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THE SUMMER I MET MY BEST FRIEND

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The ancient house with the wildly overgrown garden is silent and secretive. It has been over fifty years since I lived in this town. I lived on Fellowship Road. My backyard faced Wilke’s backyard.

Old House

I can’t believe that this house is still standing, mostly intact. As I peruse my childhood memories from the early 1950s, I remember Wilke’s house looked decrepit then. I  simply can not understand how it still exists. Everything around it has changed. Almost all the homes on Poplar Avenue have either been replaced by newer homes or updated and look unrecognizable.

I have such wonderful memories of sitting under our Willow tree on a hot Summer’s day and reading a Nancy Drew mystery. Dreaming about my distant future when I, too, could become a famous female detective and solve crimes.

Occasionally while I was reading, Mrs. Wilkes would beckon me from her yard. There was shrubbery between Wilke’s backyard and ours that served as a fence that divided the two properties. But I could hear her calling out my name, “Sandy come over here. I have something to give you.”

And I would jump up and run over to the bushes. And she would be standing there with her toothless smile and her shining, green eyes. Her long gray hair would be braided and wrapped around her head. Sometimes she would braid a blue ribbon in her braid. Occasionally she would add a rose or daisy from the garden she had in her backyard. I thought she was beautiful.

On this particular afternoon, she said to me, “Sandy would you do me a favor and taste this chocolate cookie for me? I have trouble chewing them. And I want to make sure they taste good. My grandson, Francis, is coming to stay with us for the summer.”

“Sure, I would be happy to taste it.” She held out a cookie to me in her crooked and gnarled hand. I took a huge bite. “I think this is the best cookie I’ve ever had. Francis will like it. I can’t wait to meet Francis.”

I love looking at Mrs. Wilke’s backyard. The Wilkes spend almost all their free time working outside in the garden whenever the weather is warm. On the other side of the hedges, they planted a rose garden that follows a winding path throughout their back yard and continues into their front yard. There are over fifty different kinds and colors of roses. I know because one day, Mrs. Wilkes asked me if I would like to come into her backyard and smell all her beautiful roses. The aroma was overwhelming. And bees and butterflies are always visiting her garden.

On her side of the bushes, there are morning glories that bloom all summer. Early in the morning, I would run out to the bushes in the backyard to see what color the morning glories were that day. And I would pick one and give it to my mother.

My mother would put it in a glass of water and place it on the kitchen window windowsill. They are my favorite flowers. But the most beautiful thing in her garden was an ancient Weeping Willow tree that stood twenty feet taller than their old house. Mrs. Wilkes told me that it was planted by Mr. Wilkes’s grandfather, and it was the oldest tree in our town.

I love visiting Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes because they always had time to listen to me. They would sit quietly while I told them one of my stories. The summer that their grandson Francis spent there was one of the greatest summers I ever had. Francis was about ten years old, and he had bright red hair with freckles sprinkled across his face. His ears stuck out on either side, and the other kids used to make fun of him. He had the same beautiful green eyes that his grandmother had.

I spent the entire morning that Francis was supposed to arrive sitting in my backyard and reading a book. Somehow I know that Francis is going to become my best friend. I keep looking up from my book. it’s a Nancy Drew book called The Clue From The Old Wall. And it was really exciting. Nancy was protecting a treasure that was hidden in an old wall from thieves. I love reading Nancy Drew’s books because girls are hardly ever portrayed as heroes in all the books I read.

I’m having a hard time concentrating because I keep looking over at the Wilke’s to see if their decrepit old pickup truck is pulling into their dirt driveway. Their truck is so old that all the paint had been worn off by the rain, snow, and wind. But somehow, I believe it is the most beautiful truck I’ve ever seen.

Finally, after what seems an eternity, I hear them coming down Poplar Avenue. I know it’s them because I could hear their truck before I see it. It backfires every couple of minutes. It sounds like it is on its last legs, but somehow it keeps going just like the Wilkes. They pull into their driveway and slowly descend from their seats. I see a red-headed boy jumping down out of the bed of the truck with a small suitcase. That is being held closed by what looks like an old belt.

I practically jump over the bushes and manage to get scratched from head to toe. But I don’t care. I run through their backyard and up to the front. I’m yelling at the top of my voice, “Francis, your here, your here.” He looks over at me with a surprised look on his face. Because he doesn’t know who I am and how I know his name. I see the Wilke’s beautiful, wrinkled face transformed by their ear-to-ear smiles. I run over to Francis and give him a squeeze around his waist. His face turns red, but he is still smiling.

Mrs. Wilkes says, “Francis, meet your new best friend, Sandy. She lives on the other side of our backyard, and she has been waiting impatiently for you to arrive. Francis looks at me with a shy grin on his face and says,” Hi, Sandy. I’m happy to meet you.”

I look at him and say,” we’re going to have so much fun this summer. We can go swimming at the pond, ride bikes and go downtown to the shops. Especially the bakery. I just love donuts, do you? And we can roller skate on the sidewalk. And we can go to the clay pits and dig for fossils. You’ll love it here. I can hardly wait for the 4th of July. We can go downtown and ride our bikes behind the band and throw candy at everyone along Main Street. And you can meet all my other friends that live on Fellowship Road. Not to mention all my friends from school. This is going to be a great summer, you’ll see. I said this all in one breath without stopping. Francis had a huge smile on his face now, and so did the Wilkes. Oh, I almost forgot we can go to Schucks to buy penny candy. I love candy so much. And they have a jute box in there. And we can watch all the teenagers dancing. Oh, I almost forgot, on Saturdays we can go to the movies at the Roxy theater. It’s right on Main Street. It only cost a quarter. I bring my lunch with me, Lebanon Bologna and cheese. I’ll bring two, one for me and one for you.

