Short Story: The Girl From My Past

It is 11:27 p.m., local time. We have skied all day, it was great, I'll post about it later. My father stirred from his slumber long enough to gruffly remind me that I need to sleep. I told him that it would just be a few minutes, which it will be.

Another story idea has come into my head. This is the second time in two weeks that a story has occurred to me, fully formed, while I should be getting sleep. I like this trend, but it doesn't exactly promote restfulness on my part. So I'll get this done soon. Not to say I'll skimp on the writing...but it won't be very long, is all.

This is a style of writing that I've never tried to do before. I'm writing a fictional account of a true story from my own past. Here's the backstory...

I think this would be ten years ago. Possibly eleven. Myself, my sister, and my parents' good friends Fred and Linda Marsh and their son David went to Vermont, to a little resort called Smuggler's Notch. (Those of you who read my story about Fred know about my half-baked recollections of the place.) It had water slides, pools, a forest to tromp around in, and I got to socialize with a bunch of people who were my age, or thereabouts. So I thought it was grand fun.

While I was there, in the group I was in was this girl. For the life of me, I cannot remember her name. I can't remember almost anything about the whole encounter. Let's call her...Sarah, that's a nice name. I remember a few key details. Fragments of conversation. Activities. Feelings. I remember the feelings quite well. What I remember most, above all else, was...I think she was the first girl I ever loved.

It sounds ridiculous, even as I write it. I was eight or nine years old. We knew each other only for a handful of days. And yet...the memory stirs in me feelings that are unmistakable, now, that I look at them through the lens of time and experience. There can be no doubt. I loved her, even if I didn't know it at the time.

The following is a dramatization of the events that occurred. I don't remember nearly anything. This is how it happened, or how it should have happened. This is how I think it happened. This is what I felt.
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I was bored. Bored, bored, bored. Fred and Linda took me and Michelle and David up to this place, what was it called, Robber's Creek or something. Smuggler's Notch, that was it. It had water slides, and it was pretty fun, but we were promised that we could go to see Niagara Falls, and we didn't get to make it. I was bitter about that.

I never dealt well with lots of structure during my leisure time. I always liked to be able to spend my time with as much flexibility as possible. It's why I never took to summer camp or things like that, I wanted time to laze around and play my own games and just generally do my own thing. But part of the nature of this place was that I would shack up with a group and do activities with them, and it promised to be at least kind of interesting, so I went. Our first activity was going for a swim in the nearby pool.

I was idly kicking rocks, waiting for the rest of the people to show up, when I saw her. She was sitting by the side of the trail, looking as bored as I felt. I ambled over and sat down next to her. She looked up from whatever reverie she was in, and smiled politely.

"Hi," I said. "I'm Lucas."

"I'm Sarah," she said. "Nice to meet you."

"Where are you from?" I asked.

We talked, a bit. She told me that she was staying up here with her parents, that she was from New Hampshire, that it was her third time there. She knew all the fun things to do, on account of she had done mostly everything before.

"Don't go for the bird-watching," she warned. "It's just sitting around being bored, passing around a pair of binoculars. Even when you see a bird, it's like, big whoop, it's a bird."

"Thanks for telling me," I said.

She smiled again. "Are you good at swimming?"

"I know how to swim," I said, a little defensively.

"Yeah, but how good are you?" She cocked her head to the side and smirked a little. "I'm a really good swimmer. I can do a lap in my pool back home faster than any of my friends."

"Cool," I said.

"I'll show you when we get in the water," she said.

The rest of the kids had trickled in by then. The counselors were calling everyone over to get in the pool, the shallow end first. Some of the more enthusiastic kids had already jumped in and were scudding around near the medium part. Whistles were being blown.

Sarah stood up. "Let's go, they're going," she said. I stood up as well. She turned and started walking towards the pool.

"Oh, uh..." I said. She stopped and turned back, a questioning look. "What, uh, what was your name again?" I said lamely.

She giggled a little. "Sarah," she said. "You're Lucas, right?"

"Yeah," I said. She turned back and ran for the pool. I jogged over as well. She dived in - she wasn't kidding, she was outpacing the rest of the kids dramatically.

I jumped in and tried to catch up, but she was pulling away way too fast. I didn't have a chance.
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"Hi again," I said, putting my lunch tray on the table next to hers. She looked up, blankly at first, but recognition dawned on her face.

