Writer's Cramp Entries

Childhood Blues

Prompt: It has been a long time, but you are finally going back to see your childhood hometown. What is different? (What secret do you learn?) Who do you run into? What happens? Write a story or poem about your discoveries.
Runner up Entry 01/15/06
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“Eeeeek! I don’t believe it! Is that really you?! Oh my goodness! You look…womanly!”

Sarah Hill reaches for my hands and grasps them tightly, moving closer until her big blue eyes are the only things I can see. I flush and accept her enthusiastic handshake, her warm breath of Juicy Fruit and rose perfume mingling and assailing my senses. I stagger backwards a little and almost fall on my ass and all the while, she’s still babbling away.

“I can’t believe you finally decided to come back home after all these years!”

“I…I know…” I say while laughing nervously and looking down the sleepy street. It’s a Saturday morning and yet only a few townsfolk are brave enough to wander around. There’s the familiar scent I’ve always associated with Middleton and that’s the smell of bread. I know it’s weird, since the only bakery around here is several miles away from the bus station but still, it’s there. A smell I will always associate with the backwater town I spent the first fifteen years of my life.

Sarah tugs me restlessly, and I comply, listening to her rattle off things that I can’t even begin to comprehend at this time. I take a good look at her, noticing that her once long and straight blonde hair is now short and wavy. Although she’s still slender, her hips have widened a little – a result of two babies who now live with her husband in Montana – nasty divorce.

Sarah’s been my only link to Middleton since my family moved away twelve years ago. She was my best friend from kindergarten to high school. We shared just about everything together and people had often mistaken us for real sisters. I had expected our communication to dwindle as the years went by, but Sarah was never one to miss my birthday or any major holiday in general. She would always write and would end her letters in the same way.

Come back home, Sandy.

“Congratulations on your book!” Sarah exclaims, jarring me from my daydream. We are in her car now, driving down the neat streets with its unique lampposts and cobbled sidewalks.

“Thank you,” I reply, feeling a bit self-conscious about it. Receiving praise and compliments isn’t one of my strong suits, ironic since I tend to get that a lot these days. I can’t help the smile that comes to my lips as I notice the building we are about to pass by. How can I ever forget that small tower on its roof, where I had spent countless hours with Sarah, pretending we were princesses trapped in a castle?

“The library. It hasn’t changed much,” I mutter.

“Yep! And you won’t guess who’s still in charge of the place.”

I gasp in surprise. “Don’t tell me. Mrs. Garrison’s still…?”

“Yep!”

“She must be ancient by now!”

Sarah giggles. “Not so ancient. Her kids help. Remember her cute son we used to have a crush on?”

“Yes…” I blush at the memory. I think I still have my diary of personal thoughts about Todd Garrison.

“He got married to Denise Berger two years ago. I think I wrote about it to you…”

No, you didn’t. I’m embarrassed at the slight pang of jealousy I feel. It’s not as if Todd and I ever had a chance. He was almost ten years older than me at the time!

“Anyway, you won’t believe what happened a few weeks ago.”

“What’s that?”

“Remember old Mr. Haddad? The one with the creepy smile who lived around here somewhere?”

I look out the window again, nodding softly as we pass through a boulevard of lush trees. We are in the main residential area now, where the houses are trapped behind huge walls and iron gates. My heart beats a little faster for I know I’m about to see my home soon.

“What about him?”

“They say he died in the arms of his lover.” She grins, eyes alight with mischief. “Barbara Sheridan.”

I choke in shock, listening to her loud laughter. “Barbara?! But she’s young enough to be his daughter!”

“You mean granddaughter!” That has us cracking up for a while and suddenly I feel hot tears of happiness and yet sorrow fill my eyes. It’s like nothing has changed between us even though we’ve been apart for so long. I wipe my eyes quickly, hoping she doesn’t notice and as she brings the car to a stop, I know that I’m finally home.

She smiles warmly at me and points towards the bungalow and all of a sudden I can see my father watering the lawn, my mother holding out trays of cookies to Sarah and I as our happy laughter fills the morning air. I am unaware that I am crying again until I feel her arms around me in a fierce hug.

“I bought it after our house burnt down,” she whispers.

I look at her in surprise. “Sarah…”

“Hey, I couldn’t let that greedy McPherson take it apart,” she says around a blush. “And besides, it was a second home to me. Now, come on! I’ve got some scones and coffee brewing. Don’t want to take it when it’s cold.”

She steps out of the car and waits for me to join her, but as she walks up to the doorway, she stops and looks contemplative for a moment before grinning mischievously again.

“Ah, one more thing I forgot to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

“You might want to steer clear of Nicole Smith. You remember her don’t you?”

“She’s still here?”

“Yes, she is!” Sarah says, laughing as she opens the door to let me in. “She refuses to believe you’re a girl and still carries a torch for you. Oh, I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees how…womanly you’ve become.”

I flush at the insinuation, remembering how flat and unshapely I was even till my teenage years. I know I didn’t help matters with my love for jeans and t-shirts and was often mistaken for a boy because of it. However, to think that another woman might have those kinds of feelings for me…now that is one childhood reunion I am beginning to dread.


Word Count: 1039