Mrs. Wilkes laughs out loud and say’s,” doesn’t that sound great, Francis?”

“Oh, I almost forgot, there is also a bus that picks kids up at the front of the police station and takes us to the Riverside skating rink. You can rent skates if you don’t have any and skate all day for fifty cents. I always fall down about a million times. But I don’t care. It’s fun.”

Francis looks at me and then turns around and looks at his grandparents his eyes are as big as saucers, and his smile is from ear to ear. He says, ‘can we go downtown? I would love to see it. I live out in the country, and there isn’t much to see there except blueberry farms.”

“How about bringing your suitcase into the house and getting settled and having something for lunch? I made homemade chicken noodle soup, and I can make grilled cheese sandwiches. You’re invited to Sandy, but go ask your mother first?”

“Oh, I’m sure she won’t care.”
“Go ask first. All the same, Sandy.”
“Alright, I’ll go ask. I’ll be right back.”

And in less than five minutes, I was knocking at their back door. I had never been inside their house before. My house was about fifteen years old. But their house was old, really old. They used to have a farm, but they sold the land to the church when they stopped farming. The church made the land into a parking lot.

And that day was the beginning of the best summer of my whole childhood. Francis and I became best friends. And we kept in touch for many years. And then, in 1969, Francis got drafted into the army, and he was sent to Viet Nam. It was one of the saddest days of my life when I heard he got killed there. His grandparents had passed away years before that. I was always glad they didn’t have to face the loss. After that first summer, he spent every summer until he was about sixteen when the Wilkes passed away, one right after the other.

And now, here I am, visiting my old neighborhood, and I swear I can see Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes smiling out at me from their porch. I feel tears pooling up and running down my cheeks. I smile back at them, and they wave goodbye to me, and then they’re gone. I turn away and walk past the house where I lived my entire childhood and where strangers live now. And I think I was the luckiest kid in the world. I had a wonderful childhood, especially after Francis and I became best friends. The Wilkes and Francis will always live in my heart and my memory.

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THE SUMMER I MET MY BEST FRIEND

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The ancient house with the wildly overgrown garden is silent and secretive. It has been over fifty years since I lived in this town. I lived on Fellowship Road. My backyard faced Wilke’s backyard.

Old House

I can’t believe that this house is still standing, mostly intact. As I peruse my childhood memories from the early 1950’s, I remember Wilke’s house looked decrepit then. I  simply can not understand how it still exists. Everything around it has changed. Almost all the homes on Poplar Avenue have either been replaced by newer homes or updated and look unrecognizable.

I have such wonderful memories of sitting under our Willow tree on a hot Summer’s day reading a Nancy Drew mystery. Dreaming about my distant future when I too could become a famous female detective and solve crimes.

Occasionally while I was reading, Mrs. Wilkes would beckon me from her yard. There was shrubbery between Wilke’s backyard and ours that served as a fence that divided the two properties. But I could hear her calling out my name, “Sandy come over here. I have something to give you.”

And I would jump up and run over up to the bushes. And she would be standing there with her toothless smile and her shining, green eyes. Her long gray hair would be braided and wrapped around her head. Sometimes she would braid a blue ribbon in her braid. Occasionally she would add a rose or daisy from the garden she had in her backyard. I thought she was beautiful.

On this particular afternoon, she said to me, “Sandy would you do me a favor and taste this chocolate cookie for me? I have trouble chewing them. And I want to make sure they taste good. My grandson, Francis is coming to stay with us for the summer.”

“Sure, I would be happy to taste it.” She held out a cookie to me in her crooked and gnarled hand. I took a huge bite. “I think this is the best cookie I’ve ever had. Francis will like it. I can’t wait to meet Francis.”

I love looking at Mrs. Wilke’s backyard. The Wilkes spend almost all their free time working outside in the garden whenever the weather is warm. On the other side of the hedges, they planted a rose garden that follows a winding path throughout their back yard and continues into their front yard. There are over fifty different kinds and colors of roses. I know because one day, Mrs. Wilkes asked me if I would like to come into her backyard and smell all her beautiful roses. The aroma was overwhelming. And bees and butterflies are always visiting her garden.

On her side of the bushes, there are morning glories that bloom all summer. Early in the morning, I would run out to the bushes in the backyard to see what color the morning glories were that day. And I would pick one and give it to my mother.

My mother would put it in a glass of water and place it on the kitchen window windowsill. They are my favorite flowers. But the most beautiful thing in her garden was an ancient Weeping Willow tree that stood twenty feet taller than their old house. Mrs. Wilkes told me that it was planted by Mr. Wilkes’s grandfather, and it was the oldest tree in our town.

I love visiting Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes because they always had time to listen to me. They would sit quietly while I told them one of my stories. The summer that their grandson Francis spent there was one of the greatest summers I ever had. Francis was about ten years old, and he had bright red hair with freckles sprinkled across his face. His ears stuck out on either side, and the other kids used to make fun of him. He had the same beautiful green eyes that his grandmother had.

I spent the entire morning that Francis was supposed to arrive sitting in my backyard and reading a book. Somehow I know that Francis is going to become my best friend. I keep looking up from my book. it’s a Nancy Drew book called The Clue From The Old Wall. And it was really exciting. Nancy was protecting a treasure that was hidden in an old wall from thieves. I love reading Nancy Drew’s books because girls are hardly ever portrayed as heroes in all the books I read.

I’m having a hard time concentrating because I keep looking over at the Wilke’s to see if their decrepit old pickup truck is pulling into their dirt driveway. Their truck is so old that all the paint had been worn off by the rain, snow, and wind. But somehow I believe it is the most beautiful truck I’ve ever seen.

