“…Eyeballs…” Book II: 14. Lost In Thought
Hey! You Got Eyeballs In There?
By Kate Chamberlin
As Grace grows up, some of her stories are happy, some trying, some enlightening, and a few themes are sad, but, they’re all the warp and woof of what goes into the tapestry of life we call Family. The daily living skills and techniques demonstrated by the fictional characters in these stories are valid, tried and true.
Book II: The Teenagers
#10. Bad News
#11. Grace’s Day One
#12 Knight With Shining Flatware
#13. The Locker Fiasco
#14. Lost In Thought
The bus driver was as good as his word. He dropped her off at the end of her street. Although the street was paved, it ended in a cul-de-sac that did not have side-walks or curbs. Grace and Crackers had walked it many times during the summer just for exercise and something to do. She was not worried about getting home and let her mind wander, thinking over some of the things that happened that day.
She felt Crackers’ energy as she pulled hard to get up to the top of the hill. Why was it, Grace wondered, that the dog found all this work so much fun. Grace felt drained. Her thoughts turned to the smooth, low baritone who had been so helpful at lunch time. Suddenly, Grace realized they were starting down the other side of the hill. Crackers had gone past their home and Grace Wasn’t sure how far they’d gone. Bile rose in her throat from fear and panic.
“Crackers, Go Home!” Grace loudly said in fright, hoping the dog would get the message and take them to the unique wooden mailbox they used as a landmark.
Crackers turned to the right, into the middle of the street. Grace could feel the crown of the road. Crackers stopped and then turned to the left. She was confused as to what she was to do.
“Crackers, go home.” Grace repeated again, but, this time in a voice that would not scare the dog. Crackers took several steps forward down the hill but then turned to go back up the hill. After several yards, she stopped. Grace felt the gravel of the shoulder under her feet and reached out with her hand. She felt the unique but familiar mail-box. It was especially made to hold the Library of Congress Braille books and Records that used to come each week.
“Good girl. Crackers, go home,” Grace said calmly with relief flooding through her body. She had been so deep in thought, not paying attention to her surroundings, that she had not told Crackers to go home so she didn’t. The perfect ending to my day, she mused in discussed.
Dinner was quiet that night. Her Dad was on a business trip and her brother was at a Volley ball game. That left her mother and her to have dinner together. Grace really didn’t want to talk about her day. After dinner, her Mother respected her privacy and went off to cut out construction paper pumpkins for her Nursery School children. Grace often helped her with projects, but, she really didn’t want to trace 27 little pumpkins tonight.
Later that evening, when Grace was in her favorite fleecy sleepshirt, reading a braille book, her Mother revived an old tradition that Grace had almost forgotten about. She came into Grace’s room in her flannel robe and PJ’s carrying a tray with two cups, two cookies, and a small chubby pot of fragrant hot herb tea.
“Hi, could we have tea time?” Her Mother asked. A flood of mushy love gushed over Grace. Before she had gone to the residential school, they always used to ask that of each other whenever one had something to talk about. Sometimes they had tea time just to be together, just us girls, no boys allowed.
During tea time that night, Grace opened up and talked about her day as her Mother listened sympathetically. As Grace talked she felt better and knew that the worst was over. At least she hoped the worst was over. Life had a way of rolling lemons tart as sour balls her way and she wasn’t so sure she could make any more sweet lemonade.
Copyright (C) 1996, 2016, 2017 by Kate Chamberlin
kathryngc1@verizon.net