-Laurie's Memory-
?????????????The room is bright with construction paper smiley faces and watercolor houses, and the walls are pristine white. The carpet is blue and feels thin under my hands, which claw into everything when I’m on the go. There are lots of other kids running around- babies, toddlers, gawky-mouthed preschoolers with frazzled hair and electric eyes. It’s my first time at nursery school, but I’m not scared. Those kids are just like me, and if they’re not like me, then they’re like my sister Carrie. My mom is standing in the door, holding my hand, because I’m straining to get into the action of that room. Carrie is off and wandering across the room already, but Mom doesn’t make her come back. That’s because Carrie is five and is a nursery-pro. She goes to kindergarten most days, but today the kindergarten class is cancelled so Carrie is coming to my first day of school with me.
“She moves very fast, so you’ll have to watch her or she’ll be in that paint in no time.” Mom says to a tall lady. All I can see of the lady is her feet, which are long and stuffed into pointy black shoes. Doesn’t that point hurt her foot? I reach forward to feel the shoe with my fingers, which are short and round, perfect for fitting in my mouth.
“There she goes exploring again. She always has to hit everything.” Long fingers are closing in under my arms, and suddenly I’m floating upwards. That’s okay, because I’m used to be yanked off the ground. And that means a hug is in store. I’m laughing and smiling, and the lady with the points on her feet is laughing too.
“Well, we’ll be sure to watch her very carefully.”
I’m back on the ground again, so Mom can talk to the lady with the points on her feet. But that’s boring to listen to, so I’m up and making my way across the room. When I get out there in the middle of that carpet, I’m surrounded by excitement. Toys! Lights! Babble! Kids are flying around with miniature red fire trucks and pink dollies and coloring books, and I want to get my hands on all of it. But the treasure of the whole room is sitting alone just in front of me- a giant plastic bin of tiny toy teddy bears. Some are blue, and some are red, and others are green and yellow, but they’re all so little and cute, and all I want to do is put them in my mouth and chew. My hands plunge into the bin and those bears are practically jumping at the opportunity to be gnawed on.
But suddenly my hands are empty and I’m sitting down, no bears or anything, not in my hands or in my mouth or even on the floor. I can hardly understand how it happened when a boy with black hair and eyes like a snowman steps in front of me.
“My bears.” He says and his voice is vicious, like my dog when I get too close to his bowl at dinnertime. The dog boy turns and picks up the bin, and he’s walking away with my bears, and I didn’t even get to put one in my mouth. My lips are numb and I know they’re about to curl apart like they always do before I scream, but then they don’t have to. The dog boy stumbled and falls, and those little bears are bouncing away from him. And there’s Carrie, her yellow curls bouncing like Tigger’s tail, and her eyes are squinting at the dog boy like any minute a laser is going to zip out and laser him to death. Her hands are clenched so tight that they’re white, and I think maybe that’s her bone pulling through it’s so white, but Carrie is white all over and looks like she would faint if her face wasn’t so angry.
“That’s my sister!” she screams, and the lady with the points on her feet is over in a second, standing over the dog boy and saying “Carrie, this isn’t like you!”
Carrie isn’t even looking at her, she’s staring at the dog boy and I can tell he’s afraid of her, and not just because she’s older. He rolls towards the pointed shoes and whines, and Carrie walks past him towards me. And she’s taking my squishy hands in her bony fingers, and I standing and I forgot that I was going to cry.
“Here Laurie.” Carrie hands me a bunch of teddy bears and they don’t mean as much to me anymore.
A hand grabs Carrie’s shoulder and drags her away, to a chair in the corner, and Carrie has to sit there and be quiet for a long time. I’m still standing with the bears but now I’m staring at my big sister, who punished the dog boy for stealing the bears from me. I’m barely two years old, but I wish I was five so that I’d be as old as Carrie and we could be best friends, instead of on different sides of the room. Suddenly I’m screaming and throwing the bears on the floor, and the lady with the points on her feet is asking me what’s wrong, and trying to pick me up. But I kick and my finger nails are short but sharp, and I can’t tell them that all I want is my sister because I’m screaming so hard.
And Carrie is out of the chair, and she hugs me and I stop kicking and clawing, and if the pointed shoes comes too close, we’ll both start screaming again. My sister is hugging me and I wish my arms were long enough to hug back, but I’m happy anyway because Carrie is hugging for both of us.