"Oh, hi, Lucas," she said. I swung my legs over the rough wooden bench and sat down.

She smiled again, but there was a spark of challenge in her eye. "Do you remember my name?" she said, a little mockingly.

"Yeah!" I said, slightly too loudly. "You're Sarah."

Her smile remained, but her expression softened. "Yeah, that's it," she said. "What did you get?"

"The hamburger," I said. I pulled it open, and made a face. "Eew, there's stuff on it."

"What?" she said.

"It's got, like, lettuce and ketchup and stuff," I said, pushing my tray away. "I hate that stuff."

"You don't like any of it?" she asked.

"No." I snatched my roll off the tray and gobbled it down. "My mom says I'm a picky eater."

Sarah looked at my tray. "I guess," she said. She glanced at her own. "You want my hot dog, instead?" she asked. "There's nothing on it. I was gonna put ketchup on it, but there's nothing on it now."

"Really?" I said, hopefully. My stomach was grumbling at the prospect of only a roll and a carton of milk to last the day.

"Yeah," she said. "We'll trade." She switched our trays and put the top bun back on the hamburger. She took a bite. "It's okay," she said.

"Thanks," I said gratefully. I picked up my hot dog, and was about to start eating, when I noticed: she hadn't eaten her roll yet. "You, uh, want this back?" I said, holding up the roll.

She looked over. "No, it's okay," she said. "I didn't really want it anyway."

"Thanks," I said. I took a bite and chewed thoughtfully.

"So what are you doing after lunch?" Sarah said.
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"All right," the counselor said. "For this activity, everyone will divide up into teams of two. Then you'll come up with as many names of animals as you can in thirty seconds, and write them down on these pieces of paper." Sheets of notebook paper were handed out to each of us, and stubby golf pencils were parceled out almost as an afterthought.

"The first team will be Shelby and Jake," the counselor said. "The second team-"

"Wait!" I cried. The counselor stopped and looked at me. "Can I be on Sarah's team?" I asked. "I just wanted to, y'know...be on her team..." I mumbled, trailing off.

The counselor looked puzzled for a second, then grinned. "Sure, why not," he said. "The second team is Sarah and, uh..."

"Lucas," I said.

"Sarah and Lucas," he finished. "The third team..."

I had already tuned him out. I skipped towards Sarah, who was looking surprised but pleased at this turn of events.

"You asked to be on my team?" she said questioningly.

"Yeah," I said. "You're my friend, and, uh, I wanted to do this with you."

"Great!" she beamed. "How many animals do you know?"

I was about to answer when the counselor's voice boomed out. "All right, teams are set, now...go!"

I immediately started rattling off animals. "Elephant, rhino, cat, dog, mouse, uh...aardvark...how do you spell aardvark?" My dull pencil scrawled along at double-time, marking down the names I had chosen.

"I don't know," Sarah said. "Uh...eagle, fish, cow, pig, unicorn..."

I snorted. "A unicorn isn't an animal!" I said.

"It is too an animal," she said defensively.

"Not a real animal," I said.

"Fine," she said with an irritated huff, crossing out unicorn on her list. "Zebras," she said after a moment's thought, jotting it down as well.

"And lions," I added. "Lions eat zebras."

We traded animal names, scribbling them down on our paper, until the counselor's voice rang out again, informing us that time was up and we should name our papers and hand them in. Sarah gave me hers to give to the counselor. As she passed me her paper, her hand brushed against mine. I had to turn away quickly so she wouldn't see my smile, or my blush.
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This one is true. As true as I can remember.

We were told to walk through some woods, and at the end of the woods, there would be a large pool with water slides and all that sort of thing. The problem was, the counselor "lost" the map, and we had to find our own way through the various paths in the woods. They really all led to the end, but it was just a question of how long it would take.

Our group apparently chose the longest route possible. I was fine for the beginning part, but it was a hot day and I was beginning to get tired and overheated. And when I got overheated, I got cranky.

"This stinks," I said. I slouched forward a few steps.

"Yeah, kinda," Sarah said, trudging beside me.

"I'm getting really angry!" I yelled. "I want to go in the pool!"

"Calm down," Sarah said quickly. "Calm down. Don't yell."

"I can't hold it back," I said. "I'm gonna blow."

"Just stay cool," she said. "I'm hot too, y'know. Just stay cool."

