This is the one story I actually got paid for. I don't know if it ever got published though. I got $60.00 from the Friend. Does that make me a professional writer? : P Short career. . . .It is also based on an actual event from my childhood. I was about 5 years old. Not my finest hour--but one I learned a powerful lesson from. A good lesson to learn at an early age I guess--Don't be a snotty little brat!
"Naa naa ne naa naa," I taunted as Susy ran away down the sidewalk.
Susy was my friend, but today I had a new friend, Tina, who had just moved in across the street. Tina had curly brown hair and blue eyes that sparkled when she laughed. She liked all the games I liked, and we had played together all afternoon--at least until Susy came. Then I said I didn't want to play with her and Tina didn't either.
It wasn't that Susy wasn't fun to play with. We had spent many hours that summer climbing the big tree in her yard and riding our bikes down the sidewalk. Sometimes we jumped on my trampoline with the sprinkler on underneath or shared banana Popcicles--our favorite flavor. I could have invited Susy to play. I just didn't want to.
Susy stared at us. Her coppery hair shone in the sunlight and her big green eyes reflected surprise and hurt. A tear slid quietly down one freckled cheek. She brushed it angrily away.
"You're rude," Susy said crossly.
"You're a cry baby." I said.
Tina laughed.
"Let's go," I said.
We ran away from Susy, but she followed us out onto the sidewalk in front of my house and stood some distance away glaring at us. That's when I yelled at her, "Naa naa ne naa naa." I felt triumphant as I saw her turn to leave and I laughed as I taunted her. I couldn't remember having ever been mean before, but it made me feel powerful watching Susy run away. I knew she was leaving and now Tina and I could be best friends.
Suddenly Susy turned. Her green eyes blazed through her tears. In a sudden fluid motion she reached for the ground, and gripping a small stone she found there, hurled it toward us. I felt a sharp stabbing pain as the stone hit me in the forehead. Susy looked at me wildly for a moment and then she ran away. I felt a bit dizzy. Looking down at the sidewalk I saw a drop of crimson staining the grey cement.
"Oh, Jenny," Tina said, "you're bleeding. We'd better get you home."
Tina led me along and I walked bent over, watching the red drops leave a trail. My mother was sitting on the back porch watching my little brother play with little cars and talking to a neighbor lady, Mrs. Barnes. All I could see were the legs and feet of Mrs. Barnes which were bare on this hot summer day, and tan. Her toenails were painted a bright red--brighter than the drops that kept hitting the ground.
My mother exclaimed, "Oh, what happened?" and jumped up to get a gauze pad to try to stop the bleeding.
"I got hit by a rock," I explained quietly.
"What? How did that happen?"
Suddenly, I felt ashamed. I remembered what I had done to Susy. "I don't know." I lied.
Mom's face was worried. "This looks deep," she said. "I think we'd better have it looked at."
Before I knew it, Mom had me in the car and was heading towards the doctor's office. I sat silently holding the gauze pad on my head. All of my bravado was gone. I was scared and I felt awful. It was my fault. Warm salty tears dripped down my nose and onto my jeans where they left damp spots. I noticed that there was blood there too.
The nurse took us right in and I had to lie on a table covered with white paper that crackled when I moved. Soon the doctor was there, Dr. Hiatt. He was wearing a white coat, his black hair was slicked back from his face and his brown eyes were concerned but kind.
"Well, let's have a look," he said.
After a moment he addressed my mother, "Well, we're lucky it wasn't a bit lower. She might have lost her eye. As it is, the scar will be in her eyebrow, so it won't show too much, but we'll have to stitch it. It will take five or six stitches to close it up."
Dr. Hiatt put a white cloth over my face. It had a hole in it so that just the gash in my head showed through. First he gave me a shot to deaden it--right in my eyebrow. That hurt the most. After that, the stitches just felt sort of prickly. I got a big bandage to cover it and I got to go home.
When I got home everybody fussed over me, and I had to tell the story of my stitches to Tina and her mom, and to Mrs. Barnes. Then Susy came over. Her mom was with her. They both looked really sorry and Susy had a Popcicle in her hand. She held it out to me. It was banana, our favorite flavor.
"Oh," Susy said in a quiet voice, "Jenny, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you really. I was just mad. I wanted to throw that rock past you, just to scare you." She paused and bit her lip. Her eyes were brimming again with unshed tears.
I had never felt so ashamed. I wanted to tell her that it wasn't her fault. I wanted to tell her that I would never treat her so horribly again. I wanted to tell her that she was still my friend, that she would always be my friend, even if I found new friends. But I didn't say any of these things. I just said, "Thanks for the Popcicle. It's my favorite kind."
Susy smiled then, a warm quiet smile.
I took her hand. "Let's go eat this on the back steps," I said. "We can share it."
By Sherri S. Crowley
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