Kristiena was with her pony, Buttercup, a beautiful golden mare. She was riding her bareback through the meadows, holding onto her pretty black mane. She saw butterflies dancing, rabbits peeking out of their holes to watch the girl and her magnificent horse… “Kristiena! Earth to Kristiena! What is eighty-five divided by five?” Kristiena’s teacher, Mr. Howard, demanded. Kristiena blushed. “Um… nineteen?” she guessed. As the other kids laughed, she felt her face redden more. Mr. Howard ignored them. Looking straight at her, he said, “If you were paying attention, you would have known that Jackson correctly answered seventeen. Please stay after class.” Looking away, he asked the entire class, “Now, what is one hundred twenty-seven divided by eight? Don’t let the remainder trick you!” After school was dismissed, Kristiena slowly made her way up to Mr. Howard’s desk. He looked at her sternly. “Kristiena, you have been such a good student all year, and now, all of a sudden, I’ve caught you in la-la land five classes in a row. Is there anything going on?” Kristiena shook her head. “No, sir. I’m just… finding it harder to pay attention in class. It will stop soon, I promise.” “I hope it will. If I catch you again, I’m afraid I will have to call your parents, and nobody wants that.” “Yes, sir. You won’t have to, sir.” And with a nod of approval from Mr. Howard, Kristiena quickly walked out into the hallway to walk home. It was a gray day, and there was a bitter wind. Just for once, she wished that her parents didn’t have to work so late and could come pick her up from school, or at least pay bus fees. What was more beautiful than the clearing itself was what was in it Once she was home, Kristiena grabbed an orange and sat down to do her homework. Or at least, she thought she was going to do her homework. But her mind drifted back to the meadows and her dream ride with Buttercup. The truth was, ever since Kristiena had seen the pony in the barn and saw the sign that said, “For Sale: One Mare Named Buttercup,” she knew she had to have that dear pony. She had nagged her parents countless times about it, but each time their answer was the same: “We don’t have enough money to spare.” And Kristiena knew it was true. But she couldn’t stop hoping. So, naturally, with the mixture of hope and sadness, what else could she do but daydream? Kristiena had been daydreaming there for a while when her mom walked in. “Honey, I’m home! Is your homework done?” Kristiena jumped. “Huh? Oh. Um, not really…” Her mom’s face fell. “Oh, honey, I know you want that pony, but you’ve got to stop focusing so much on it. I heard from a kid in your class you had to stay after school because you were daydreaming— for the fifth time in a row!” Kristiena was embarrassed and, truth be told, rather upset. She loved her mom and wanted to keep her happy; for her mom to be upset because of her was one of the worst things that could happen to Kristiena. “Mom, I’m really trying harder… it will stop, and soon, it’s just that I really want her…” She trailed off, realizing she was only making her mom feel worse. “Kristiena, baby, I know you wish that you were in a rich family, and you could have that pony, but you were born to this family… and I’m trying so hard… I’m sorry…” And her voice broke. Then Kristiena saw her mom do something she had never known mothers to do. Kristiena’s mother was crying. “No, Mom, I didn’t mean it like that… I didn’t mean that I wanted to be rich… Mom, it’s different, I just wish that… Mom…” Kristiena tried in vain to make her mother feel better, but her attempts were unsuccessful. “Mom, I don’t want to be in a different family, you’re the best mom ever… you and Dad are the best family for sure,” Kristiena tried. “But you hardly ever see us,” said her mother, still crying and hugging herself. Feeling terrible as she watched her mother cry, Kristiena did the one thing that seemed right: She snuggled into her mother’s arms and cried with her. * * * The next morning, Kristiena woke up. She felt sore, stiff. The vague memories of the night replayed in her mind: Her mom had struggled over to the couch with her when she was almost cried out and Kristiena was almost asleep. Then, her dad came home and snuggled next to them. Kristiena was asleep and just barely woke up to see him come in, then fell asleep to the background murmur of her parents’ voices. After a while, Dad had carried Kristiena upstairs to bed and they kissed her goodnight. It was only after the replay that Kristiena looked at her clock. It was ten o’clock! She was late to school for sure. Rushing to get dressed, she suddenly came to a conclusion: Her parents must have let her sleep in! Just the same, Kristiena did her morning routine. When she was done, she went downstairs. Her parents were usually long gone by now, so when she smelled coffee brewing, Kristiena was surprised. “Mom? Dad?” she called out as she walked into the kitchen. Her mom stood by the coffee maker as she waited for it to brew, and she smiled at Kristiena when she walked into the kitchen. “Hey, baby girl,” her mom said, rather wearily. “Come take a walk in the backyard with me. I want to talk with you.” Kristiena followed her mom out the back door into their rather large backyard. She and her mother just walked for a few minutes before her mother spoke. “Kristiena,” she began, “I want you to know that, although we’re away a lot, and you don’t usually see us very
May/June 2017
Roller Coaster
Sweet like ice cream in the summer. There for two minutes then gone. But always with me. They possess me and my heart but always love me. They stand by me wherever I go. If I choose to go to the moon they will be there listening to the silence with me. Waiting outside, waiting for me to come out. I rush down the stairs like a puppy when it’s time for a walk. We see each other and smile, thinking what could be better than this? Now walking I feel like a leaf drifting in the wind. Laughing so hard I can’t even breathe. Then I stop, keep a straight face for five seconds, then laugh again. On a roller coaster that’s me and my life. With loops and twists. Roller coaster… an adventure. Fun. Scary. I come home and hear silence. I see the light from the lamp in my room. I turn it off and fall in bed. I stare at a wall thinking and listening to the silence. Taking in the darkness of the room. Brooklyn Jeffcoat, 12Seattle, Washington
