Tears in the Stars

Math, Marines, and Margarine

I've been thinking up here for a long time. Yeah, I said up. Where else could I be? There's stars everywhere. Every possibility has gone through my mind. Am I being experimented on? Am I in a coma? Dead? Dreaming? I can't figure anything out. Sometimes, my memory is completely wiped of an occurrence after I actually figure out what happened. Who knows how many precious memories I've lost. Maybe I'm really eighty years old, sound asleep in my bed. If so, this is one Hell of a dream. And it's lasting way too long. Today (or at least I call it today, it seems like years) I have been remembering things more vividly than ever. I remember things about my school. My favorite subject was Marine Corps JROTC.

"GET ON THE GROUND!" My drill instructor screamed. My arms pumped my body up and then down again, my chest hardly above the ground. I let out and exhausted breath and growled as I struggled through my last push up. I stood as quickly as I could. "One hundred push ups, SIR!" I yelled. My drill instructor stomped over to me and leaned in close to my face. "You like beingthe first one up? You like leaving the rest behind? You do push ups until EVRYONE is done!" I gulped. My arms ached terribly. "Aye aye, sir!" I dropped back to the ground and started calling out, "One, sir. Two, sir. Three, sir...." until everyone had finished and the chorus of numbers and "sirs" had ended.

I love being told to do things. I can't tell you why, but I do. Every morning I'd wake up ready to be screamed at by my drill instructor. We had several, but my favorite was GYSGT Morlan. We just called him Gunny. He loved to quote the movie "Full Metal Jacket." (If you haven't seen that, by the way, you're missing out!) However, JROTC wasn't the only subject I loved.

I was a math freak. I could sit and do equations for hours. I loved figuring things out, and I loved writingout numbers and symbols. With math, everything just sort of clicked for me. I could read through a lesson, and then demonstrate for the class the same day. I wasn't smart, though. I wasjust sort of born that way. I was "normal" in every other subject. I don't remember much about them. Socially, I was just fine in school. Everyone liked me, and I pretty much liked everyone back. I was (or maybe still am) just like any other teenager. I loved to go to the mall, hang out with my friends, talk to my boyfriend on the phone 'til we fell asleep; any of the typical teenager stuff. There was something about me that was a little atypical, though. I loved to visit my best friend. No, not Shannon.  Dorothy. She was seventy years old.

She lived in an assisted living facility. She had her own apartment and staff members would come in twice a day to check on her and make sure she didn't need any help. She was in the lowest level of the care system. There were people who were quite independent, like Dorothy, or there were people who needed twenty-four seven assistance. I met Dorothy at a grocery store one day. I had walked to Roth's General Store to get milk. As I recall, it wasn't too far away. As I reached for a gallon, I heard someone mumble under their breath. I turned around, and there was Dorothy reaching for a pickle jar on the top shelf.

Over the years, she had become quite a short lady. I'm not exactly what you'd call a giant, but I knew I was definitely tall enough to get her the pickles. I walked over and stretched my arm out, grasping the bottom of the jar and scooting it to the edge. After a small amount of tiptoe-standing, I handed her the jar. "Why, thank you!" She smiled. I grinned. "Any time." She reminded me of Betty White. I wish Betty White was my grandma....anyway back on subject. Long story short she told me that there weren't enough kind people in this world and she invited me back to her home. The care center was within walking range, so I agreed to come over on Saturday. With that, we said our goodbyes and parted ways.

That Saturday, I came over as promised. "Now, I have a deal to make. Since you seem to want to help me out, I'll pay you for each chore I have you do. I can't get around quite as well as I used to." She pulled out a long list. and invited me into the kitchen. Something smelled great. I looked at the table and there was the most delicious looking turtle cheesecake I'd ever seen before. "I see you eyeing that cheesecake! It's for you! Sit." I sat down and ate some of the sweetest, most chocolate covered cheesecake ever as she explained the list of chores. I don't remember any. Except for one. Last thing on the list.