Finally, after what seems an eternity, I hear them coming down Poplar Avenue. I know it’s them because I could hear their truck before I see it. It backfires every couple of minutes. It sounds like it is on its last legs, but somehow it keeps going just like the Wilkes. They pull into their driveway and slowly descend from their seats. I see a red-headed boy jumping down out of the bed of the truck with a small suitcase. That is being held closed by what looks like an old belt.

I practically jump over the bushes and manage to get scratched from head to toe. But I don’t care. I run through their backyard and up to the front. I’m yelling at the top of my voice, “Francis, your here, your here.” He looks over at me with a surprised look on his face. Because he doesn’t know who I am and how I know his name. I see the Wilke’s beautiful, wrinkled face transformed by their ear-to-ear smiles. I run over to Francis and give him a squeeze around his waist. His face turns red, but he is still smiling.

Mrs. Wilkes says, “Francis, meet your new best friend, Sandy. She lives on the other side of our backyard, and she has been waiting impatiently for you to arrive. Francis looks at me with a shy grin on his face and says,” Hi Sandy, I’m happy to meet you.”

I look at him and say,” we’re going to have so much fun this summer. We can go swimming at the pond, ride bikes and go downtown to the shops. Especially the bakery. I just love donuts, do you? And we can roller skate on the sidewalk. And we can go to the clay pits and dig for fossils. You’ll love it here. I can hardly wait for the 4th of July. We can go downtown and ride our bikes behind the band and throw candy at everyone along Main Street. And you can meet all my other friends that live on Fellowship Road. Not to mention all my friends from school. This is going to be a great summer, you’ll see. I said this all in one breath without stopping. Francis had a huge smile on his face now, and so did the Wilkes. Oh, I almost forgot we can go to Schucks to buy penny candy. I love candy so much. And they have a jute box in there. And we can watch all the teenagers dancing. Oh, I almost forgot, on Saturdays we can go to the movies at the Roxy theater. It’s right on Main Street. It only cost a quarter. I bring my lunch with me, Lebanon Bologna and cheese. I’ll bring two, one for me and one for you.

Mrs. Wilkes laughs out loud and say’s,” doesn’t that sound great, Francis?”

“Oh, I almost forgot, there is also a bus that picks kids up at the front of the police station and takes us to the Riverside skating rink. You can rent skates if you don’t have any and skate all day for fifty cents. I always fall down about a million times. But I don’t care. It’s fun.”

Francis looks at me and then turns around and looks at his grandparents and his eyes are as big as saucers, and his smile is from ear to ear. He says, ‘can we go downtown I would love to see it. I live out in the country, and there isn’t much to see there except blueberry farms.”

“How about bringing your suitcase into the house and getting settled and having something for lunch? I made homemade chicken noodle soup, and I can make grilled cheese sandwiches. You’re invited to Sandy, but go ask your mother first?”

“Oh, I’m sure she won’t care.”
“Go ask first. All the same, Sandy.”
“Alright, I’ll go ask. I’ll be right back.”

And in less than five minutes, I was knocking at their back door. I had never been inside their house before. My house was about fifteen years old. But their house was old, really old. They used to have a farm, but they sold the land to the church when they stopped farming. The church made the land into a parking lot.

And that day was the beginning of the best summer of my whole childhood. Francis and I became best friends. And we kept in touch for many years. And then, in 1969, Francis got drafted into the army, and he was sent to Viet Nam. It was one of the saddest days of my life when I heard he got killed there. His grandparents had passed away years before that. I was always glad they didn’t have to face the loss. After that first summer, he spent every summer until he was about sixteen when the Wilkes passed away one right after the other.

And now, here I am, visiting my old neighborhood, and I swear I can see Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes smiling out at me from their porch. I feel tears pooling up and running down my cheeks. I smile back at them and they wave goodbye to me, and then they’re gone. I turn away and walk past the house where I lived my entire childhood and where strangers live now. And I think I was the luckiest kid in the world. I had a wonderful childhood, especially after Francis and I became best friends. The Wilkes and Francis will always live in my heart and my memory.

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THE OTHER SIDE of HAPPINESS

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The ancient Buick hustles down the dirt road. A cloud of dust swirls up on either side of the black car and paints it a dirty gray. In the back window, a young girl presses her face against the window. Tears stream down her pale face leaving trails on either cheek. Her body trembles in her struggle to suppress the sob that tries to escape from her heaving chest.

She counts to ten on her fingers over and over again. Her eyes tightly shut blocking out the burning light of the early morning sun. A single word escapes her lips, “home.”

“Sit down in your seat girl, there’s a long ride ahead of us.”

Giant Sunflower

Sunflower by ONZE greatvitijd Pixababy

She takes a deep breath, and with all the strength that remains in her lagging spirit, she sits back in the seat. She gulps air through her open mouth and wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

She imagines walking up the path towards her house and through the red door. She sees her mother standing at the counter loading dishes into the dishwasher. She’s singing Walking After Midnight along with Miss Tammy Wynette at the top of her voice. She’s at the part where she wails out, I saw a girl that looked a lot like Billie Joe McAllister standing atop the Chocktoe Ridge.

Her mother is swinging her hips and is lost in the moment feeling every word and note of the song. When she sees Charlie, she dances up to her and sweeps her up in her arms, and continues singing and dancing.

After what seems a lifetime the car pulls onto an even more primitive road that’s little more than gravel on dirt. It’s full of ruts and the car bumps and swerves its way down the narrow path. Then makes its way up to a driveway paved with broken seashells. “Well, here we are. I want you to be on your best behavior while you’re here. You’re lucky we found someone in your family to take care of you while your mother is away. Otherwise, you would have ended up in foster care.

