Of Wolves and Wings

Chapter Four-Then

At the end of that first summer, we went back to our home we occupied during the school year, leaving you behind and me brokenhearted. But, just like that first day we met, you promised me we would see each other soon. I believed you. I wasn't sure why I believed you. I had plenty of examples that others couldn't be trusted in my home life; but, there was just something that spoke to me from within you, even then.

Kids don't really have any concept of time, though, and that school year felt like it lasted forever. With everything going on both at school and at home, I am ashamed to say that I almost forgot about you. I think it was really my childish form of self-preservation, keeping me from being stuck on the missing and putting my focus back on the living and surviving. Still, there was always that niggling in the back of my mind that something, someone, was coming the closer we got to the end of the school year. Perhaps it helped more with the living and surviving than I knew.

And then, there you were again. Same park, same sand pit, same crystal clear blue eyes full of innocence and hope. It was like all that time of forgetting you had been forgotten, pun intended. I was seven years old then, and princesses were becoming a theme of the past to me. I was more occupied with besting my brothers at whatever I could. Everything was a competition, from seeing who could brush their teeth the fastest all the way to who could eat the most spoonfuls of peanut butter without getting sick. That was the only way to get the attention of our dad, prove we were the best at something. Though, just as often, we spent our time trying to keep his attention off of us.

That summer, our competition to be the best at everything included staging my own fort. I was still too little to lift the big rocks, but you came as often as you could and helped me. You were so strong, even then. When the fort was finished, I asked my brothers if I could play in their war. They called me names again and told me I couldn't fight because I was a girl and I didn't have a weapon. I had learned to hide my emotions by then, though, and so there were no tears. There was just a fierce determination to see them fail. Not much has changed, except maybe hoping they fail from a distance. And, well, this time their failure means my life, my wolf, is safe.

Cue my dragon slayer with really movie worthy entrance music. You showed up wielding a pair of Nerf guns. I thrilled with delight as my brothers looked frightened by me for the first time in my life. Okay, really, they were probably just frightened of you. But I had a vivid imagination and in my mind they were quaking in their imaginary boots. All they had were their slingshots and sticks. Momma wouldn't let them use rocks in their slingshots if they were aiming at people. It was a good rule. Rocks hurt worse than sticks.

Before long, most of the neighborhood kids at the park had joined in our battle. This, of course, ensued in an all-out ruckus which finally pulled my mother from the sidelines where she had been visiting with my aunt. They rushed over, my mother grabbing me and my aunt grabbing my brothers. Somewhere in the mix, a woman, the one I later learned was your nanny, had also run over and snatched you up as well. You loved her like a mother, though.

"Aw man," Adam whined. "We were just getting into the thick of the battle. Why'd you have to come and interrupt us!"

"Yeah, Mom and Aunt Hilary. Why? We were having fun with that boy Andi has a crush on." By the taunting tone of Alex's voice I knew he was either making fun of me or trying to get me in trouble. Maybe both. I had no idea what a crush was, but it didn't sound good. I knew it couldn't be good when Momma's eyes zeroed in on me with that "Now you've really done it" stare that all mothers, or mother figures in your case, have perfected. Don't pretend you don't know what that looks like.

"Because that boy belongs to the cold, rich folk and we can't afford it if you break his arm or the shiny silver spoon in his mouth," Aunt Hilary scolded.

I was glad that we hadn't broken your arm because that would really hurt! But, I didn't see any spoon in your mouth. I thought about how weird that would be if you went around with a spoon in your mouth. Did people really do that?

"Momma, what's rich mean?" I asked innocently as she lead us away. Momma didn't send us to preschool or anything. Any early schooling we had was from the TV, our frequent babysitter while our dad did his business deals from the phone in the kitchen and our mom waited on him. I had heard him mention the word often in connection to how his business schemes were going to make us rich. I knew better than to ask him what it meant, though. Children were to be seen and not heard in our house. I took this as my chance to finally figure out what it meant. Momma was more open to my endless stream of questions when our dad wasn't there. At least, her eventual frustration with me only involved words and not her fists.

Momma took my shoulders and turned me back around to face you as your nanny was carting you off toward a car waiting by the entrance to the park. You were looking sorrowfully back at me, waving before she guided you inside the car. I waved back, but you didn't see me. Momma pointed toward your retreating car. "That's what cold and rich looks like and don't you forget it. You hear me Andi? You stay far, far away from that boy. Our folk and his don't mix."

I left the park that day more confused than I had been before Momma's explanation. And, why did Aunt Hilary say you were cold? I hadn't ever touched you to see if you felt cold, but you didn't act like you were cold. I had looked up the word in my dictionary at home, thinking maybe it meant something I didn't know. The dictionary said it could also mean distant or unkind. I didn't think that could be it, either. You were neither of those things. In reality, it did mean something I didn't know, but that was also something I wasn't going to find in an ordinary dictionary. At least, not in the c's.

Momma also made rich sound like a bad thing, but the dictionary didn't make it look that way. And, if it was a bad thing, then why did Daddy want us to be it too? I resolved that I didn't care. If rich was a bad thing, then you couldn't be it. You were too nice. All I knew was that I couldn't wait to come back to the park so I could see you again.

And so it continued, summer after summer. My mother tried half-heartedly to keep us apart, but she became fond of the distraction you were for me as that allowed her to gossip more with Aunt Hilary and not really have to watch me. Now, I wonder if she had another reason behind letting us play together. It's not something I'm at liberty to ask her. Not if I want her to live.

It didn't matter, though. Not then. We played, we dared my brothers to do reckless stunts, laughed when they got in trouble for it, and we spent as much time together as we could. You were my escape from a world I was slowly learning was as cruel as cruel could be. Turns out I was the same escape for you, cruel just looked a lot different when you added money to the mix. We had so much fun together, until the year it ended anyway.