Now that my mother had given me the "big girl" status, changes soon occurred. Early one morning she sat me down and explained that I would now have "chores" to do. I was totally elated--until she explained to me what the word "chores" actually meant. I was to make my bed and dry the dinner dishes daily. When I was told, I would shake the rugs and take the trash to the alley. It didn't take long to realize she meant business. If the bed wasn't made in the morning, it would be waiting for me after school. Whine! Whine! Whine! Yes I did...and vehemently...to no avail. I'd rather go to school than do chores!
As for school, it was just "ok" now--better than chores! The friends I had made at The Good News Club still wouldn't play with me at recess, which I couldn't understand; but at least the staring and teasing had stopped for the most part.
One morning as I lumbered into the classroom, I saw a "new" girl. Wow! Even I had to stare...as she sat in the coolest wooden, fanciest wheelchair that I had ever seen. I wanted one of those! Looking even closer, I saw that she had casts on both her legs, just like the picture I had seen of myself. "She must be like me," I thought. "I bet I could be her friend. Maybe she'd let me ride in that wheelchair." I was so excited to meet Jacque. She will become my "true friend" if I had any say in the matter.
Because of the weather, I didn't have to go outside for recess. It was then that we chatted and laughed and soon became friends. We both knew that we were so much the same and would encounter similar obstacles. Within the next several months, Jacque exchanged those casts of hers for a set of braces just like mine. I didn't feel alone any longer. Life was good!
Toward the end of our first year of school, Jacque asked me to spend the night at her house. I wasn't exactly sure how my mom would react because I had never spent a night away from home. But she telephoned Jacque's mom and gave me the YES I was wanting to hear so badly. Once my bag was packed, we drove to my "best friend's" house where I was planning to have the time of my life.
Following dinner that evening, Jacque headed for the bedroom to retrieve her favorite "dollies" while I trailed behind her mother to the kitchen. I quietly asked her, "Where is your dish towel?" (My mom had given me strict orders to help with the dishes.) "Honey, you don't have to do work here. Jacque doesn't do any and I would never ask you to help me. You go play now." This first night away from home was going to be better than I thought!
For years to come, our weekend sleepovers became a ritual. I did have one question though. Why was it that Jacque ALWAYS wanted to come to my house rather than have me over to hers. Her toys, records, clothes were so much better than mine. She jumped at the chance to chat and help my mom. I just didn't GET IT!
She had definitely become my "true friend" or so I thought. Unfortunately, it took a boyfriend and telephone calls to realize that I had been "used" all these years. I was shattered.
To be continued...
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