Maple and Marmalade
A loud knock sounded on Violet’s dressing-room door. “Places for Act One!” Violet leapt up from her dressing-table stool, her breath quickening. A little shiver of nervous excitement ran down her spine as she peered into the mirror one last time, checking anxiously to see that her microphone was in place. She didn’t look quite like herself; the reflection staring back at her from inside the frame of lights was not the image of a thirteen-year-old girl but that of a young Civil-War-era woman. What with the stage makeup, full hoop skirt, and her normally loose hair gathered into a stately bun, she scarcely recognized herself. Violet slipped her hand into the hidden pocket in her costume and groped about, closing her fingers around a pebble- like object. It was a small piece of wood, its surface was smooth and soft; the bark had been whittled away. She drew it out of her pocket and gazed at it wistfully, slipping into a reverie. She could remember vividly the day she had received it from her best friend, Thomas. It was an October afternoon; they were sitting on a hill beneath a maple tree, and the ground was carpeted with crimson leaves. It was a favorite spot of theirs, and that day they had both rushed to meet each other there, almost bursting with bottled-up excitement. “I have a secret to tell you!” Violet had gasped, grasping his hand. “I have one, too. An important one. But you tell first,” he insisted. She couldn’t imagine life without him As they settled down on the ground, Thomas pulled his Swiss Army knife out of his pocket, picked up a stick that lay nearby, and began to whittle. Violet smiled as she watched him absentmindedly work away; it was a hobby of his. He was always carving at something during their conversations. The end result was never more than a naked, pointed twig, but Violet found the habit endearing. “Tell away,” he said, looking at her expectantly. Violet leaned forward on her elbows and said in hushed excitement, “You know how I auditioned for the musical Little Women? The cast list came out today. I got my first lead role ever! I’m playing Marmee!” Thomas snickered. “Who on earth is Marmalade?” Violet slapped his knee reproachfully. “Not Marmalade! Marmee! How can you not know who she is? She is the most inspiring character in the history of literature!” Thomas raised his eyebrows, smiling his signature lopsided grin. “She’s the matriarch of the March family in Little Women,” Violet continued to gush enthusiastically, her eyes locked on Thomas’s hands as they continued to shave off slender ribbons of bark, revealing the smooth, creamy wood inside. “When her husband goes away to fight in the Civil War, she’s left to take care of the family herself. She’s so encouraging to me; she’s so strong and good and wise. She is always doing little things for others and guiding those around her. I want to be like her. And I get to play her!” Violet clasped her hands and lapsed into blissful silence. Thomas chuckled at her enthrallment, shaping the twig into a point, like a pencil. “Well then, good for you! I always knew you could do it!” Violet smiled, feeling warm and content inside. “What about you?” she asked Thomas. “You said you had news for me, too.” Thomas cleared his throat a trifle nervously. “Uh, I’m moving.” Violet stopped. “What?” Thomas fixated his gaze on his whittling, somewhat flustered, as he continued to carve away at the stick, which was rapidly decreasing in size. “It’s just been finalized. We’re moving to Oakbridge, two hours away. We leave in about a month.” Violet’s excitement faded away immediately. She didn’t say anything right away, but stared off into the distance, her chin cupped in her hands. She couldn’t imagine life without him. They had been best friends since kindergarten, and he had become like a brother to her. She had so many joyful memories of them together; she remembered him teaching her how to pretend to be shot by Billy the Kid and fall backward off of her tricycle when she was eight. She remembered giving him a lesson on baking snickerdoodles that included Thomas swiping cookies, just out of the oven, off the sheet when she wasn’t looking, and then complaining about his burnt fingers. She remembered how he had been in the audience for every musical she had been in, despite all of her small, unimportant roles, and how she would rush eagerly to the lobby afterwards, where she knew he would be waiting with endless praise and a somewhat painful slap on the shoulder. Violet breathed a shallow, shaky sigh. She had finally landed a lead role, something she had been working for and dreaming about for years, and he wouldn’t be there to see her. Thomas was quiet, too, as he used slow, deliberate strokes towards his thumb to round the edges of the piece of maple. It was hardly more than a pebble by now; the shavings lay in a heap on the grass. Thomas finished, slipping his knife away into his pocket, and examined his work keenly. It was like a wooden jelly bean, with a little dent in the middle. The surface was smooth and somewhat shiny. Thomas rubbed his thumb over it, smiled slightly as if satisfied, and turned it over in his hand, contemplating what to do with it. At a loss for words, he turned to Violet and held it out in his palm. “Want it?” Violet turned it over in her hand, smiling at it in a melancholy way. It was just a small token of their friendship, but it meant a lot to her. She slid it into her pocket, resolving to carry it with her wherever she went when Thomas had gone, like a talisman. * * * Now, as Violet hurried from her dressing room on opening night to take
