As Six Turned To Seven

The next year flows in her memory, nothing concrete. There are images, snapshots. She remembers nap time in Kindergarten. Her favorite place to lay her mat was in the block center. Students earned prizes for sleeping - and she was convinced that one day, she'd get a gold fish. The only memory The Girl has of getting a prize was a pumpkin shaped eraser. She remembers getting a "Just Say No" t-shirt - green, white writing. The class had their picture taken.

Toby was a year ahead of her in school, because of her late birthday. She thought it was fun that she had the same teacher for Kindergarten as he had had. The Girl got the same teacher he had for First Grade as well.

Summer must have melted by, in the way that Southern summers do. Hot, muggy, full of mosquitos and splinters in her feet. Perhaps they visited her grandparents an hour away. She remembers going to swimming lessons, and that her brother was in his car seat. That must have been the same summer.

First Grade dawned much the same. Memories are spotty and hazy. Incubating chicken eggs in class. Candling the eggs with a projector, and watching them hatch. Kids were invited to take them home, and The Girl wanted to so badly. It wasn't to be. Sometime that fall, her father moved a state away. There were better job offers, and it was near his family. She doesn't remember him leaving, nor does she really remember him being gone. It is simply a fact she knows.


The Girl can barely recall the move that set the ball in motion. She remembers arriving at her grandparents home, with the woman it was insisted she refer to her as Grandmother. There was a sterile white living room with a wall of mirrors and a warm wooden kitchen that holds faint but friendly memories. Eating sausage biscuits at the counter, sitting on a green and chrome barstool. Listening to the train in the distance. The Girl remembers the yard with wild strawberries and fat, bumbling bees. An old swingset that was her father's, aunt's and uncle's.

She started First Grade in her new school. She met a few friends, though Kelly and Amber stand out. With Amber, she had first sleep over. Kelly was her closest friend for many years. To her, life was simply life. A nice, safe school. Friends. Love.

In Second Grade, she remained great friends with Kelly. They were in the same class. She remembers trying to cheat on spelling tests, and listening to stories. She can recall being desperate for a perm -- only for it to fall out in hours, leaving her with waves instead of spiral. Her hair was a source of joy; long, thick and brown. There were sleepovers, and school nights at the skating rink.

Between these vaguely happy memories though, was when it began.