“Someone in my family, who, who is it? I’ve never been here before.”

“It’s your great-aunt, well actually she’s your grandmother’s sister so she’s your great, great aunt. Your Aunt Charlotte, your mother spent most of her summers with her when she was a kid.”

Charlie gets out of the car and stood stiffly next to it. She started counting to ten on her fingers again.
The woman from Social Services grabs Charlie’s bag out of the deep trunk of the old Buick and heaves it out and drops it on the ground. “Good lord child what have you got in here, rocks?”

Charlie shuffles her feet from side to side and shrugs her shoulders.

“Well let’s go then. It’s a long ride back.”

The woman picks up the duffle bag and walks toward the front door. She rings the doorbell. After a few minutes, they hear someone coming to the door and then suddenly the door flies open. And there stands an old woman not much bigger than Charlie. She has her long white hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. She’s wearing old jeans and a flannel shirt that hangs down to her knees. Her ears are pierced and have long feathers hanging from them. Her wrinkled face is dusted with flour. There’s a smile on her face that seems somehow familiar to Charlie.

“Well, here you are, and just in time for lunch. I made some fried chicken and homemade chocolate chip cookies. They used to be your mother’s favorite. Oh, where are my manners, come in, come in.”

“Hello, Miss Tremont. Would you like to stay for lunch? I made plenty?”

“Thank you, Miss Charlotte, but I have to be on my way. It’s a long way back. Here’s my card, if there are any problems please call me. I’ll keep in touch with you ”

“Goodbye Charlie. I know you’ll be fine here with Miss Charlotte. Be a good girl. Please don’t worry. Things are going to be ok.”

Charlie stares first at the lady and then at the old woman, her hands behind her back counting. She nods at the lady and waits for someone to tell her what to do. Silently begging them to tell her where her mother is and when. When will she be able to go home? But no one does. So, she just stands there and waits. The old woman walks over to the door with the lady and whispers things to her. Things Charlie can’t make out.

The old lady comes back over to Charlie and takes her hand. “Come on Charlie I’ll show you where the bathroom is, don’t forget to wash your hands. Here you go dear take your time. Then come on in to the kitchen and we’ll eat lunch.”

When Charlie finishes using the bathroom, she’s drawn to the kitchen by the tantalizing smell of fried chicken. She follows her nose and finds herself within the confines of a kitchen unlike she had ever seen before. It’s big and bright. The walls are painted the color of sunshine. There’s a ceiling made of tin with an amazing design of birds in flight. In the middle of the ceiling is a big fan. The fan’s paddles look like they are made out of giant leaves. The curtains are blue with white lace along the edge.

But the aroma, the aroma is unbelievably fragrant and enticing. Charlie feels as if she could stay in this room forever. Comforted by the good smells of fried chicken and homemade bread and chocolate chip cookies. “Well have a seat, Miss Charlie. I can’t tell you how much I have looked forward to having you stay here with me. You’re most welcome. Please help yourself while we get to know each other. Go on now don’t be shy.”

“I’d like to tell you a little bit about myself since I didn’t have the opportunity to meet you before. I’m your Mama’s great Aunt but since my sister passed long before your mother was born, I was fortunate enough to take her place. You know you look a lot like your mother. Those deep brown eyes and that shy smile. Yes, you look so much like her when she was your age. You know she used to spend every summer here with me and we became great friends. I hope you and I will do the same. Are you enjoying the chicken? Would you like to ask me any questions?”

Charlie looks up at her with her deep brown eyes but doesn’t say anything at first. Then a single tear flows down her cheek. She nods her head.

“Charlie you can talk to me. I promise I won’t bite.”

“Where is my mama? When can I see her again? Why am I here, and when can I go home?”

Aunt Charlotte rises quietly from her chair and comes over to Charlie and kneels down and puts her arms around her. “Oh, Charlie dear, hasn’t anyone explained what has happened?”

“No, a policeman came to my school and took me. Then I was taken to a building where a lot of other children were staying. It was really loud, and I was afraid. I had to stay there for a long time. I kept crying for my mother. But no one told me anything. Then one day the lady that brought me here came. She told me that I was going to stay at my aunt’s house for a while and today she brought me here.

“Charlie your Mama isn’t feeling very well right now. She is in a special kind of hospital, but she’s going to get better and you’ll see her again soon. But until then you’ll stay here with me. You’ll be safe.  I promise, no one is going to hurt you here. I’m going to take care of you. Just like I used to take care of your Mama when she was your age. Did you know that you are named after me? Your name is Charlotte, just like me. Your Mama sent you here to stay until she feels better again, ok.”

“You promise, my Mama is going to be alright, and she will come get me? When?”

“I don’t know exactly when Charlie, but I promise she will come and get you. You and your mother will be together again. Now, how about some of those cookies? Let me get you a glass of cold milk.”
The next morning Charlie wakes up to the smell of bacon cooking. Oh, how she loved that smell. Mama didn’t cook it very often because she said it wasn’t a very healthy food. Charlie ran over the dresser and pulls out a pair of shorts and a shirt and put them quickly on. She pushes her feet into her sneakers and runs down the steps toward the smell.

“Well good morning sunshine, how are you feeling this fine morning?”

“Fine, I’m starving. I smell bacon. I just love it. Can I have some?”

“Of course, you can. I made it a special treat since it is your first morning here. Would you like some eggs too? I can make them any way you like them.”

“Really, yes Mama and I only had eggs on Sunday. Can you make scrambled eggs with the bacon mixed in?”