We walked on for a bit more. I complained some, just to keep in the mood.

"I'm getting angrier," I said. "This is gonna be it."

"Calm down," she said. "Keep it cool."

"I can't contain myself," I said. "Rage...increasing..."

"No more rage," she said, trying to sound authoritative, but giggling a little as well.

"I'm getting angrier!" I said again, louder, but I started laughing too.

"My feet hurt," she said, but she was laughing too hard to be taken seriously.

We walked along, playing our little game, pausing to laugh like the dickens, starting up again when the tail end of our group hurried us along. We eventually made it to the pool. It was very refreshing.

"No more rage," I said.

"Good," she said.
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"I like you," I said to her, while we were standing in line for dessert.

"What?" she said, turning slightly.

"I like you," I repeated. "You're neat."

"Thanks," she said. She blushed a little. "Most boys don't like girls like me," she said. "They only like other boys."

"Those boys are dumb," I said. "You're really cool."

"You think so?" Sarah asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I like you."

She blushed more, and turned away so I wouldn't see. But I did.
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"Here," I said, thrusting a foil-wrapped Hershey's bar at her.

"What's this?" Sarah asked. She looked at it, but made no move to take it.

"It's chocolate," I said. "I'm giving it to you."

"Oh, uh, thanks," she said, reaching out and taking it from my hand. She frowned slightly, the back was partially torn open. "Why's it open?"

I cast my eyes downward. "Oh. Uh...I was gonna eat it myself, but, uh, I thought maybe you would want it instead."

She smiled. "Thanks."

"I thought of you," I mumbled, looking at the ground.

She smiled.
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"It's my last day here," she said to me. We were standing outside the building I was staying in.

"I have two more days," I said.

"Well, uh, bye," she said quietly. "It was fun, talking to you and stuff."

"Yeah," I said. "I'm glad we met. You're cool. I like you."

I did not say "I love you." I did not embrace her and meet her lips to mine in a passionate kiss. I did not fall to my knees and proclaim my feelings for her. I did not even ask her her last name, or her phone number, or anything. I did not tell her that I had fallen in love with her.

Because I was eight years old, and I didn't know what love was yet.

She took my hand briefly. "Well...bye, Lucas," she said.

"Bye," I said. She walked away.

I watched her go.
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The story is mostly a fabrication. But the feelings were real. I know it. My poor memory notwithstanding, nothing can take that from me.

Anyway, on a lighter note, the Luke-Approved YouTube Link of the Day is http://youtube.com/watch?v=T6Ozfh9ou5k It's called "Gym Class." It starts off boring, but, well, just watch. It gets exciting fairly quickly.

REPLIES.

Anonymous: Which one are you? Daniel? One of the people up at Gainesville? Either way, grats on the first comment, I guess. Next time, sign your name.

Steve: I know, I know, but a man can dream, can't he? I just wish Geno or Mega Man had been in, either of them could have been adapted for Brawl in a flash. If you're still in town next Saturday and Sunday, I'll be back in town Friday night. Yes, Brawl does rule.

Mrs. PH: Well, this is astonishing. If you read this, mind telling me how you found my blog? Were you reading it beforehand and pleasantly surprised to see yourself mentioned? Or did you just search "megacon pyramid head" or similar and my blog popped up? What inspired your costume? And yes, Megacon was great this year.

Dad: Replying to this is somewhat pointless, since you're pretty much the only person I'm talking to for the next few days, but whatever. I'll have to watch this Max Headroom. Did you see the trailer for Get Smart? I'd like to see the eye-flashing pseudodragon familiar thing.

Jake: Yes, and yes. It wasn't you? I thought it was...might have been Nolan. Or maybe Matt disguised as Nolan. You remember that whole exchange. Yes, I remember your "save for half" line, and as you recall I gave you credit for it on a couple of occasions. Btw, Pocky rules. ;-)

Vic: You were understandably pissed, though I am glad that it didn't turn out to be my fault. Besides, the cut-price tattoo was funny. I can almost certainly get a ride to you on Sunday evening. What time?

Mom: Harley Quinn was a good costume, but I didn't see the Tusken Raider. I assume that any golden sword would be a magic golden sword, enchanted not to bend like Play-Doh on the first strike, or something. Dad told me about the interview, and about your contribution, which he was less than pleased with.

Until next time.