Satan's Dollar Store & other stories

Glory

(this is the third story of the "Raisinheart" trilogy)

The summer in which I turned fifteen was the longest summer of my life. It began and ended in the loneliest house in the world, my home. My sister had left for college in May, and after that there was only me. I lived on various combinations of raisins, peanut butter, bananas, carrots, cream cheese and white bread toast. My every meal was made of these, with an occasional apple or an orange soda thrown in. I hardly ever saw my parents, and they hardly ever saw each other. My father was always "working late" and my mother was busy with her women's clubs, and it was a long time before I came to know that the both of them had other lovers and nearly complete alternative lives on the side. This was none of my business, and none of each other's, for that matter. They had long since tired of the whole 'family' thing. My sister and I had known it, and more or less looked after each other, but now she was gone, and I was left to deal with the wreckage.

At least the year at school had slipped by without too many problems. All of us were small fry now; even Fripperone and Jockstrap were as lost in the enormous regional high school as I was, and I almost never crossed their paths. These giants were now relegated to the junior varsity squads, and made to run through rookie gauntlets by the older boys who lorded over them. Secretly I snickered at this change in their fortunes, and lurked sometimes after school near the practice fields to see them being put through their paces. Of the whole gang only Rags retained a sense of self-respect that year. He never said much, and didn't have to. He had a look in his eyes that no one was going to mess with, as if they sensed that any bread they cast upon those waters would certainly come back to haunt them times a hundred.

My only agony was Annie Barkowicki. I know, I know, her family had changed their name to Barnes years before, but she was still, and always would be Annie Barkowicki to me. I don't remember exactly when it was I first fell in love with her, but it could have been as early as age six, when we were thrown together in the first grade and were actually friends. We played a lot in those days, sometimes just the two of us, and sometimes with others. She came over to my house. I went over to hers. We ran around in the fields and on the playgrounds, climbing trees, exploring creeks, playing make-believe pirates, Annie always leading the way with me always tailing along. It often seemed my early childhood mainly consisted in listening to the sound of her voice, barking orders. This lasted well into the fourth grade, up until the day my family moved away for a year. When we returned, everything was different, especially Annie Barkowicki, who had become Annie Barnes in precisely that period.

I should tell you what she looked like. Shortish, straw-blond hair, pale blue eyes, short and thin and strong as a little girl, but tall and thin and strong as a young lady. While we had been the same size at six, she towered over me in the sixth grade, and by the ninth grade, the differences were far greater. She was never beautiful, but she had one of those temporary bodies that some young women seem to get; perfect in every way for one or two years, and then, a total transformation, generally not for the better. That year, ninth grade, was one of the years of her glory. And yet she was still a tomboy who mostly hung around with guys, played tackle football even, to the sheer amazement and delight of every young man in the neighborhood. She didn't act like she was even aware that all their touching and grabbing had little to do with trying to bring her down. She was elusive, though, and quick; even at that age she was faster than most of them.

There was always something to admire about Annie Barkowicki. She was friends with almost everyone. She didn't belong to any exclusive group, and seemed to be above the whole in-crowd mentality. Girls who tried to put her down found themselves suddenly very unpopular with the boys, who all wanted to be on her good side. She wasn't the smartest kid, but she tried hard in every class and truly earned every B and C that she got. She wasn't the best at any one thing, but she was always cheerful, and never gave up. There was really only one person in her whole world she had absolutely no use for, and that, of course was me. I never knew why it was that way. I didn't know why she had stopped being my friend, or why she never did want to be my friend again, and I couldn't work up the courage to ask her. She didn't exactly shun me. It was nothing like that. If I did manage to say 'hello' on occasion, she always returned the greeting, and then quickly moved on. I had the feeling that I had somehow wronged her without knowing it, and there was nothing I could do to make it up. I only wished I knew what it was!