“Why that was your mother’s favorite too. Of course, you can, have a seat. Would you like some orange juice to go with your eggs? How about you make the toast. There’s the toaster on the counter. That will be your job in the morning.”

“Charlie, I thought that while you’re here this summer that I could really use your help with my vegetable garden out back. I grow all kinds of vegetables, tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, and some herbs. I have a fig tree, and raspberries and strawberries, and some wonderful blueberries. But this year I decided to grow something special. Your mom always loved helping me. What do you think? Are you interested?”

“I guess, but I don’t know anything about gardening or growing things. We live in the city in an apartment.”

“Well, Charlie, it’s not hard. I’ll show you how to do it. Why don’t we finish eating? Could you help me with the dishes? How about I’ll wash, and you dry the dishes? Then we’ll go outside and get started.”

“Yeah, I guess so. My mom and I never had to wash dishes at home. We have a dishwasher. I never knew anyone who didn’t have one. Are you poor?”

“Well, Charlie, it’s true I don’t have a lot of money. But I have always been rich in the things that matter. I live in a beautiful place, and have plenty of sunshine and fresh air and wonderful friends. I’ve always felt those are the things in life that make you happy. It’s a simple life, but a good one. Now let’s wash these dishes and get busy outside.”

“It’s a beautiful day today Charlie, look at that sky. A blue and white sky my favorite kind.”

“Blue and white, what do you mean?”

“Well, just the right amount of blue sky with those wonderful, fluffy white clouds. It’s a miracle really.”

Charlie looks up at the sky and sees the clouds set against the clear blue and realizes she never really noticed the sky before. In the city, the sky is filled with skyscrapers and noise. People yelling, and cars beeping and the air is different; the air in the city isn’t clear it has a color all its own. She misses all the activity, the life that hustles and bustles around her on her street. It’s too quiet here. She misses all her friends.

“Why is it so quiet here? Where are all the people and cars?”

“Well, Charlie, I guess it does seem quiet to you after growing up in New York City, but you’ll see once you start listening, you’ll hear all the sounds of nature and realize that life is busy all around you.”

Charlie looks around her and at first, doesn’t notice anything moving. Then all of a sudden, she sees a rabbit hopping across the backyard. “Is that a rabbit?”

“Yes, I call her Tilly, because she’s always digging up my vegetables. But I don’t mind sharing some with her. It’s so much fun watching her and her babies running around the yard.”

“She has bunnies, oh where, where are they?”

“Be quiet and you’ll see them come out and follow their mother around eating the clover in the grass. And if you look over there at that big oak tree you’ll see Ozzie and Harriet. They’re squirrels, and they’re the best acrobats I’ve ever seen. They can climb a tree in a blink of an eye, and hang upside down by one leg. Oh, there’s Ozzie right now at the very top of the tree. Watch how he jumps from one limb to another. ”

Charlie tilts her head back and she sees at the very top of the tree a squirrel jumping from one limb to the other. She holds her breath thinking he’s going to fall for sure. But he doesn’t. He runs down the trunk of the knurled old tree and chases Tilly from one end of the garden to the other.

“Come one Charlie we’re going to plant some seeds today. Let’s go have a look at the garden. We can decide where we’re going to plant all the seeds. As they walk across the garden Charlie can hear all kinds of birds singing. She hears one bird singing in the most beautiful bold voice. What kind of bird is that, the one that sounds like it is singing pretty bird, pretty bird over and over?”

“Oh, that sounds like a bird called the Brown Thrasher or a Cardinal.”

“Can you see him?”

“Yes, that’s him right there in that big tree over there next to that shed.”
“Oh yes that’s a Cardinal, isn’t he a beauty. He serenades me every morning and sometimes again in the evening. You know I have a little book with pictures of the birds that live in this area if you would like to read it. You can look at the pictures and the description of the birds and learn to identify them and the songs they sing. Would you like that Charlie?”

“Yeah, sure I guess.”

“Alright, Charlie here we are. As you can see, I already prepared the garden for planting. I turned over all the soil, and I added nutrients to it. I make my own compost from leftover foods and plants and soil.”

Charlie had no idea what compost is, but she didn’t want to admit it so she just listens and hopes she’ll figure it all out. What kind of plants are we going to grow in the garden?”

“Well, I thought we would plant tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, lettuce, cabbage, and carrots. But I thought this year we would plant something special.”

“What’s that? What do you mean?

“Well, two things really. We’re going to plant pumpkins for the Fall. And something almost magical, I think. Giant sunflowers, they’ll be tall enough to tower over your head and mine and then some. The sunflowers will finish growing at the end of summer, and the pumpkins will be ready by Halloween. Won’t that be fun? Here let me show you the seeds. Charlotte held out her hand and small black and white seeds were in the palm of her hand. See these Charlie; from these little seeds, a giant flower will grow almost as big as a tree. And it will grow in just a few short months. It’s really amazing what can happen given the time and love.”

“Months, I ‘am going to have to stay here for months?”

“I know it seems like forever to you now, Charlie, but I promise you the time will pass more quickly than you realize. And in that time our garden will grow and produce wonderful things for us to eat and in that time your mother will get better. You’ll see her again soon, Charlie, I promise.”

“You promise, I’m going to be with my mom again?”

“Yes, Charlie, I promise. I will always tell you the truth. Now let’s get busy planting our garden. Let me show you how to plant the seeds.”

Every morning Charlie wakes up early, as soon as the sun shines through her bedroom window. She jumps out of the bed and runs over to the window. She sees Ozzie and Harriet chasing each other high in the tree. Leaping from one branch to another as graceful as any trapeze artist in the circus. She throws on her clothes and runs down to the kitchen to see what delicious meal her Aunt Charlotte has created.

