Sunday, November 27, 2011

Mirror Image, Chapter 5

Chapter     1     2     3     4     5    6    7    8    9    10    11    12    Epilogue


The sun warmed my shoulders as I leaned against the fence, watching the boys from the neighborhood playing baseball at the park. I wanted nothing more badly than to join in, but I knew if I did, I'd be in trouble. Even though Grace was the one with asthma, Mama kept us both under tight watch. One grass stain on my dress, and she'd know I was "overdoing it" again. I'd be lectured on the danger of "taxing" myself, and sent to my room.

Appealing to my father was no help. He was so old fashioned... told me not to be a tomboy, and that I'd never "catch" a husband playing baseball.

A sigh escaped me as I realized that even if I could get away with a grass stain, the guys wouldn't want to play with me anyway. Who wants a girl in a dress on his team? Sure, I could hit, and I could catch, and I could even run pretty well in this getup, but slide into home? Forget it.
And that's why Mama put me in dresses all the time. She knew if I wore pants, I'd play like a boy.

Tommy saw me watching, called time-out, and ran to the fence. "You wanna play, Sarah? Get changed. Our side don't have no shortstop."

I looked back toward the house, wondering if I could get away with it. My gardening clothes might be a safe bet. Mama wouldn't notice another grass stain on those jeans. They were covered with them. I could get a few innings in while she was work, then go start weeding the garden. Of course the jeans would get dirty weeding the garden. She'd be none the wiser.

Even as the thought occurred to me, I saw Grace coming across the yard, carrying something in her arms. After a moment, I recognized the outfit. Once again, my sister and I had shared a thought. I told Tommy, "I'll be right back." I ran to Grace and gave her a huge hug. She handed me the clothes. I dragged the pants on under the skirt, then dragged the shirt on over the top. Under the shirt, I unzipped the dress. I pulled the sleeves off, then put my arms through just the sleeves of the shirt, and pulled the dress down and stepped out of it.

Grace said, "I'll be back. I wanna watch you play!" Then she took the dress and headed back to the house, her pretty blond braids trailing out behind her in the breeze. I turned toward the field, took a running leap, and hurdled the fence like an expert. Jason tossed me a glove, and I ran to my spot with a huge grin.

I didn't recognize the boy at the plate. Something about him seemed kind of off. I couldn't put a finger on it, except that somehow, he just didn't belong there. He was dressed like everyone else, talked like everyone else, and had just as much dirt on him as everyone else. Something about him just rubbed me the wrong way. He didn't make it better when he piped up with, "Awe, you gonna let a girl play? I don't wanna play with no girl. She's gonna slow down the whole game!"

I shouted back, "What'sa matter, kid? Afraid of getting tagged by a girrrrrrrrl? I betcha can't hit it this far, anyway!" As Tommy approached the mound and wound up, I continued the taunt, punching the palm of my glove with my other hand as I spoke. "Ay, batter, batter! What'cha lookin' at me for, I ain't gonna throw the ball! Better keep your eye on it. It's comin' in fast!"

Suddenly, the sunlight was blinding, and I was on my back. The ground underneath me was soft, and there was something on my chest.

No, it wasn't the ground. It was my mattress, in my bed, in my room. My blanket was pulled up to my chin. Disoriented by the change, I just lay there, pondering the vividness of the dream. It had totally felt like I was awake. In fact, I was feeling really bad about abandoning the guys, even though I knew they were just "characters" from the dream. I wondered what triggered it, but as I lay there, another image came to me, the memory of prowler from last night. Grace, from the dream... Grace was the girl in the mirror. "Mama" was the lady.

I'd dreamed about being part of their family.


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Mom made some phone calls during breakfast. Later, a locksmith drove up in a truck that looked like it used to be an armored car. He tinkered with the three outside doors of the house, took the handles off, and added deadbolts. Then, he changed the locks on the garage. We were given a different key for each lock. Mom wasn't taking any chances.

After he was gone, we went to get keys made at the hardware store. With the locks changed, and each of us given a key, Mom settled a bit, feeling that it was now much harder for someone to get into the house unwelcome.

Days went by after that without incident. The fear began to fade. It began to become easy to think of the break-in as an isolated incident, not something to fear might happen again.
It wasn't the same for Mom. Though she wasn't exactly jumpy or anything, she wouldn't leave us home alone for five minutes any more. It was like she was afraid that if she wasn't carefully watching us for even just a minute, that guy would show up and snatch us away forever.

I saw my hard-won teenage freedom going straight down the tubes. I was old enough to walk to the grocery by myself. I was old enough to go to the downtown theater with a group of friends after dark. I was old enough to babysit for three or four hours, even kids only a few years younger than me. I could stay home by myself for half an hour in the middle of a summer day.

When I brought it up, Mom hedged, but Dad was a little more open-minded. As we talked about it, he began throwing in safety-related "what if" questions.

"Would you open the door to a stranger?"
"No."

"What if he said he was there to deliver something?"
"Leave it on the porch."

"What if he needed a signature?"
"Mom or Dad will pick it up at the depot."

"What if he said he was a plain-clothes police officer?"
"Really? A minute ago, you said you were a delivery guy."
I play-acted picking up the phone and speed-dialing the police.

Mom laughed. Dad had meant to change the scenario, not the guy's story, but the effect was the same. "Ok, I get it. You're savvy. You understand that I'm worried anyway, right?"

I did, but having to go on every little errand Mom ran during the day was driving me nuts.

"Mom, I can handle it. I'm thirteen now. It'll be ok. Besides, I don't think he's coming back. He looked like some kind of a homeless guy to me. He's probably halfway out of the state by now. Dad scared the crap out of him. Did you see his face?"

Dad agreed. "He was terrified. You'd have thought I was the boogie-man instead of just an angry Dad. And he wasn't familiar... I don't think I've ever seen him around town before."

The discussion ended with the conclusion that for short trips, it would be ok if I stayed home alone, or if Seth and I stayed in the house, as long as it was daylight. If Mom was going on a longer errand, though, we had to go with her, not so much for our safety, but for Mom's sanity. There was no way she could leave us alone for the hour or two it took her to do the monthly "big" grocery trip.

It wasn't the freedom I'd hoped for, but it was an acceptable compromise. I figured that by the time summer was over, Mom would change her mind.

Chapter     1     2     3     4     5    6    7    8    9    10    11    12    Epilogue

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