I rubbed our scratched, tiny wrists together yesterday and became official blood-sisters.

"Phew, we can rest now; they won't catch us 'cause Jolly has asthma and Bertie is afraid of going passed her Momma's hemline." Clara seemed to return to being a kid like me now. All morning since Pearl left to do whatever she does at my house, like ironing, washing floors, changing Paw-Paw's bed before he comes home from the hospital and such, Clara had taken on a more adult like way, she was serious with her chores, dutiful and had a way of making me feel cared for, even safe without a walking, talking adult around other than Smacky Lips, that is.

I was hungry and knew Jolly and Bertie's Momma was coming by to make sure we ate a good, warm lunch before Pearl came home at four o'clock. Part of me wanted Pearl to show up and announce I could sleep over again because Paw-Paw needed more time to recuperate after his procedure; yet another smaller part of my soft side wanted to go home and crawl back into my comfort zone where being just a kid blind to the real ways of the world had it's benefits.

I have learned that once you see something differently, you can't deny the knowing. You can't just kick it to the side like an old can of beans and go back to doing nothing, not without guilt or being flat out dumb. I made up my mind I was gonna have Clara to my house to play, no matter what my old, white, fart neighbours thought, she was my bestie and that ought to count for something.

Clara poked me, "you worry wortin' again smarty pants?" I smiled and shook my head no, because I had a plan now, a plan that would ensure we stayed friends for life. Once I explained everything to my wise and gentle Paw-Paw he would fix it; I was sure of that.

Slowly we walked back to the house. I'd lost my fears of being stared at by all the black neighbors; most all had lost their curiosity about me anyhow once the word got around the streets that I was being cared for by Pearl. One thing I noticed is that she was given a lot of respect by everybody, and for this, I was proud that somehow, in some way, I was part of her, too.

The jealousy I had in the beginning, that is, Clara was her her real niece, not me, and the envy I carried for all the family being near and sharing meals, stories, laughter and life had faded. I knew even if I lived in Yonderville, I was welcome anytime at the kids table with Clara, Jolly and Bertie.

Inside, Jolly and Bertie had already started on their second grill cheese sandwich and their Momma gave us a "get in here" look. We already knew we had to wash our hands fast. At our little card table Jolly kicked me and teased me about my freckles and Bertie whispered to Clara, who whispered to me that Jolly had a crush on me. Of all things, my first sleepover, my first best friend and blood-sister and now a boyfriend? Some things have to take a backseat. Jolly would have to wait.