Shower Stories

Memories

Rosebud Sampson
12.18.10
Memories

The gray, black and faded red hexagon had once been a vibrant color. It was now dented and slightly bent in places. The long, metal pole that it sat on had once shined so brightly, reflections could be seen clearly, but that had been long ago. Presently, it was a black/gray color and had several dents scattered all over it. The biggest of the marks was positioned about halfway up the rod. Graffiti covered the sign.

I gazed at the stop sign as I had every day for that past fifteen years. I felt almost connected to the stop sign... weird as it sounds. Now, usually I am not a sentimental person, but almost every time something life changing or memorable happened in my life, it was around this sign.

I was ten years old when it was first put in on the very corner of my lawn, on Rikers street and Stevens place. Back then it looked good, fresh from the warehouse. At the time I didn't know what happened to the old one, but I later found out when I sneaked into my older brother's bedroom. He was seventeen then and was about to move out. He took the sign with him when he left. I had always wondered why he did it, but now I think I understand.

I remember skipping towards the new toy after the workers disappeared, rumbling down the gravel road. When I was a kid I climbed and explored everything I could. I didn't know it then, but I was following in my brother's footsteps. We weren't that close being seven years apart, but we were so much alike that my mama often called me and my brother, Janie. It was a hybrid of both our names, James, that's his name, and Andy. I always thought that it was kind of stupid, but James didn't mind it for some reason.

I climbed like a monkey to the top of the stop sign and grinned, enjoying my new view. I had only been hanging on the pole for a few minutes before I felt unfamiliar hands tugging at my thin ankles, making me fall to the ground. I scraped my knees and got gravel stuck in my hands. My eyes watered and my lips trembled, but when I saw who made me fall, I blinked away my unshed tears. Tommy Rogers had bullied me since we were five years old, always pushing me down and hitting me and calling me names.

Everyone liked Tommy, so nobody believed me when I told them. Not even my own mother, she was convinced we were best friends. James was the only one who even remotely considered the idea, but he always told me I had to learn to stand up for myself. Tommy raised one pale blond eyebrow, his perfect smile getting wider.

"Leave me alone Tommy," I warned him, picking myself up off of the ground and shaking out my shoulder length brown hair. I wiped the rocks off of the seat of my shorts and put my hands back on the cold metal. I wasn't going to let Tommy ruin my fun. The boy ignored me like I knew he would and grabbed my thin shoulders.

"You aren't supposed to be climbing on these things, you stupid girl," he sneered. I smirked at him and shook him off.

"I'm not a girl, Rogers. Go away." I slapped his hand away and took my stance. I just wanted him to leave me alone for once. Tommy glared at me. I knew the two things he hated more than anything. The two things most other people didn't really know. He hated being called by his last name and he hated people touching his hands.

"That's it, Andy!" Tommy shouted, startling me. His mama told me later that his older sisters had been picking on him earlier that day. Whenever Tarah and Marnie picked on Tommy, that's when he most loved bullying me. But I didn't know that at the time.

Tommy pulled his fist back and punched me square in the eye. My right eye watered, but I wasn't crying. I was too angry to cry. My eyebrows knit together into a deep frown. Tommy grinned at me shaking out his hand. He turned to walk away, but I hit him before he could. I tackled him to the ground in front of that stop sign and hit him a couple more times. Tommy was stronger than me though, he rolled out from under me and decked me in the eye a second time. I cried out, but he hit me again and again. After he'd let out all of his anger, he stood up and looked at his bloodied hands. It was the first time I'd been beat up and I was never going to let it happen again. I jumped to my feet and pushed Tommy as hard as I could into the street. I swear, even now, that I hadn't seen the car coming. I didn't see the vehicle that was about to speed through the stop sign.