Today it is homemade oatmeal with raisins and cinnamon. Charlie never liked oatmeal before, but Aunt Charlotte make it fresh with cream and brown sugar, and cinnamon. It is always wonderful and her tummy feels warm and content when she is finished. “Aunt Charlotte, this tastes really good. Can I go out to the garden now?”

“Well, yes, you can Charlie as soon as you brush your teeth. I’ll be out there in a little while as soon as I get the dishes washed and put away.”

Charlie runs into the bathroom and gives her teeth a quick cleaning. She can’t wait to see how her garden is doing now. Yesterday the pumpkins were as big as her head growing on long vines that trailed all over the garden. But the sunflowers were her favorite and yesterday one of them looked as if it might open its petals to the sun.

As Charlie runs out through the screen door of the back porch she can see that one of the sunflowers is blooming. Its bright yellow face turns up towards the warm light of the early morning sun. It is so tall it is towering over her head like a skyscraper. And on top of the sunflower sits Red singing out Pretty Boy, Pretty Boy at the top of his tiny lungs. In between songs he is pecking at the center of the sunflower. “What are you doing Red? Don’t ruin my sunflower.” Charlie runs back into the house and into the kitchen. Aunt Charlie Red is killing my sunflower, please come outside and stop him.”

Aunt Charlotte walks out to the garden and sees Red is atop the tallest sunflower and sees he is eating the seeds. “Oh, Charlie he isn’t killing the sunflower he’s just eating his breakfast. The whole center of the sunflower is full of seeds. That’s why I covered the tops of the other sunflowers so the birds wouldn’t take all the seeds. But I left the big one for the birds to thank them for bringing our garden to life with music. We have to share our bounty with our friends.”

“Alright, Aunt Charlotte, can I pick some of the vegetables and bring them into the house?”

“Of course, Charlie, I really appreciate your help. And when you come in, I have a surprise to share with you.”

“Really, what is it, Aunt Charlotte?”

“Well Charlie, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now.”

Charlie spent the morning picking the ripe red tomatoes, and glossy green peppers. She picked a cucumber that was as big around as her arm. She picked the long-string beans from their vines and finally some snap beans. Oh, how she loved to shell the beans. When she was finished, she turns on the sprinkler to give all her vegetables a drink.

She picks up the wicker basket that is almost too heavy for her to carry. Before she goes back into the house for lunch, she takes one more look at the giant sunflower. She can’t believe that this enormous flower grew from the tiny black and white seed.

As Charlie struggles through the porch door she sees her Aunt Charlotte standing at the stove. “Aunt Charlotte, wait until you see all the beautiful vegetables that I picked. They are the best ones so far. Look at how big this cucumber is.”

“Oh, Charlie that’s a beauty, you have become such a wonderful gardener, thank you so much for your help. Why don’t you go in and wash your hands? I’ve made a special lunch for us. I made grilled cheese sandwiches and homemade vegetable soup made from our very own vegetables.”

After Charlie washes her hands she looks into the mirror and sees that she’s smiling. She realizes that she is happy, and for a moment she feels guilty. But she knows in her heart that her mother wants her to be happy. That’s why she sent her to stay with her Aunt Charlotte. Because she had spent such wonderful and happy summers with her Aunt, she wanted the same for Charlie.

“Oh Charlie, there you are. Are you ready for your surprise?”

“Yes. Yes, what is it?” And that’s when she sees the sweet face of her mother walking through the doorway and into the kitchen. “Mommy, Mommy you’re here. I missed you so much. Charlie throws her arms around her mother and swears to herself that she will never let her go again.

“Oh, Charlie I missed you so much. I’m so sorry that I had to leave you. I promise I’ll never leave you again. Why don’t we sit down and eat what smells like a wonderful lunch? I have missed eating Aunt Charlottes’ food very much.”

After lunch, Charlie and her mother went upstairs and pack her things and get ready to leave. Suddenly Charlie feels sad at the idea of leaving Aunt Charlotte and the farm and Red and Ozzie and Harriet. She realizes she won’t see the sunflowers anymore or see the pumpkins grow large.

“Oh, Charlie dear what’s the matter?”

“Mommy I’m going to miss Aunt Charlotte so much. And I won’t see Red, and Ozzie, and Harriet again. I won’t see the sunflowers and the pumpkins.”

“Well, Charlie in life sometimes we have to lose something to gain something. But I promise you that we’re going to come back here to visit Aunt Charlotte. We’ll come here at Halloween to carve the pumpkins, and at Thanksgiving to eat pumpkin pie. Now let’s go give Aunt Charlotte a big hug and tell her how much we love her.”

As they hug Aunt Charlotte, Charlie wipes a tear from that threatens to run down her cheek. “Thank you so much, Aunt Charlotte. I love you so much. And I loved staying here with you. Mommy says that we’re going to come back and visit you at Halloween and Thanksgiving.”

“I know you will child, and I look forward to that every day until then. I’ll save some sunflower seeds for you and you can find a place in the city to grow a giant sunflower of your own.”

As Charlie looks out the back window of the car she smiles at the giant sunflower and her Aunt Charlie who is waving goodbye she looks so tiny standing next to the giant sunflower.

__________________________________________________________________

Red, White And Blue, You Got It Made In The Shade

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I awoke that morning with a great sense of anticipation. I could hear the soft whirring of the fan that was so large it blocked the view from the one window in the bedroom. I shared the room with my three sisters. My twin sister, Karen, was still sleeping in the bed next to me, she was a sound sleeper, and it took something like a bomb going off in the room to wake her up.

