Postage: a collection of original poems and short stories

Simple Thing

    Elle was probably too big for the swing where she sat, but it didn't matter. The sun was setting, the swingset creaking, her brother squealing as he chased around the rest of the neighborhood children. Her bare feet brushed over the moss on the ground and she stopped, for no other reason than to feel a piece of the cushiony green. There was a pillow beneath her but there wouldn't always be.

    "It doesn't mean it's permanent, though. You can always come back." I leaned against the bar at her end of the swingset, tilting my head toward her. "And there's always the summer."

    She pulled one leg onto the swing with her. "But next summer's far away. How am I supposed to go that long without you?"

    "You'll meet other people." It hurt to say that, but I knew it pained her more. "You can find new best friends, you know."

    "What does it matter? No person there will have known me as long as you." Elle rubbed her right earring, something she'd always done when she was upset. My heart hurt for her, felt sour the way a bad blueberry gave someone discouragement. Like always, Elle read my thoughts completely. "This isn't discouraging. Discouragement is having to put primer over the paint in my bedroom. Discouragement is packing up my sister's stuff because she isn't here to do it herself. It's discouraging that my brother'll start fifth grade with totally new people.

    "But this? This is flat-out disappointing. It sucks."

    I agreed wholeheartedly. "Life seems to stink that, doesn't it."

    I'd known her forever. I'd moved here and she was right next door to welcome me. I was crushed that I wouldn't be able to do the same for her. Still, I hoped there'd be someone down the line to cheer her up again, even if it meant she would forget about me.

    "Let's forget about this for now," my best friend said. She had started again on the swing like she could fly away if she kicked hard enough. But I was glad when she slowed down. I didn't want her going anywhere. "Push me," she said. I shoved her shoulder. "No, I meant the swing," she insisted and we laughed.

   

    The next morning we said our goodbyes in my backyard. Wordlessly she pulled me into a hug. We stood there for a long time, not wanting to let go of each other. This was the last day I'd curse and she'd giggle,  she'd frown and I'd smile. I miss that. I really do.

My head on her shoulder, I said, "Elle?"

"Yes?" she replied, eyes closed.

"I hate that you're moving."

"I know." She broke our hug to look down at me. "You're not allowed to find another best friend." She was funny when stern. "But you can swing with Maya. I like her."

"Thanks for your permission, Your Royal Royalness. And how come you can find a new bestie but I can't?"

"Because you get to keep the swingset." Her smile was full of discord and  bitterness. "And I'm leaving."

"Don't remind me," I sighed. "I know."