I Am

The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself. ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Separate But Equal

Every now and then Flo and Dorothy tried to keep The Girls apart. (A futile exercise often tried by the mothers of daughters with unsavory boyfriends, or by the moms of spirited teenagers who poke into more trouble together than apart.) And sometimes The Girls, with adolescent jealousies and tender feelings, kept themselves apart. Never worked long, of course.

A furtive peek from behind lacy summer curtains, through the bedroom window, across the green expanse of joint lawn and past the lacy curtains on the other side confirmed suspicions. It was time.

Budding, bashful figures tucked into optimistic two-piece bathing suits, Junie’s a soft creamy yellow to match her silken hair, and Connie’s a bright green to match her twinkling eyes. Coltish legs and arms slicked in baby oil and iodine. Hair pulled into high, sleek pony tails to avoid the dreaded tan line. High noon Southern sun blazed overhead. It was time.

Without looking across their yards toward each other, The Girls strutted into the heat and across their lawns like novice models prancing down a cat walk. As if synchronized by Busby Berkeley, each delicately balanced an icy glass of sweet tea on the grass. Each fluffed brightly-striped over-sized beach towels over hot, webbed aluminum lounge chairs. Each tuned miniature transistors to AM bubblegum radio stations. Each eased long legs and bodies into low chaises. Divided by more than the white pickets and climbing roses, each pointedly ignored the other.

……….

“You better turn over. You’re gonna burn.”

“I’m not talking to you.”

“Then don’t talk.”

……….

Sweat trickled past girlish down to puddle into smalls of backs.

……….

“You made me eat worms.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

……….

Junie’s skin glowed golden. Connie’s pinked.

……….

“Wasn’t worms. Just cold spaghetti.”

“I’m not talking to you.”

“Then don’t talk.”

……….

Bees buzzed and bumbled against the nodding roses. Ice clinked and disappeared.

………

“We were just initiating you.”

“Why did I have to be initiated into a club you made with her?”

……….

Sweat, or something like it, blinked down a childish cheek and was impatiently brushed away.

……….

“You know I love you best.”

“I know. Roll over. You’re gonna burn.”

……….