Photo by Big Bear Vacations on Pexels.com

My older sisters, Eileen and Betty, were out to the world too. I could smell the bacon my mother was frying, and the coffee brewing in the kitchen. We usually only had a big breakfast on Sunday mornings, but the Fourth of July was a big deal, and a cause for celebration in my town, Maple Shade.

It was 1960; I was nine years old that past May. I had been looking forward to the Fourth of July. My parents felt I was now old enough to ride around town on my bike and see the parade, with all the other big kids.

I quickly threw on the clothes that I had carefully chosen the night before. I put on my white Keds sneakers, red top, and navy-blue shorts. I jumped down the steps two at a time, and rushed into the kitchen and sat down.

My father looked up from his morning paper and said,” what’s the rush, Susieque?”

I stared at him. He had on his usual banlon shirt, with cigarettes in his pocket. It did have red and white horizontal stripes, but there wasn’t any blue in sight.” Hi, Daddy, it’s the Fourth of July, did you forget?”

My mother, who still had her hair set in bobby pins, looked over at me and said,” hold your horses, Susie, you have plenty of time for all that. I’m making breakfast. How about some scrambled eggs and ham, and toast?”

“Of course, I want scrambled eggs and ham Mom, you know it’s my favorite and lots of butter on my toast!” I licked my lips in anticipation.

My dad laughs and says, “Wow, she must be hungry today; she usually eats like a bird.”

Just then, my twin sister, Karen, steps into the room, and quips, “yeah, a vulture!”

I pouched up my face and told Karen, “shut up.”

My mother said, “Susie, you know better than to tell your sister to shut-up. You aren’t allowed to tell anyone to shut-up.”

“Sorry, Mom,” I said. But I wasn’t sorry at all. When my mother turned her back, I stuck my tongue out at Karen.

She immediately said,” Mom, Susie stuck her tongue out at me.” I mouthed at her, ‘Tattle tail.’

“Ok, that’s enough, or neither one of you will be going to parade.” My father said gruffly.  Karen and I knew better than to argue after that when my father got that tone in his voice, we knew he meant business and to be quiet.

My father went back to the paper, and toasting the bread, which was his job whenever my mother made a big breakfast for the family. My mom walks over to the steps and yells up to my sisters, “get up, it’s time for breakfast, Eileen and Betty.”

By the time they got up out of bed and came down for breakfast, Karen and I were already finished eating, and out the side door. Karen and I were twins, but we didn’t look alike, and we had different friends.

We got on our bikes and went in a different direction, without even a wave good-bye to each other. My mother calls out the kitchen door, “be back on time for lunch.”

I rode over to my best friend, Joanie’s house. It doesn’t take that long because she only lives three houses away. I got off my bike and put down the kickstand and immediately start yelling at the top of my voice. “Joan, Joanie get up, come outside it’s the Fourth of July.” No response, so I yelled again, Joan, Joan, get up!”

That was a mistake, because that’s when her father, Mr. Gioiella, came out, and he was only wearing his boxers. He yelled at me, “For the love of god, go home. Why are you always here at the crack of dawn, waking everyone up, go home, you practically live here.”

He looks like an angry hornet. “Sorry, Mr. Gioiella, I didn’t mean to yell so loud. I’ll wait for Joanie to come out.” Joanie likes to sleep in on mornings when she doesn’t have to go to school. In fact, sometimes she even slept until lunchtime. It wasn’t unknown for her to stay in bed all day and read. I liked to read too, but I read after dinner. I wouldn’t dream of sleeping away on a Saturday or a holiday.

Joanie finally comes out about a half-hour later. She’s wearing blue shorts with a shirt that looked like it was made out of an American Flag. I gawk at her, with my mouth open,” Joan, I think its disrespectful to wear the flag.”

Joan looks at me like I came from another planet and says, “everyone does it now, Susie, you’ve got to keep up with fashion.”

Fashion, I think. What the heck is she talking about? Just about everything I wore has been worn by one of my older sisters before me, including my school uniforms. I was lucky if I got a new Easter outfit. As it was, my father would buy my sister Karen, and I, boy’s shoes, because he thinks they last longer.

He was right, no matter how I tried to destroy those ugly shoes, they wouldn’t wear out. My current shoes look like bowling shoes and are a weird olive green. I always insist that Karen is lucky because her feet grew fast. Karen got new shoes twice as often as I did. She says she doesn’t feel lucky because her feet are getting so big!

Joan carries the streamers we had bought together at Ben Franklin’s 5 &10 Store the other day when we had walked down the pike. It’s Red, White, and Blue, of course. We had been planning on how we would decorate our bikes for weeks. We were going to ride in the 4th of July parade, with just about every other kid in town.

Joan’s bike is almost new. She got it for her birthday last August. My father had bought my bike used and then spent about a month, fixing it, and painting it. I thought it was beautiful, because he painted it in my favorite color, red.

We wove the streamers in and out of the spokes of the wheels, and cut short pieces and tied them together and put them on the end of our handlebars. I had also borrowed four of my fathers’ poker playing cards, which we attached with clothespins to the spokes on the wheels. When you rode, the cards made a fantastic snapping noise.”

Let’s go, Joanie. We have to get their early so that we can get a good place in line at the parade.” I thought it’s always better to be early than late. Joan is always late.

We ride down to the end of our street Fellowship Road. We make a left turn past the Rectory, at our school, Our Lady of Perpetual Help Elementary School. We’re heading towards the police station, which is attached to the library. That’s where all the kids are meeting up.

I can see that some of the older kids are there already and lining up. I see some of my friends riding toward us from the other end of town. Joan and I jump off our bikes and started walking towards them. Several kids yell, hello. And then Robin Schultz, this boy who makes my life miserable in school saw me, and yells, “look who’s here, it’s Susan Carburetor.”

