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KUNATI BOOK PUBLISHERS
Infinity Publishing
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What a Year! |
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The first day of school passed relatively uneventfully. I met some
new kids who seemed to have interesting possibilities. A few of them were boys, and new
boys are the best kind, because they haven't got a clue what you're like. Some of the new
girls seemed nice, too, but they did not occupy the most prominent position my mind.
As with the first day, the first weeks went by smoothly. My forecast for the year
appeared to be coming true. I had lots of friends, was doing well, and was happy. If we
could really tell what was going to happen beforehand, life would be ever so much easier.
I happened to mention this thought to
Mom at dinner one night. Well, you would have thought I'd murdered my brother! She jumped
up from the table, spilling her wine and my milk, and started storming around the kitchen.
"Sandy, don't you understand that
if we knew what was going to happen to us before it did, all the mystery would go out of
life! There would never be any surprises or excitement. Everything would just be dull,
dull, dull!"
Sometimes I forget what my mom is like.
She is definitely not dull, dull, dull. At times I wish she was. Mom likes excitement,
even danger. How many moms do you know who have tried hang gliding and free-fall
parachuting? I only know one, mine!
Since I knew I could never make Mom understand how I felt about her daredevil
behavior, I didn't even respond. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. I used to feel
able to open up completely, let all my feelings fall into Mom's lap, but right now that
just isn't possible. I suppose my new reticence is caused by the process of aging. I do
feel that I am aging. That's what growing up is all about. It's not the same kind of aging
that Mom worries about, but it's equally important to me. I found it difficult to talk
about this, especially with Mom.
The fact of the matter is that I was
most definitely not a fortune teller and was therefore unable to predict the future. My
first clue that things were not what they seemed was brought about by the Christmas dance.
This was our first official dance. At
our school, only the grade six students were deemed mature enough to engage in the
sinister activity known as dancing. We could dance before this, ballet, tap, or jazz
lessons, but certainly not with a partner of the opposite sex. Then magically, in grade
six, we are given the opportunity to show our maturity by having a dance.
I think there is an ulterior motive for this. I believe the powers that be,
teachers, give us this dance in order to show us that we really aren't ready to handle it.
And the sad fact is, they are usually right.
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