3) Crazy Horse Cabin
My eyes opened slowly on that fateful day. The sound of the ocean carried in through the open window, the crashing of the waves dulled by distance to a low melodious sound. Although it was not this music that had awakened me. It was Mom. I slept through everything back then.
A breakfast of hash browns awaited me down stairs. Always hash browns, lovely, golden-brown hash browns. I heard them sizzling in the oven, filling the small kitchen with my favorite smell, as the light poured in through the wide windows. The early morning light caught on the little trinkets sitting on the windowsill, like sunlight catching on the satin leaves of the trees above.
Only Mom knew where we were going, so I followed her to the car, dressed in overalls, my hair unruly. The door slammed after us, alarming the screeching gulls. Silly gulls. They were afraid of everything, unless of course you happened to have crackers. They are like humans that way. With a bribe you can keep them close enough to touch. I’ve seem them gobbling up crackers. They swallow them in one bite, without a worry about the size. You can see the outline of the cracker, even after it has disappeared beneath the beak.
Minutes passed, and the car plunged down a dirt road, into the shadows of majestic redwood trees. Cool, damp air surrounded everything here, as if night had caught up with us faster than it was meant to.
The schoolhouse was nestled among these giant trees, across a tall bridge. A small sign in front displayed its name, Crazy Horse Cabin. My new school was old, and constructed of dark wood, its brick chimney towering above me. And yet, it paled in comparison to the enormous tree trunks surrounding it on every side. My new school seemed so out of place, but as soon as I stepped inside I knew it was my place.
The buzzing chatter of children swept me up as I passed through the threshold. Each conversation indistinct, but still familiar. Round, soft faces turning excitedly to each other. I released my mother’s hand to mingle amongst the smiles. I knelt in front of the empty fireplace, gazing into it. It was a cave, dark and deep. Soot lined the inside; it had blazed bright with fire many times.
A boy came up and sat next to me. His eyes were bluer than icy topaz, and his hair was more yellow than fields of parched grasses. It would only be days until we would be eating hash browns together, listening to the sizzles, and giggling next to the kitchen window, the ocean still churning in the distance.
A breakfast of hash browns awaited me down stairs. Always hash browns, lovely, golden-brown hash browns. I heard them sizzling in the oven, filling the small kitchen with my favorite smell, as the light poured in through the wide windows. The early morning light caught on the little trinkets sitting on the windowsill, like sunlight catching on the satin leaves of the trees above.
Only Mom knew where we were going, so I followed her to the car, dressed in overalls, my hair unruly. The door slammed after us, alarming the screeching gulls. Silly gulls. They were afraid of everything, unless of course you happened to have crackers. They are like humans that way. With a bribe you can keep them close enough to touch. I’ve seem them gobbling up crackers. They swallow them in one bite, without a worry about the size. You can see the outline of the cracker, even after it has disappeared beneath the beak.
Minutes passed, and the car plunged down a dirt road, into the shadows of majestic redwood trees. Cool, damp air surrounded everything here, as if night had caught up with us faster than it was meant to.
The schoolhouse was nestled among these giant trees, across a tall bridge. A small sign in front displayed its name, Crazy Horse Cabin. My new school was old, and constructed of dark wood, its brick chimney towering above me. And yet, it paled in comparison to the enormous tree trunks surrounding it on every side. My new school seemed so out of place, but as soon as I stepped inside I knew it was my place.
The buzzing chatter of children swept me up as I passed through the threshold. Each conversation indistinct, but still familiar. Round, soft faces turning excitedly to each other. I released my mother’s hand to mingle amongst the smiles. I knelt in front of the empty fireplace, gazing into it. It was a cave, dark and deep. Soot lined the inside; it had blazed bright with fire many times.
A boy came up and sat next to me. His eyes were bluer than icy topaz, and his hair was more yellow than fields of parched grasses. It would only be days until we would be eating hash browns together, listening to the sizzles, and giggling next to the kitchen window, the ocean still churning in the distance.
posted by Integrity at 11:54 AM
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