God, I despise that kid. Every day he makes fun of me, calling me Susan Cranberry or Susan Carbuncle. I’d like to accidentally ride him over with my bike. My name is Susan Carberry. Is that so hard to say, you nitwit? Of course, I don’t say this out loud. He would probably smack me upside my head. He was a bully.

Joan says to me,” ignore him, Susie, he is a creep.” I probably should take her advice, but I was pretty sure one day soon, I was going to exact my revenge. I have been planning it for a long time, and he is going to get what was coming to him very soon, even if I had to stay after school and clap erases for the rest of my life as punishment for breaking one of the ten commandments.

I don’t think even Jesus would be that forgiving, and turn the other cheek if he had to deal with Robin Schultz every day of his life. For now, I’ll bide my time, and I settle on just sticking my tongue out at him.

Joan and I ride over to the kids we know and look at how they decorated their bikes. They were pretty cool, at the same time I was thinking of some new ideas for the next Fourth of July parade. I always look for new and creative ways of doing things.

Just then, Mr. Lombardi, my next-door neighbor, who’s a Maple Shade cop, blows his whistle and tells everyone to line up. They’re going to start the parade. It seems like most of the town was there, old people, babies with their coaches decorated. Most people were waving miniature flags.  They are all yelling hurrah, hurrah.

A lot of people had lined their folding chairs up along the Main Street days ago so they would get a good view of the parade. All the firemen from several towns are there with their newly washed fire trucks, and some old guys that must have been born about the same time as the dinosaurs were there with their old cars.  Beauty queens sat perched in the back seat of these old cars. They’re stuffed in their older sisters old prom gowns or bridesmaid dresses with stiff crinolines underneath. I was glad I didn’t have to wear anything like that, and I vowed to myself that no one would ever force me to wear such a monstrosity.

Then come the high school bands, girls in short skirts with batons twirling in the air, at the end of the parade were the veterans of foreign wars, who somehow managed to squeeze into their World War II, and some even from WWI uniforms.

All the kids are in turn excited, and bored because of the long wait. We all look

out into the crowd to see if our parents were there to see us. I see my older sisters on our corner waving, so I wave back and point at my patriotic red bike.

After the parade, Joan and I go down Main Street to the vegetable store. They have a snow cone cart out front. We treat ourselves to root beer ices. I love to watch them scoop out the ice; it looks like real snow. Then they pour your choice of flavor out of a tall bottle with a metal spout, be it vanilla, root beer, chocolate, or cherry. It tastes so great. After you eat all the root beer flavored ice, you tilt the paper cone and drink the unbelievably sweet juice at the bottom.

It’s so hot and humid outside, and we were in the shade. We took our time riding home and make plans to meet up after dark to see the fireworks.

After dinner, Joanie and I meet on the sidewalk in front of her house. We’re deciding what we would do. Then we hear Mr. Softee truck playing its familiar tune from the end of Fellowship Road.

We have each squirreled away some money in anticipation of its arrival, which signals the real beginning of summer for us. We decide to ride our bikes to the corner on Popular Avenue. There are ten kids standing in line ahead of us. As we wait, we decide what we were going to buy.

In my house, ice cream is a treat we only got on special occasions. I decided on a sugar cone with vanilla custard and dipped in chocolate. I loved the first bite into the hardened chocolate and the sweet first taste of vanilla custard.

Joan says, “are you crazy, sprinkles are the best.”

Everyone is excited, and there’s the buzz of their talking, and the longer we wait, we notice the buzz of hungry mosquitoes. For some reason, mosquitoes just loved me. And they’re landing a mass attack on my bare arms and legs, and even managed to bite my face a couple of times. Joan shares her mosquito wisdom with me, “ whatever you do, don’t scratch the bites, it just makes it worse.” I knew this, but could never stop myself from scratching myself raw.

“I hear putting peanut butter on the bites, makes it stop itching, Susie “

“Peanut butter, why would that work?

“I don’t know, but it does!”

At this point, I’d covered myself in peanut butter from head to toe if it kept the little bloodsuckers off of me.

Just then Mr. Softee pulls up, and I can almost taste the ice cream in my mouth, I keep thinking, I can’t wait, I can’t wait! After we got our ice cream cones, we see the mosquito truck coming towards us.

So, Joan and I decide to follow it around town, while we eat our cones, some of the other kids came along too. This is as much of a summer tradition for us as catching fireflies in mayonnaise jars. We ride our bikes behind the trucks as it sprayed a mist of bug spray. All the kids in Maple Shade did it. We thought it was great fun.

When we got back to Joan’s house, Joanie tells me she had a surprise for me. She runs in her house, and when she comes out, I see she has a box of sparklers in her hand. She had a box of matches in her hand. She lit the first one; just then, her older sister, Elaine, comes out.

” Oh boy, are you two going to get it when Daddy finds out you are using matches, I am going to tell.”

Elaine is a tattletale, every time Joan and I are having fun, she tells on us, and gets us into trouble. She’s a jerk, and bossy, just because she thinks we’re babies, she was two years older than Joan and in the seventh grade.

Just then, we start to hear the fireworks. We can see them high in the sky above Maple Shade. All the kids that live on the block are outside, and some of the adults. They’re oohing and ahhing every time the lights hit the sky.

“Wow, Joan, this has been the greatest day ever. I can tell we are going to have a great summer. How about going to Strawbridge Lake tomorrow, and having a picnic?” Just then, I hear my mother calling,” Susie, it’s time to come in now.” I yell back,” in a minute, Mom, see you tomorrow, Joan,” ride down the street to my house.