pretend / ~ summer of 1999

writing prompt 351 / pretend

Childhood. Playing orphans in the woods on Pawpaw's Mountain. Bread, cheese, and apples in basket with a dishcloth. Shooting pieces of wood, bringing them back, a rabbit or deer for dinner. Building up a fire of twigs surrounded by rocks. Eating nuts. Collecting random greens and dandelions, creating a salad. Running from the police trying to take us back to our orphanage. And finally returning to the big white house to find a mom willing to take us in.

Galloping up and down our road, whipping our horses with foxtails. For hours. Stirring red berries and leaves and flowers and monkey grass into our soup of water. Laying in bed late at night, while stuffed animals delivered sermons on our knees. Playing animals with Graham on the trampoline and on the back porch in summer.

Spraying each other with the hose on the trampoline. Shielding ourselves from the rain of arrows, as the water came shooting down from the hand of Garrett at the hose. Risking our lives to save the other from the fatal blow of a water balloon. Giddy at the pleasure of saving another's life.

Endless games of Barbies. Dressing for a ball. Gossiping at a church picnic. Going to the ball. Playing intense games of soccer. Being chosen by the only guy at the ball. The excitement of friends bringing their own plethora of Barbies over. Again, the ball scene. Except this time with two guys. Donna, Emily, Frank, Pam. Sporty girl.

Switching identities with Abby for a night. Wearing each other's way too big Southeast shirts. Coloring in the laundry room floor, calling each other by our own names. Rotating through my stuffed animals every night, not wanting them to feel offended or unloved.

Attempting time after time to jump into those ridiculously appealing Barbie sticker books. So. Many. Times. So confident that, this time, it will work. Praying that it would work. Cleaning up our room with my purple wand. Getting in trouble because we were taking so long trying to clean up with the wand. Snapping at the messes in our rooms like Mary Poppins.

Sneaking away from everyone, going to the back of our art cabinet, or pushing through the coats in our coat closet. Believing, knowing that this time it will take me to Narnia. Leaning out the open window in the school room upstairs. It's spring and the breeze is gentle, stirring the tops of budding trees. I'm stuck inside doing school, but looking out the window imagining myself as an eagle, free and swooping over the trees and up into the blue sky on a perfect day like today.

Running down the dirt trail in summer, feet hard, tanned and brown. Knowing every slight bump, every protruding root, light on my feet as a deer.

It was a dream. It was perfect. It was a childhood unblemished. It was pretend.